Doctrine > Carpet Color

Personal confession time:

You know how we’re conditioned to smile and nod when we don’t have the energy to challenge something - even if it really bothers us? That’s me when people say,

“Oh, you’re Lutheran? Isn’t that just like being a Catholic?”

Yeeeah… Kind of.

Sort of, if you squint really hard.

But no, not really at all.

I wear a robe when I preach; that’s kind of similar. I tell people to stand up and sit down a bunch during worship; we have that in common with the Catholics. We both talk about Jesus and salvation and grace and the sacraments, but the meaning of each of those things is drastically different from Lutheranism to Catholicism.

There are reasons, after all, why we are separate. And they mostly come down to doctrine - what we believe and teach. If I were to detail the differences between Lutheran and Catholic doctrine, for example, with a side-by-side comparison chart or a highly stylized infographic, it wouldn’t take long to see how far apart we are (the same could be said of any two Christian denominations). Differences in doctrine demand division.

The Apostle Paul had a problem on his hands when he wrote his first letter to the Christians living in Corinth. The people were divided. So, he made a strong appeal to them:

I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another in what you say and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be perfectly united in mind and thought. (1 Corinthians 1:10)

It’s important that Christians agree on what we believe and teach. Saying that grace is the power God gives you to live a holy life is drastically different than defining it as God’s undeserved love for sinners. Saying that Jesus was a great man and godly example is drastically different than recognizing him as the Son of God and our Savior from sin. Saying that baptism is something we do to show God how serious we are in our faith is drastically different than seeing it as a means by which God washes our sins away.

Doctrine is so important. It’s absolutely necessary for unity among believers. And it’s the only reason that we should divide ourselves from other people who also call themselves Christian. No earthly squabble should separate us.

Doctrine > carpet color

Pastors sometimes pick on the color of carpeting as a low-risk example of the silly things that cause drama within a congregation. You can picture those meetings. “I like red!” “I like blue!” “I think it should be neutral!” “I think it shouldn’t show stains! “I think it should be purple… and shag… and on the wall…” (which may be why we don’t have any carpet in our church anymore…)

Doctrine is what is important, not the color of carpeting. If someone says that all religions lead to the same God and he’s too kind to send anyone to hell, you shouldn’t join them in formal fellowship because that’s a denial of what Jesus says in John 14:6 and Matthew 25:31-46. But if you don’t get your way and your church opts for the purple shag carpet on the walls, those aren’t grounds for taking your ball and going home. That’s just a difference of opinion on a matter of personal preference, not a point of doctrine.

And yet…

How many times have we seen carpeting become contentious? How often do we allow our pastor’s preaching style or the style of music used in worship to be the determining factor for whether we become (or stay) part of a congregation or not? How often do personal quarrels over silly little things that have nothing to do with God’s Word divide us?

Doctrine is what matters, but it’s not always the reason for division. It was true among the Corinthians too:

One of you says, “I follow Paul”; another, “I follow Apollos”; another, “I follow Cephas”; still another, “I follow Christ.” (1 Corinthians 1:12)

Paul, Apollos, Cephas and Christ all taught the same thing! Their doctrine was identical! And yet the Corinthians still found reasons to nitpick and form cliques, to make some external, silly, unnecessary quirk become divisive and detrimental to the body of Christ.

It’s true that doctrine > carpet color, but it’s the carpet that can so often cause problems. So, when Paul says that we should all agree on what we say, and that we should be perfectly united in mind and thought, he includes things like the time of worship, the design of our church, the format of Sunday School.

Now, that doesn’t mean that we all have to share the same affinity for puce colored upholstery, but it does mean that even if puce makes you want to puke but everyone else likes it, you shouldn’t let that be divisive. You are still united because you have one Lord:

Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Were you baptized in the name of Paul? (1 Corinthians 1:13)

Being perfectly united in mind and thought means being humble in our dealings with other Christians and not asserting our dominance over them in matters of opinion. It means keeping the “main thing” the main thing.

Is Jesus your Lord? He’s mine too.

Were you baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit? Me too.

Do you rely on the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross for your salvation from sin? Ditto.

If we all have the same Lord, if we’re all saved the same way, if we have the same hope of heaven, then I can let go of my personal opinion if you feel so strongly about yours, and I pray that you can do the same for me.

In unity and peace, we can fix our hearts and minds on Christ who unites in a bond that’s bigger than personal preference or shared opinion. He unites us in his blood. We are all sinners, but we are all sinners saved by grace and we will share in the inheritance of heaven together forever.

It’s never too early to start that sharing, so here’s to years of purple shag carpet and an eternity of unity in mind and thought!

Shameless

Writing titles is tough. You want to be witty but clear. You want to be content-specific but universally understood. And above all, alliteration always arrests attention.

I’ll admit that a constant temptation for me when writing a sermon is to start with the title. I don’t consciously think of it that way. I think it’s a result of trying to be thematic - setting the arc for my sermon and making sure it lands where it’s supposed to, i.e. staying “on message.” And sometimes a text will contain a word or phrase that just sounds good. It captures attention without trying too hard. Your eyes linger over the words as if they were written in bold.

That happened to me as I was preparing to preach on Luke 11:1-13. This is the account of Jesus teaching his disciples the Lord’s Prayer. After he speaks the words of the prayer, he explains it with a couple short parables. The first is about a person who bothers his friend in the middle of the night, asking for some bread. The newest (2011) translation of the New International Version of the Bible translates Jesus’ concluding statement this way:

I tell you, even though he will not get up and give you the bread because of friendship, yet because of your shameless audacity he will surely get up and give you as much as you need.

Shameless audacity. Now that’s title material.

Jesus’ Guide to Shamelessly Audacious Prayer

You Can Pray Shamelessly Too

Be Audacious Disciples

(Maybe my brain is broken, but that last one just looks like the French spelling for Bodacious Disciples.)

Shameless audacity doesn’t just use strong, captivating words; it provides powerful talking points that sometimes even happen to be biblical….

But that’s just the problem. As eager as I was on my first read through the text to rally my Christian family to be shamelessly audacious in their prayers, I wasn’t reading the text to understand; I was reading it to preach and I was missing the point.

When Jesus talks about prayer, and teaches us to pray to our Father in heaven, he is careful to explain that our confidence to be heard does not come from our shameless audacity, but from the willingness of the one who receives our prayer.

The first friend in Jesus’ parable, the one asking for the bread, didn’t bend the sleepy friend to his will with his powers of persuasion. He didn’t cash in a favor or threaten to ring the doorbell all night long. He just asked. He dismissed the fear of rejection - knowing full-well how inconvenient this request was going to be - and counted on the compassion of his friend.

That’s what prayer is. It’s not us storming the gates of heaven and dragging an unwilling God down to earth so that he can see the sorry state of affairs and do something about it. It’s us dismissing our fear of rejection and counting on the compassion of our Father in heaven.

And make no mistake about it - our Father in heaven is far better than any midnight friend. He can’t be inconvenienced. He doesn’t sleep! He knows all our needs before we ask, and he’s eager to give us his good gifts.

The point of prayer is not being shamelessly audacious (although, if you don’t ask how can you expect to receive?); it’s relying on the compassion of our God. The power of prayer does not belong to the pray-er; it belongs to God. We are not the heroes of prayer; as in everything, God is.

So be shamelessly audacious! We don’t have to shy away from that. We can lean into it, not because we believe in the power of the pray-er, but because we know who listens.

God grant you confidence, Christians, to pray, because of his power, but, even more, because of his compassion.

Roll Up the Rim to Win

As an American living in Canada for the last year, it’s been an adventure learning what life is like north of the 49th. I’m pretty sure that for the first two weeks of intensive cultural immersion, I consumed at least one double-double from Timmy’s every day (for you unconverted, here’s your explanation). After the diabetes set in (not really), I gave up the double shot of sugar but never lost my love for this Canadian treasure.

I had heard of Tim Horton’s before moving to Canada, but one thing I hadn’t experienced yet was what one of my friends dubbed his “favorite season of the year.” Better than summer, better than Christmas is Roll Up the Rim to Win season.

Like McDonalds with its version of Monopoly, every year Tim Horton’s holds a sweepstakes where you can roll up the rim of your disposable coffee cup to win prizes. People flock to Timmy’s. The promotion is wildly successful.

I was recently studying the Third Commandment in preparation for a sermon I was writing, when one phrase I had heard many times before, and had long ago committed to memory, jumped out at me in a new way:

We should fear and love God that we do not despise preaching and his Word, but regard it as holy and gladly hear and learn it.

How many things in this life do you regard as holy? How many things would you consider sacrosanct, inviolable, truly hallowed, consecrated, set apart-and-above everything else?

I think of parents who set aside family meal times and will not sacrifice that time together for anything, and it’s admirable. I think of my friend who has been going on a date with her husband every Friday night of their entire marriage, and I wish I had that kind of conviction. I think of my college classmates who would skip school to watch baseball games on TV (even though there are 2,000+ games in a year; don’t get me started on baseball…), and while I disagree with their priorities, I respect their commitment and passion.

Do you have that kind of regard for God’s Word? Do you approach your daily devotion with the same enthusiasm as you would searching for a prize during Roll Up the Rim to Win? I wish I did.

God’s Word is holy, no matter what I do with it, but if I regarded it as holy, I would treat it very differently. It wouldn’t be a textbook to find the answer for doctrinal questions that come up. It wouldn’t be on par with the USA Today Crossword puzzle as just one more morning habit. I would flock to it every chance I got. I would cherish and treasure and eat it up. I would sacrifice whatever else I had on the schedule to be with it.

As much as these four words prick my conscience, they also inspire my awe, because that’s what God did and does for you.

God regards you as holy.

To be fair, you are not holy. Neither am I. We are sinful, and our attitudes toward God’s Word prove it. But that’s not how God sees us. He has set us apart-and-above everything else. He has made sacrifices to be with us and the Sacrifice so that we can be with him. He showers us with his attention all the time and invites us to include him in our lives every moment of every day.

God cherishes and treasures you. He gave his Son for you. He wrote a love letter to you that spans 66 books and 1,500 years, so that no matter what season it is, you can always know how much he cares.

Next time you go get a cup of coffee or pick up a game piece at your favorite fast food joint, let yourself go; get into it; get excited about whatever potential prize might be hiding under the sticker or under the rim.

Next time you pick up the Good Book, see if you can’t channel that same kind of enthusiasm for the prize you know is waiting for you under the cover: God regards you as holy. You are his prize and he will be yours forever. Regard his Word as holy and gladly hear and learn it.