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Belief and disbelief

The last year and a half that Matt and I lived in Chicago, we had the privilege of being interns in our church's ministry training program, Chicago Plan. One year we talked a lot about what it means to be "missional." At the end of the year, each intern wrote and presented a paper in response to all of our discussions. When I wrote my paper, I was again working through the reality of God as a Being. So, while it is written in the context of Chicago, Holy Trinity Church, and my job at Jimmy John's, may it help you to consider whether you've had similar experiences in your own context.

                The Bible is not God. The Gospel is not God. But there is a Creator who is Ruler over all, who defines reality and truth. He is just. He is Love. There is a Savior who frees the enslaved and brings hope to those in despair and loves so deeply that I often can’t understand it enough to be emotionally affected by it. There is a Comforter who brings peace to troubled hearts, sheds light on deceit, and brings reminders to the forefront of the mind when they’re needed. This is the God we live for.
                When I say, “The Bible is not God,” I mean to emphasize that our lives are not just about communicating ideas and concepts. When I say, “The Gospel is not God,” I mean to emphasize that we aren’t meant to just try to talk people into believing a few fundamental statements. This isn’t just about a belief system. This is about making God known. He is revealed in the Bible—especially in the Gospel. If our mission were merely to repeat what the Bible says, there wouldn’t be so much debate over how to accomplish it.
                What is our mission? To glorify God. Even as a Christian who has grown up in the church, this phrase usually feels incredibly foggy to me. I have no other context where I can compare the usage of the word “glorify.” If other Christians have the same confusion, it might explain why so many people got so excited about “the Purpose Driven Life”—they don’t understand what their lives as Christians are about! The imperatives are endless—pray continually, give joyfully, encourage one another daily, love your neighbor as yourself, etc. But we’re about to drown, lost in a sea of imperatives, not finding any that will keep us afloat.
                Somehow, over time, my passion for God’s glory has grown while I’ve slowly grasped what it means. You see, most non-Christians don’t read the Bible. But they have an idea in their heads of what the Christian God is like. Where does that idea come from? Us. Each individual and each church is representing God. Somehow, people who never use the word “glorify” and have no idea what our mission is, expect us to be like the God we worship.
                How well is the American church glorifying God? According to Barna research, when most “unchristians” think of Christians, they think of people who are hypocritical, antihomosexual, sheltered, too political, judgmental, and only care about converting people. We have a terrible reputation. We are most known for traits that don’t reflect God at all.
                This isn’t surprising. We talk all the time about how the postmodern generation views Christians. And we talk about what to do about it, because we’re not really sure. I’m not really sure. I have HOURS every week during which my coworkers and I are bored crazy but have no idea what to talk about. I quickly buy into the lie that I don’t have enough in common with them to have any hint of a meaningful relationship. So I rarely get my hopes up that I might get the chance to talk to them about God. And I certainly don’t expect any of them to believe in Jesus and be saved from sin, turn from idols, and walk in newness of life.
                I have a feeling I’m not alone. In the midst of our discussions of what it looks like to be missional, I’ve wrestled with questions about whether Holy Trinity Church is missional or not. My first realization is that I don’t really know. I don’t know about the relationships being developed by anyone outside of my community group or the youth group. Even within those groups, I don’t know if anyone is praying for their lost friends regularly. If they are, I don’t know the names of the people they’re praying for. I don’t know what conversations they’ve already had. Secondly, I’ve wondered how to move beyond discussing ideas. How do you grow within a congregation a burden for the lost? How does one become humble enough and grateful enough for their salvation that they show irresistible grace towards their coworkers? How do we stir up hope for the city to be transformed by the Gospel?
          Call me postmodern, but I think the solution is in stories. But I’m not just talking about telling stories to non-Christians. I’m talking about Christians telling each other stories. Imagine that one of Robert Kinney’s classmates asked him if his beliefs give him any fulfillment in life, because he’s struggling to find motivation to continue school. So Robert gets to talk about the relief and gratitude and peace that he’s received from God’s salvation and how it has freed him to live a life full of meaning. Imagine Sam Smith goes out for drinks with some guys after playing baseball. After being asked what he does for a living, he gets to tell them about Hope for Chicago, which leads to a great conversation about helping people who don’t deserve it because that’s how God treats us. Now also imagine that none of us knew about either of these exciting interactions. Instead, we would have the perception that God isn’t working. It’s much harder to have hope for the salvation of the non-Christians in our lives when we don’t hear about God saving anyone else.
          One time Jon Dennis mentioned in his sermon that he had a spiritual conversation with a fellow passenger on the #6 bus. I’ve always wondered if I should attempt to have conversations with CTA strangers or not. To hear my pastor talk about it made me consider it more seriously. Another time, Dave Helm shared with us how doing 3-1-2 prayer was bringing about more opportunities to talk to the people he was praying for, and how his feelings towards them were changing. To me, this was a strong motivator towards practicing 3-1-2 prayer—more so than just reading booklets and being reminded to try it. It got me excited about the Holy Spirit working in our neighbors.
           Every Christian has the privilege and obligation to share the Gospel, to make God known in order to bring Him worship. But this mission is in vain if it is void of love. In fact, loving is making God known. That’s why being missional isn’t just about evangelism. We learn to love from the church. Our Sunday gatherings may not be the most effective form of evangelism, but if we are deeply engaged in one another’s lives, visitors will notice our love for one another. It looks much different than typical small talk and surface-level interactions. 1 Jn. 4:12 says, “No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.” The church is the body of Christ. We—through the Holy Spirit!—make Him visible to a world blinded by sin when we love one another. “We love because he first loved us.” (4:19) Everything I have understood about God on a cognitive level has become so much more meaningful when I’ve experienced it or seen it in His image bearers. A key part of my faith foundation is the incredibly loving church family I grew up in.
           Being missional is about making God known. The church body makes Him known (especially to one another) by loving. Each member can then make Him known by loving those outside the church. This includes the social justice issues many focus on. It includes overseas missions. It includes bringing people to church and community group. It includes inviting neighbors and coworkers over for lunch, studying with non-Christian classmates, taking a homeless person out to dinner. One idea that recently crossed my mind is encouraging Christians who are good writers to engage in the slam poetry subculture. It’s a public square where people lay their hearts out on a stage and communicate powerfully through spoken word.
                Around the same time that this year’s Chicago Plan started meeting, I started working at Jimmy John’s. Part of why I’m still in Chicago a year after graduating college is that I want to make God known here. I have at least gotten a better picture of the fallenness of the human nature.  I’ve heard firsthand how little my peers know about God and Christianity. I’ve struggled to figure out how to get my coworkers to be real with me even though I’m their manager. I’ve failed at making time for them outside work. My hope for their salvation wavers. At the least, I can relate to the majority of the church body who works in such a secular environment. My prayer is for so much more, though—that I would love my coworkers more deeply, that my community group and the youth group would spur one another on in making God known, that I would learn how to communicate the Gospel verbally in a way that makes sense to the unchurched. May God stir in your hearts also a renewed hope that more of your coworkers, classmates, neighbors, friends, and family would truly know and worship Him.

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