Grounded

On July 1, 2016, a terrifying thing happened. Lightning struck the historic wooden dome of the Maryland State House in Annapolis. The strike was so loud and booming that Larry Hogan, the governor of Maryland, ran out of Government House, his official residence, and over to the State House, expecting the worst. But miraculously, there was no fire and no damage. 

Interviewed later, Hogan credited the lack of catastrophe to the 28-foot-high lightning rod that towers above the State House dome. Why, that lightning rod has been there for over 220 years, but it did a stupendous job, sending 300 million volts of electricity down its wrought-iron structure and grounding the lightning bolt in the good earth below!

In the first nine verses of the book of Revelation -- our scriptural focus for this blog -- lightning flashes all around. Why, the early church is in a storm cloud, buffeted by threats and persecution, as the Roman emperor seeks to be sovereign, lording over all. But John keeps declaring that Jesus is Lord—Jesus is supreme—and our well-being, our grounding, is in Him, no matter what flashes about!

Have you noticed that lightning is flashing about us as well, as entities other than Jesus seek to “lord over” us? Be it the deception of civil religion, the surge of racism, the curse of violence, or the void of postmodernism, highly charged forces are seeking to dominate our lives. But John’s Revelation is still relevant, reminding us that through Jesus, we too can stay grounded—not burned by idolatry or fried by the world, the flesh, and the devil.

For starters, John counsels: Grasp the Sufficiency of the Savior. Other life forces appear to be almighty, but only Jesus, John declares in Revelation 1:5, is “the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, the ruler of the kings of the earth” (Rev. 1:5, emphasis added). Such a listing illustrates the magnitude of Christ’s Lordship, sealed through His death as faithful witness, His resurrection as firstborn of the dead, and His exaltation with God as ruler of all.

But despite such certain theology, too often, we’re ruled by seductive ideology. A dominant ideology is consumerism, which has enveloped Western culture, trumpeting not the Gospel of Jesus but the Gospel of More—more power, more profit, more production, more products, more prestige. Recently, I was out with a friend who mentioned a mutual acquaintance who was considering entering yet another competition after already winning a zillion gold medals. “Wow,” I thought sarcastically, “how many more medals does that person need before finally feeling satisfied?” And then it dawned on me: How many more medals do I need before finally feeling satisfied? For if I’m perfectly honest, I’m not satisfied—I’m still restless, “prone to wander,” in the words of Robert Robinson, “prone to leave the God I love.”

But such drift lessens as we adopt a larger vision shaped by God-gain, not self-gain, as we Embrace the Call of the Kingdom. As John’s revelation continues, it’s clear he wants us not only to know Christ but also to know Christ’s mission, for Jesus “has freed us from our sins by his blood,” John notes in Revelation 1:5–6, “and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father” (Rev. 1:5–6). It’s fascinating to see John holding together personal piety and prophetic witness. Freedom from sins is crucial, but it is not an end in itself—it’s a gift to free us for Kingdom outreach. We receive from Jesus—to go with Jesus.

But as lightning flashes about, we’re reminded that we don’t go with Jesus into tame territory. Instead, the mission field we enter is hostile, working at cross-purposes to the Gospel. Thus, the church, at its core, is a countercultural movement, asserting, in the words of Stanley Hauerwas and Wil Willimon, “that God—not nations—rule the world, that the boundaries of God's kingdom transcend those of Caesar, and that [our] main...task...is [to be a] people who see clearly the cost of discipleship...” viewing the church as a gathering of “resident aliens—an adventurous colony—in a society of unbelief.”

And so, our most radical act as the church is to be different in Christ—declaring out loud that Jesus is Lord, echoing with John in Revelation 1:6: “to [Jesus] be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen” (emphasis added). Though often overlooked, John meant for his revelation to be read out loud. “Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of the prophecy,” John notes in Revelation 1:3 (emphasis added), a practice reminiscent of the Jewish habit of reading Scripture aloud in the synagogue. But John also intended his revelation to be obeyed out loud as well. “Blessed are those who hear and...keep what is written in it,” John notes in Revelation 1:3 (emphasis added). And so, a “revelation church” is a church that majors in creating the future—not predicting the future—trumpeting and incarnating out loud God’s New Creation in Christ.

Evangelism has always been a passion of mine. But over time, I’ve concluded that evangelism is not just individual witness for Jesus but also a community embodiment of Jesus. For “the most evangelistic thing the church can do...is to be the church,” Bryan Stone reminds us, “to be formed imaginatively by the Holy Spirit through...worship, forgiveness, hospitality...into a distinctive people...a new social option...the body of Christ” (emphasis added). Is your congregation a new social option in Christ or just “the same old, same old”? Friends, we don’t need more of the “same old, same old”; we need more New Creation in Jesus, another way of living, an accent on “becoming the Gospel,” to quote biblical theologian Michael Gorman, not just “believing the Gospel.”

But let’s be candid: that takes time and stamina; you can’t microwave New Creation. And so, with John, we must Adopt the Long Haul of Endurance. I love the way John ends our Scripture text in Revelation 1:9: “I, John, your brother who share with you in Jesus the persecution and the kingdom and the patient endurance...because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus” (Rev. 1:9). Note John’s emphasis on patient endurance in relation to persecution and Kingdom work. In essence, John is saying you won’t survive the lightning—you can’t be resident aliens, an adventurous colony—without “a long obedience in the same direction,” to cite Eugene Peterson, walking with Jesus for the long haul.

In 1983, Cliff Young, a 61-year-old Australian potato farmer, won the Westfield Sydney-to-Melbourne Ultra-Marathon, a 544-mile endurance race. Amazingly, Young ran the race in his work overalls and gumboots, without his dentures, claiming they rattled as he ran! His first day out was pathetic, as Young adopted an odd pace, shuffling slowly and trailing the pack. But soon, things changed dramatically. Though other runners stopped running and slept for six hours each evening, Young just kept shuffling along. In fact, Young kept shuffling for five consecutive days, never stopping to sleep, eventually winning the ultramarathon by a whopping ten hours! Rewarded for his victory, Young was given a $10,000 prize, but he promptly split it among his support crew and fellow runners, saying he didn’t need a prize. Not surprisingly, Young became an instant celebrity, with his remarkable victory studied for years. In due course, it was concluded that Young’s uncommon endurance resulted from his uncommon pace—the odd way he walked. Why, it was the “Young Shuffle,” as it came to be known, that propelled him, providing the most aerodynamic stride possible.

Frankly, it’s the odd way Jesus calls us to walk that propels us as well. You might call it the “Jesus Shuffle,” as we’re summoned to move through dominant culture in an uncommon way. Oh, at first, we too look pathetic, strangely out of step; but in the end, Christ’s cadence is the most aerodynamic stride possible. 

And so, I call us to shuffle with Jesus, moving through the storm clouds of civil religion—racism—violence—postmodernism—with endurance, with an odd cadence and countercultural message in Christ. For as John reminds us, Jesus is “the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, the ruler of the kings of the earth” (Revelation 1:5, emphasis added). 

That’s the grounding an adventurous colony needs—the truth resident aliens trumpet and incarnate out loud! Sure, other life forces “strut their stuff,” “flash their lightning,” and aim to rule. But we keep shuffling, shuffling, shuffling, declaring unapologetically that Jesus is Glory—Jesus is Savior—and Jesus is Lord!

Take Every Thought Captive

In 2020, researchers at Queen’s University in Canada isolated “thought worms”—consecutive time episodes when individuals are focused on the same notion. As a result, they determined that “the average person has about 6,200 thoughts per day.” Given this volume of thinking, it is not hard to fathom the impact—for either good or ill—that is linked to the quality of our thoughts. Think godly sentiments—and a contribution is made to wholeness. Think ungodly notions—and a debit is made to overall well-being.

Scripture supports this conviction. “For as [a person] thinks in his heart, so is he” (Prov 23:7 NKJV). Therefore, it is best to reprogram our minds to ruminate and seek the thought process of God and His way of life.

One problem: other voices compete, becoming entrenched in our minds. When I was growing up, the music in our house often came from a record player. The device featured a turntable, along with an arm with a stylus that contained a needle that picked up music from a vinyl recording. Usually, the record player worked fine, but periodically, its needle got stuck on the record, and the same refrain would repeat over and over from the recording we were playing. I remember the needle getting stuck once on one of my father’s favorite Guy Lombardo records, “Enjoy Yourself.” Things went fine through most of the recording, but when it reached the song’s refrain, “Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think,” the needle got stuck, and the last phrase of the chorus started to repeat over and over again: “It’s later than you think. It’s later than you think. It’s later than you think.”

If we’re candid, a similar refrain gets stuck in our being on too many occasions. Rather than a repetitive hopeful thought, dreary notions all too often get stuck in our heads and hearts, recurring over and over again. But we’re called to interrupt the drone of such negativity with a gospel word of goodness, allowing God’s sentiment to reverberate continually in the core of our person.

There are multiple summaries of the Lord’s outlook, including the broad refrain of the gospel, which can’t be repeated enough: Jesus rescues! But beyond that sweeping truth, we must also repeat the gospel’s manifold truth, echoing the particulars of Christian insight. One listing is voiced by the apostle Paul in Philippians 4: “focus your thoughts on these things: all that is true, all that is holy, all that is just, all that is pure, all that is lovely, and all that is worthy of praise” (v. 8 CEB).

One prominent expression of true, holy, just, pure, lovely, praise-worthy thought is forgiveness. When we forgive, we fill our minds with graceful thought. When we don’t forgive, we fill our minds with resentful thought. The difference in outcomes is striking. While researching forgiveness at the University of Pennsylvania, speaker/trainer Kathi Norman discovered that those who were forgiving experienced overall health, well-being, and life longevity, whereas those not forgiving experienced “increased anxiety, depression, elevated blood pressure, vascular resistance, decreased immune response, and worse outcomes in coronary artery disease.”

It’s not surprising, then, that the theme of thought-control runs throughout Scripture. It’s especially striking in the teaching of the apostle Paul as he reminds the church at Corinth: “Our battle is to bring down every deceptive fantasy and every . . . defence that [persons] erect against the true knowledge of God. We even fight to capture every thought until it acknowledges the authority of Christ” (2 Cor 10:4–5 PHILLIPS).

The etymology of the word capture means to subjugate, to bring under control. In one instance, it refers to taking a prisoner of war into custody (Eph 4:8). In sum, the overall drift of “capture” is to win a battle; in the context of 2 Corinthians 10:4–5, it’s a battle for our very psyche, by seizing and dominating devilish thoughts, imprisoning them within the logic of Jesus.

In doing so, we strive for more of the intellect of the Savior, seeking, in the words of the apostle Paul, to “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” (Phil 2:5). The result is a rising “yes” perspective, in Christ, that reflects a growing conviction of the Almighty’s wisdom, rather than being controlled by fretful thought or circumstance.

Central Presbyterian Church, where my wife, Robin, serves on staff in Baltimore, is filled with compassionate, Christ-guided people. When our family faced a significant crisis, we were reeling, reaching for people to support us amid unthinkable injury. Friends at Central were some of the first individuals we contacted. One Central saint was especially effective in her empathy and conviction. As we poured out our hearts to her, she listened well and reflected prayerfully; but then declared her faith passionately: “God’s got this!”

In doing so, she entered our painful moment sensitively, but then called us to be captive to God rather than restless considerations. As she did, our Central friend reminded us that we can’t avoid injury, but we can avoid falling victim to a despairing mindset that so easily wells up in disappointing episodes. Shifting mental gears is a process, and far from easy, but a necessary step in becoming aligned with the Savior’s logic.

It’s wise for us to shift gears. So, align with the Savior’s logic and release a despairing mindset. Let a “yes” outlook arise within—taking every thought captive, in Christ!

Write the Note, Make the Visit, Say the Words

Have you noticed that we tend to take each other for granted?

Once, I was back at the congregation where I served as an interim pastor for a summer. Visiting with an older member of the church, he talked about the recent loss of his beloved wife.

“Every night, when she was alive, we’d sit on the couch and read the newspaper—my wife on the left, me on the right—commenting on different things,” he said. “The other evening, however, the strangest thing happened. I sat on that same couch and read the newspaper, commenting on different things, and then, without thinking, I instinctively turned to the left, fully expecting my wife to respond and be there. But of course, she wasn’t. Then it hit me: I still live with the assumption that she’ll always be there.”

Many of us still assume that our loved ones will always be there, that our employment will never change, that our children will always be young, and that our friends will always be available. And then they’re not, and we’re left impacted and reeling. Varied lessons flow from such wake-up calls, including the sober conclusion: we tend to take our lives and the lives of others for granted.

Interestingly, the Apostle Paul rarely took anybody or anything for granted. No wonder he is constantly giving thanks in his epistles. In nine of his thirteen letters, Paul goes out of his way to itemize his gratitude for those involved in his ministry. According to pastor and scholar Kevin DeYoung, Paul was “…thankful for their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ… He was thankful for their love for all the saints… He was thankful for their steadfastness, especially in trial… He was thankful for their spiritual gifts… He was thankful for their partnership in the gospel… He was thankful for their history and mutual affection.”

Philippians 1:3–4 summarizes Paul’s intentional gratitude—his passion for expressing thanks:

“I thank my God every time I mention you in my prayers. I’m thankful for all of you every time I pray, and it’s always a prayer full of joy.” (Philippians 1:3–4, CEB)

I think Paul was fervent about gratitude because he knew loss. In 2 Corinthians 11:22–27, Paul describes shipwrecks, sleepless nights, brutal attacks, hunger, and difficult circumstances. Paul knew that life could “turn on a dime,” that life is a mist, to quote James 4:14 (NIV). So now is the time to give thanks. Now is the time to write the note, make the visit, and say the words expressing gratitude.

Author and pastor William Stidger tells of finally coming to this conviction. He decided to write a note of thanks to a beloved schoolteacher to whom he had never fully expressed his appreciation. In due time, he received a reply from this former mentor:

“My dear Willie, I cannot tell you how much your note meant to me. I am in my eighties, living alone in a small room, cooking my own meals, lonely, and, like the last leaf of autumn, lingering behind. You will be interested to know that I taught school for fifty years, and yours is the first note of appreciation I ever received. It came on a blue, cold morning, and it cheered me as nothing has in many years.”

Stidger was deeply surprised and moved, and as a result, he began writing many additional thank-you notes.

So, to whom do you owe a thank-you note—or perhaps a thank-you phone call or visit? After all, we're called not only to Thanksgiving as a holiday, but thanks-living as an ongoing pattern of being. But not just generally or generically. We are called to give and live thanks specifically and personally, expressing gratitude intentionally and taking nothing and no one for granted.

I shared earlier that about an interim pastorate I served in during the course of a summer. On my last Sunday, congregation members were invited to write notes of appreciation, gratitude, and thanks to me, and I received a whole slew of them. When I got home, I read every one and was deeply touched; I had no idea I had impacted people so deeply.

When I finished reviewing the notes, I started to put them in a file folder and tuck them away. But then I paused and thought twice, remembering the difficulty of some seasons. Instead, I placed them on a shelf near my desk so I could easily access them on difficult days. Can you guess how often I’ve pulled those notes off the shelf and reread them since my interim pastorate? Several times every week! I need gratitude, thanks, and appreciation more than I realize.

I don’t think I’m the only one. Everyone reading this blog needs to know they are cherished, treasured, and valued. So, like the Apostle Paul, remember the people in your relational world and express gratitude. 

Tell them, in the spirit of the Apostle Paul:

“I thank my God every time I mention you in my prayers. I’m thankful for you every time I pray, and it’s always a prayer full of joy.” (Philippians 1:3–4, CEB)

Reach out deliberately to express your gratitude to others. After all, we're called not only to celebrate thanksgiving as holiday but also as a way of life (thanks-living).

So write the note, make the visit, and say the words. Express your thanks, gratitude, and appreciation. Take nothing and no one for granted!

We're All Family Here

One of the oddities of the English language is the number of words that mean “group.” For example, we refer to a crowd of people, a box of crayons, and a pad of paper. But the most striking group names are related to animals. Why do we refer to an army of ants, a kindle of kittens, a charm of hummingbirds, a congress of baboons, a knot of toads, a movement of moles, and—my favorite—a murder of crows?

As we turn to Scripture, we see a similar pattern in how the church is described. Multiple names are used for the people of God: “the assembly of the upright” (Psalm 111:1), “the branch of God’s planting” (Isaiah 60:21), “the flock of God” (Ezekiel 34:15), “the fold of Christ” (John 10:16), “the congregation of the Lord’s poor” (Psalm 74:19), “the pillar and ground of truth” (1 Timothy 3:15), and “the lot of God’s inheritance” (Deuteronomy 32:9).

But my favorite comes from Ephesians 2:19, where we are called “God’s household”—or more literally, God’s family. Fundamentally, we are family as church. Yes, we are an organization, a gathering, a congregation. But at our core, we are kinfolk, related through the blood of Jesus. Once, we were not family—we were estranged—but now, as Paul explains in Ephesians 2, “you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ” (Ephesians 2:13).

Such nearness and community are vital because we live in an alienated, lonely world. In fact, the U.S. Surgeon General recently declared that we are experiencing an epidemic of loneliness. In 2021, 49% of adults reported having three or fewer close friends, compared to 27% in 1990. Loneliness is even more severe among young people: for those ages 15–24, time spent in person with friends dropped from 150 minutes per day in 2003 to just 40 minutes in 2020—a decline of nearly 70%.

Facebook and other communication tools are valuable—but face time is vital. In this fractured, lonely society, we must draw closer together, discovering a deeper sense of family and community in Jesus. As we continue in Ephesians 2, we find clues for how that happens.

Affirm That Family "In Christ" Is Not Dependent On Status Or Labels

 In the larger society, you have community because of who you are—your title, position, or status. But in the church, you have community because of Jesus. Paul makes this clear in Ephesians 2:14–15: Christ “has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility… His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace.”

In biblical times, Jews were often seen as the best, while Gentiles were considered the least—outsiders and strangers. But now, because of Jesus, those distinctions are erased. In Christ, there are no “little people.” Even those once considered outsiders are fully included.

Who have you labeled as “little people”? Who do you consider the least rather than the best?

Growing up in Hagerstown, Maryland, I considered the “North-enders” the least. They were the wealthy folks who lived in the north end of town, belonged to the country club, drove big Buicks, and ate at expensive restaurants. But everything changed when my family joined the Hagerstown Church of the Brethren. That church included both poor South-enders like wealthy North-enders and me. And we sat together, worshiped together, ate together, and worked together.

At one point, we even danced together—because the first love of my life, in God’s sense of humor, turned out to be a North-ender. A very rich North-ender, I might add—someone I eventually took to my senior prom. That’s just like God: bringing together people who would never expect to be together. As Paul reminds us, Christ “has destroyed the dividing wall of hostility” (Ephesians 2:14).

Work For Reconciliation And Peacebuilding

Despite Christ’s vision of unity, much still divides us. We must be intentional about tearing down walls and building a new community in Jesus. As Paul continues, Christ reconciles us “to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility. He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near” (Ephesians 2:16–17).

2023 marked the 100th anniversary of one of the Church of the Brethren’s most remarkable mission efforts: the birth of EYN, the Church of the Brethren in Nigeria. If ever there were a community that embodies the family of God, it is this fellowship of nearly one million believers. Yet their story has unfolded under immense hardship.

For years, EYN has faced persecution from Boko Haram, one of the world’s deadliest terrorist groups. Over 1,600 churches have been burned or abandoned, about 70% of their material assets. Yet the church continues to thrive, marked by deep community and peace.

Whenever attacks came, members fled—but wherever they went, they planted new congregations. As one EYN leader said, “EYN is a wounded healer… Boko Haram has succeeded in destroying church buildings, thinking they will stop Christianity. But as we ran, we ran with our faith, and Christ was with us.” The result has been a movement of relocation, reconstruction, and even reconciliation—including peacebuilding with Muslim neighbors.

That’s what happens when you truly live as God’s family: you pursue peace even with your fiercest enemies. This doesn’t mean abandoning convictions, but it does mean seeing others not as threats, but as people made in the image of God. Show hospitality—even to those you struggle to like. Whether Muslim or Christian, Black or white, lifelong Brethren or new believers, progressive or evangelical, contemporary or traditional—we must treat one another with love and civility, not hostility and hate.

But we must go further. We must not only love people—we must invite them into the family. 

Reach Out And Enlarge Christ's Community

Paul notes in Ephesians 2:17 that Jesus preached peace both to those who were near and those who were far away. “For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit” (Ephesians 2:18). The gospel is not just for those already inside the family—it is for those still waiting to be welcomed.

Paul described himself in many ways: a servant of God (Titus 1:1), the worst of sinners (1 Timothy 1:13–15), the least of the apostles (1 Corinthians 15:9), and the least of all God’s people (Ephesians 3:8). But more specifically, he called himself “an apostle to the Gentiles” (Romans 11:13). This is striking, because Paul was not a Gentile—he was a devout Jew, a “Hebrew of Hebrews” (Acts 23:6). Yet his mission was to reach those outside the family.

So who is not yet part of your church family?

Your congregation is beautiful. The ways you are already breaking down labels and building peace matter deeply. But there are still people outside your circle who long to belong. Invite them in.

Yes, outsiders may seem different—even strange. Like the Gentiles of Paul’s time, they may not fit your expectations. They may think, vote, and worship differently, or come from different backgrounds. But they are made in the image of God.

That’s why Paul boldly declares, “You are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household” (Ephesians 2:19).

And so we say to those still outside: You are loved. You are needed. You are wanted. You, too, are family here.

Becky Pippert tells the story of a church in Oregon struggling to welcome outsiders. One Sunday, a disheveled young man—messy hair, stained T-shirt, ripped jeans—walked in during the opening hymn. Finding no seats, he walked to the front and sat on the floor.

The congregation grew tense as the head deacon—a well-dressed, polished man—walked down the aisle toward him. People braced for confrontation. But instead, something unexpected happened. The deacon sat down beside the young man on the floor—and stayed there for the rest of the service.

That is the picture of the family of God.

We are called to sit with one another—not just in worship, but in life. Regardless of appearance, status, or background, we embrace one another in Christ.

So let us live this out, declaring both inside and outside the church: You are loved. You are needed. You are wanted. You, too, are family here.

For in Christ Jesus, “you who once were far away have been brought near” (Ephesians 2:13). We have been drawn into a love that will not let us go—a love meant not only for us, but for all: for outsiders, for strangers, for everyone who longs for home.

Will the Future Have A Church?

Once, a friend was traveling on a subway in New York City. As she did, she noticed a fellow passenger staring at her, specifically at the cross hanging around her neck. 

       

 “Can I help you?” She asked after a moment.

        “Why yes,” the passenger replied. “I was just admiring your

         necklace. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is!

        “Why, it’s a cross!” my friend said, surprised.

        “Pardon me for asking,” the woman replied, “But what’s a cross?”

Now, on first glance, we find that story far-fetched. But it’s not, for we no longer live in a Christian world, but a post-Christian one—one that no longer identifies with Christian images, words, or culture.

One obvious example is the absence of Blue Laws. Does anyone remember Blue Laws—regulations that prohibited certain activities on Sundays so as not to compete with worship and Sabbath rest? Why, in Hagerstown, MD, when I grew up, nothing was open on Sundays, and no sporting activities ever occurred. But today, everything is open, and sporting practices and games abound!

Now, such change is not necessarily “bad,” but it is a wake-up call reminding us that the church no longer receives preferential treatment in culture. In fact, the church is sidelined. Thus, as we envision ministry, we must remember: people will no longer come to us; we must go to the people.

In other words, we must become missional, viewing our own backyard as a mission field filled with disinterested, irreligious people. In sum, we must revive what the Brethren once called “home mission,” reaching not only the “…ends of the earth…” but also “…Jerusalem, and…Judea and Samaria…” (Acts 1:8). 

Turn Inside Out, Radiating The Passion Of Jesus

For starters, turn inside out, radiating the passion of Jesus. The best textbook for envisioning ministry is the book of Acts. In Acts, the early church models an outreach alive and vibrant, turning inside out for Jesus. 

My favorite Acts story is Paul and Silas in Thessalonica (Acts 17). Paul and Silas hold a revival meeting, challenging all “…that Jesus is the Anointed One, the Messiah!” (Acts 17:3). And some Jews believed, “…along with quite a few prominent women and a large number of Greeks” (Acts 17:4), Luke tells us. "But the Jews became jealous, and with the help of some ruffians in the marketplaces they formed a mob and set the city in an uproar...[dragging Paul and Silas' friend Jason, and members of his house church]...before the city authorities, shouting, “These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also...They are all acting contrary to the decrees of the emperor, saying that there is another king named Jesus.” (Acts 17:5-7)

Wow! Talk about vibrant, faithful ministry! Paul and Silas model holy boldness, going beyond conventional outreach to the Jews, toward community outreach to the Greeks. Paul and Silas are clear:  Jesus’ mission is not tame, but a risky, ‘turning the world upside down.’ 

And so a question: are we ‘turning the world upside down’? Mission is not launched, tamely. Mission is launched, boldly, as we ‘raise our sights,’ passionately, announcing, there is no other king than Jesus!

Jesus’ Kingship is crucial. For we’ll never do faithful mission, unless we’re convicted that Jesus is Lord, the source of all conviction, the Anointed One, the Messiah, who in turn, anoints us. Frankly, it’s that conviction that fuels and energizes our outreach.

If ever there was one on a mission, it was Martin Luther King. But King’s mission almost died early when a deranged woman plunged a letter opener into his chest, early in his career. Rushed to a Harlem hospital, doctors carefully removed the object, but needed to make an incision that cut across the wound. The result? A permanent scar on King’s chest, in the shape of a cross. Reflecting later, Andy Young, a King confidant, revealed that King looked at that scar every morning, as it reminded him of the passion behind the passion: Jesus. Martin Luther King’s dream wasn’t his dream at all, but the dream of Jesus.  And so, is Christ etched into our life? Faithful mission never comes alive unless our passion is the passion of Jesus!

Be Open To New Methods  

But as you turn outward, have you noticed that we live in an Amazon-driven world, delivering messages and products in innovative ways, even by drone? Yet many churches still deliver the gospel using the “same old, same old.”

Now, please don’t misunderstand, there's nothing inherently wrong with the ‘same old, same old.’  But sometimes, we keep familiar traditions not because they’re effective, but because they’re familiar, and the familiar requires less energy than a new venture. But we can do better! We can take new risks, at any age, expending new energy, empowered by Jesus. Peter is spot-on in Acts 2:17: “‘In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams.” (Acts 2:17). New dreams for new methods are especially needed.

Tod Bolinger tells of Lewis and Clark’s quest to reach the far West. On first blush, their conventional methods appeared adequate. Hit the Continental Divide, find a river, and then paddle to the Pacific. But the ‘same old, same old’ was not enough, for instead of encountering a river, Lewis and Clark encountered the Rocky Mountains! And so, they had a choice. To adapt to unexpected terrain or paddle harder! Thank goodness, Lewis and Clark flexed their method; the U.S. would be vastly different if they had not adapted. 

But often, we don’t adapt; rather than flexing our methods, we just paddle harder! And so, yes, turn inside out with boldness, in Christ, but be open to new methods. A resource I often commend is the ‘Growing Young’ materials from Fuller Seminary. But whatever you utilize, turn outward, be in mission, in some unconventional way. 

Move Prayerfully, But Urgently

But as you do -- move prayerfully, but urgently, for a battle rages for humanity’s soul, as mega forces other than God, strive to capture human life. Just look at the rise of violence, and how violence dupes us into believing it can solve human dilemmas. But violence is never a solution. Only reconciliation through Christ is the solution. But we get complacent, thinking we have all the time in the world to convey that message. 

In C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters, there’s a classic scene where Satan and three of his demons discuss how to win the hearts of humanity. A first demon pipes up: "I've got it! Let's tell people there is no God!"  ‘That won’t work, Satan replied.  Then a second demon volunteers:  I know, we’ll tell people there is no heaven, no hell."  ‘That won’t work,’ Satan replied.  And with that, a third demon leaped to his feet:  "I have it!" he shouted. "We won’t say there’s no God -- we won’t say there’s no heaven, no hell. We'll just say, there’s no hurry." And with that, Satan’s beamed:  ah, the perfect lie to capture the hearts of humanity.

The first missional church, the early church, didn’t believe that lie. They exhibited a phenomenal urgency in outreach, fueled by a Jesus who reminded them that the stakes were high. Jesus’ admonition in Acts 26, first spoken to Paul on the Road to Damascus, is especially striking: “Up on your feet…” Christ remarks. “I’m sending you off to open the eyes of [the world], so they can see the difference between dark and light, and choose light…I’m sending you off to present my offer of…a place in the family, inviting them into the company of those who [really live] by believing in me.” (Acts 26:17-18, The Message). 

Notice that being a missionary for Jesus is not just a matter of proclamation, but also invitation. Specifically, an invitation to know Christ and the Body of Christ. Irreligious people are best convinced of Christ when they're in the company of others seeking to know Christ and His other way of living. 

And so, I offer a challenge: adopt a new resolve to reach people for the Savior and his other way of life. For there is a battle raging for the soul of humanity. And so, this is not a time for complacency, excuses, or rationalization. This is a time for urgency! This is a time to get up on our feet and point people to Jesus! 

One of my favorite stories concerns the time the kids and I got lost in Puerto Rico – way out in the countryside. We literally didn’t know where to go. And so, I did what any responsible Dad would do. I sent my 12-year-old son, Peter, into an unknown restaurant to get directions! After all, he knew 7th-grade Spanish! In short order, Peter got flustered, and for good reason. The folks in the restaurant were fluent in ‘mile a minute’ Spanish, and the restaurant really wasn’t a restaurant- it was a bar.  Racing back to the car, Peter was frantic. 

“Did you get directions?” I asked 

“Not really,” he said. “But some guy did try to help.  I mean I didn’t get everything he said, but boy

         was he animated! “Señor,” he motioned: “Señor: go this way -- not -- that way!”

We might not be the most fluent folk, but we can motion: go this way -- not -- that way. In this disoriented, irreligious world, we can redirect people to Jesus and His other way of living. For a battle is waging for the soul of humanity. 

Thus, in this violent age, missionaries of reconciliation are urgently needed, dreaming new dreams and seeing new visions that point people to Jesus. Don’t believe the lie that there is no hurry. Rather, claim the truth, there’s a new urgency to reach people for the Savior and His other way of life! Up on your feet, church! 

Turn the world upside down, church! Not only in Nigeria, Spain, and the Dominican Republic, but in every corner of your home mission field, as well. For Jesus is the Anointed One, the Messiah.  Our deepest conviction, our deepest passion. 

For there is no other Savior, no other Lord, no other King -- but Him!