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Lord, we pray this day mindful of the sorry confusion of our world. Look with mercy upon this generation of your children so steeped in misery of their own contriving, so far strayed from your ways and so blinded by passions.
We pray for the victims of tyranny, that they may resist oppression with courage.
We pray for wicked and cruel men, whose arrogance reveals to us what the sin of our own hearts is like when it has conceived and brought forth its final fruit.
We pray for ourselves who live in peace and quietness, that we may not regard our good fortune as proof of our virtue, or rest content to have our ease at the price of other’s sorrow and tribulation.
Amen.
This prayer, penned by Reinhold Niebuhr some time in the 20th century (he lived from 1892-1971), was included in the daily devotional Rhonda and I read this week.
I can’t stop thinking about it.
The opening line—praying in light of “the sorry confusion of our world”—feels especially salient right now. The chaos we witness daily grieves us, disturbs us, angers us. And though there are certainly practical, tangible responses that can (and must) be done to push back against the chaos and to shelter the victims of said chaos, I’m convinced the first step is still prayer. Specifically, prayer for those who’ve strayed far from God’s ways… including ourselves.
It’s easy to draw lines between “us” and “them,” to assume that the problem is always out there with the Musks and Trumps of the world. Yet this prayer subtly invites us to recognize that the same forces of power, greed, fear that we lament—have a propensity to also take hold of our own hearts. We are not immune. The prayer, then, asks for mercy—mercy that sets us free from the very things that perpetuate the confusion and chaos in the first place.
Niebuhr’s line about praying for “wicked and cruel men” echoes Jesus’ call to pray for our enemies and those who persecute us (Matthew 5:43-45). We pray for them not only because we want to see liberation from the cruelty they unleash but because in doing so we reveal that none of us are far from becoming undone ourselves. We do not pray out of moral superiority but with a humility that sees that any one of us, left unchecked, can bear the same poisonous fruit we see unfolding before us.
And finally, that last paragraph might be my favourite. It’s a reminder that the peace and comfort we enjoy is not a sign of our own goodness. Often, it has come at a cost—borne by others, carried by those who have suffered and sacrificed for us. This prayer invites us to resist the lie that our ease is deserved and instead to hold gratitude and humility for the unseen trials that paved our way.
So friends, this week, I invite you to recite this prayer as often as you’re able. I believe this is an important and much-needed prayer in these chaotic days not only for the sake of the world but for the sake of our own souls.
Grace and Peace,
Steve
The post A Prayer Worth Returning To in These Chaotic Times appeared first on Grassroots Church.
It’s not a common practice for me to do this but this past Sunday, Cory shared an extensive quote from Nicholas Wolterstorff’s book, “Lament for a Son,” and I’d like to share it in its entirety here (hoping I’m not violating any copyright laws in the process! ). Please take a few minutes to read this slowly and reflectively:
“How is faith to endure, O God, when you allow all this scraping and tearing on us? You have allowed rivers of blood to flow, mountains of suffering to pile up, sobs to become humanity’s song—all without lifting a finger that we could see. You have allowed bonds of love beyond number to be painfully snapped. If you have not abandoned us, explain yourself.
We strain to hear. But instead of hearing an answer we catch sight of God himself scraped and torn. Through our tears we see the tears of God.
A new and more disturbing question now arises: Why do you permit yourself to suffer, O God? If the death of the devout costs you dear (Psalm 116:51), why do you permit it? Why do you not grasp joy?
For a long time I knew that God is not the impassive, unresponsive, unchanging being portrayed by the classical theologians. I knew of the pathos of God, I knew of God’s response of delight and of his response of displeasure. But strangely, his suffering, I never saw before.
God is not only God of the sufferers but the God who suffers. The pain and fallenness of humanity have entered his own heart. Through the prism of my tears I have seen a suffering God.
It is said of God that no one can behold his face and live. I always thought that meant that no one could see his splendor and live. A friend said perhaps it meant that no one could see his sorrow and live. Or perhaps his sorrow is splendor.
And great mystery: to redeem our brokenness and lovelessness, the God who suffers with us did not strike some mighty blow of power but sent his beloved son to suffer like us, through his suffering to redeem us from suffering and evil.
Instead of explaining our suffering, God shares it.
But I never saw it. Though I confessed that the man of sorrows was God himself, I never saw the God of sorrows. Though I confessed that the man bleeding on the cross was the redeeming God, I never saw God himself on the cross, blood from sword and thorn dripping healing into the world’s wounds.
What does this mean for life, that God suffers? I’m only beginning to learn. When we think of God the Creator, then we naturally see the rich and powerful of the earth as his closest image. But when we hold steady before us the sight of God the Redeemer redeeming from sin and suffering by suffering, then perhaps we must look elsewhere for earth’s closest icon. Where? Perhaps to the face of that woman with the soup tin in hand and bloated child at side. Perhaps this is why Jesus that inasmuch as we show love to such a one, we show love to him.
God is love, that is why He suffers. To love our suffering sinful world is to suffer. God so suffered for the world that he gave up his only Son to suffering. The one who does not see God’s suffering does not see his love. God is suffering love.
So suffering is down at the centre of things, deep down where the meaning is. Suffering is the meaning of our world. For Love is the meaning. And Love suffers. The tears of God are the meaning of history.
But mystery remains. Why isn’t Love-without-suffering the meaning of things? Why is suffering-Love the meaning? Why does God endure his suffering? Why does he not at once relieve his agony by relieving ours?”
Lots to be said here. I love how, at the outset, Wolterstorff cries out, “How is faith to endure, O God, when you allow all this scraping and tearing on us?” Ugh. There’s no sugar-coating here. No cliché about “everything happens for a reason.” Just raw, unadulterated lament. As Cory noted on Sunday, Lament is an important and necessary part of the suffering-to-healing process but yet is too often diminished or downplayed in our Shiny Happy People Christian culture.
I’d love for us to embrace lament more intentionally as a community. The reason being that as you continue to read Wolterstorff’s lament poured out, you discover that the lament itself leads to the stark realization that although God does not explain our suffering, he profoundly shares the experience with us. As I noted in last week’s post, the cross isn’t just where God saves us; it’s where he shows us who he is. Suffering love. Bleeding compassion. The God of sorrows. The Redeemer who enters our pain and bears it with us and for us.
This is what makes lament such a powerful tool in our healing. Somehow, God invites our pouring out of our grief and anger and our despair and in doing so, it leads us to a heart-realization that this God not only hears our lament, but laments with us. Himself having experienced suffering and despair. And I don’t know how but this mysteriously leads us into the assurance of his presence with us, which will lead, ultimately to our healing and restoration.
There’s a line in the song Lament by Seacoast that echoes this:
“You meet me in my suffering,
You know the ache inside,
You don’t despise my questions—
You just stay here by my side.”
That’s the kind of God we worship, revealed in the person of Jesus. Not distant. Not indifferent. But wounded. And present. With us. And, somehow, we discover this truth through our own crying out. So don’t shirk lament. Don’t resist it. Embrace it. For lament is what leads us to the God who suffers with us.
I invite you, at some point in the next few days of this remaining week, to take some serious time to reflect on both this quote from Wolterstorff and also this hauntingly beautiful song “Lament.”
See you Sunday!
Steve
The post Lament Leads us to a Deeper Understanding of the God who Suffers appeared first on Grassroots Church.
On Sunday, we began a conversation that we need to have but that, all too often, the Church has been too reluctant to have. We’re diving into the deep waters of suffering, asking: Why does a loving, all-powerful God allow pain and suffering?
It’s not an easy question and not one that we’ll pretend to have clear and concise answers for either. It’s also not a new question either. As we said on Sunday, the Book of Job, written some 3000 years ago, spends 42 chapters wrestling with it. Jesus’ own disciples asked it. You and I have probably asked it more times than we care to admit.
Brace yourself, I’m about to let the cat out of the bag with this series. Okay, while I think there are better ways of addressing this question than others, I ultimately don’t have much confidence we’ll arrive at a fully satisfying answer this side of the Resurrection. But. But. But. Even though there may not be a perfect resolution to the problem, this doesn’t mean there’s nothing of substance that can be said about it. In fact, I believe the Christian story offers more to the challenge of theodicy (that’s the big word used to describe all this) than any other religious or non-religious paradigm brings to the table. How so? Because, at the centre of this story is not an explanation to the problem of suffering, but rather a person… who suffers. And of course, it’s not just “a person” – it’s God himself. This is a God who doesn’t watch suffering from a distance but instead opts to step in and suffer with us. He offers solidarity with us in the act of suffering on the cross.
As an example, James Cone, in The Cross and the Lynching Tree, draws a parallel that’s both unsettling and yet helpful: Jesus’ crucifixion and the lynching of Black bodies in America are not just historically similar—they are theologically linked. Both were forms of public torture meant to dehumanize and terrify. And in both cases, the world looked away. Yet God didn’t.
“The cross,” Cone writes, “is God’s critique of power—white power—with powerless love, snatching victory out of defeat.” The cross is not just the place where sin is dealt with—it’s the place where God shows us he knows what it means to suffer unjustly, to be humiliated, to be abandoned. That’s powerful. I can’t quite articulate it (yet), but in the absence of any explanatory power, we are fit to remain silent when confronted by the God whose solidarity with us is found not in the overcoming or trampling of our own experiences of evil and suffering, but rather who enters into it directly, submitting to the worst that evil and suffering can deliver.
This changes everything.
It means God doesn’t just tolerate our pain or stand idly by as we endure it. He himself has felt it. He’s shouldered it. He’s still shouldering it alongside us. And somehow, mysteriously, that act of divine solidarity becomes the space where our hope for deliverance is born—not because the pain vanishes, but because we know we are not alone in it.
Now, I know, this is not a neat and tidy answer and it 100% sidesteps the question directly… and yet, it’s not nothing. In fact, I’d argue it’s the most honest, most costly, and most comforting thing that can be offered in the face of suffering: a God who knows suffering not by virtue of his omniscience but by virtue of his humanity.
This Sunday, Cory Hoogsteen will be guiding us further into this conversation. He’ll be helping us see how suffering isn’t just a problem to solve—it’s a relational weight we carry, especially when we love deeply. What if love itself invites vulnerability? What if pain is the cost of connection? Cory’s going to unpack this, and I’m confident it will stir something deep and important in all of us. I hope you’ll join us.
The post What the Cross Says When Words Fail appeared first on Grassroots Church.
Yesterday, the husband of the principal of the school we taught at the Bahamas died suddenly from blood leakage on his brain. His name was Troy and he was in his mid-50s and just a few weeks away from experiencing the joy of giving his daughter away to be married. So tragic. So random. So few answers to be found.
Why did that happen to him? Why didn’t God step in? Why is there so much pain in the world? Why do good people suffer while others seem to cruise through life untouched? At some point in life, most of us will bump into a version of the same question: If God is good and all-powerful, then why…?
We’ve all asked those questions. And if you haven’t yet, you probably will.
This Sunday, Cory Hoogsteen and I will be kicking off a new sermon series called “Why? A series exploring how we reconcile a loving God with the suffering of the world” where we’re going to spend some tome wading into the deep end of that question. The theological term for this is theodicy—the attempt to make sense of how a good and loving God coexists with a world that is so often marked by pain, injustice, and suffering.
And right off the top I want to set your expectations accordingly: this series will not offer easy answers. Or, perhaps, any answers! Not because we’re dodging the hard stuff but because we’re being honest about it and the truth is, people way smarter than us—prophets, poets, theologians, philosophers, armchair philosophers, and suffering saints throughout history—have been wrestling with this question for thousands of years and nobody has landed a clean and tidy explanation that wraps it all up with a bow.
That doesn’t mean there aren’t better theodicies than others but it just means that no matter how one slices it, the challenge will never seem to perfectly resolve. And if someone tells you otherwise, I think they’re probably either lying or just ignorant.
Consider the book of Job. It’s one of the oldest pieces of writing in the entire Bible. And guess what it’s about? A good man who suffers terribly for reasons that are never explained to him. Job cries out. His friends try to offer theories. God eventually speaks – through a series of unending questions to Job. And God’s answer doesn’t provide a rationale as much as he provides a reminder: we are human and God is God. There’s a curtain between us that we simply don’t have the ability to pull back and see.
So… if you’re coming to church hoping to finally unlock the mystery of why bad things happen to good people—brace yourself for a bit of disappointment. But also—maybe a little bit of freedom.
In my own experience, I know that deep down, answering the why might seem like it’s what I need but truthfully, it rarely resolves the grief or anger or disappointment that suffering brings on. I think sometimes what we need isn’t a solution but maybe just permission. Permission to ask the hard questions. To sit in the tension. To be honest about our doubts. To trust that God isn’t fragile or offended when we wrestle. And maybe to realize that we’re not alone in that wrestling. That’s the direction I hope we’ll move in with this series.
So come. Bring your questions. Bring your story. Bring the parts of your faith that feel strong and the parts that feel shaky. Come with your assumptions and presuppositions in tact but with an openness to be challenged and redirected. I’m praying that God will meet us in all of it.
Perhaps along the way, like Job, we’ll discover the presence of God in our suffering is better than any explanation of it.
Grace and Peace,
Pastor Steve
The post Confronting the Question We All Ask appeared first on Grassroots Church.
So, this past Sunday I shared about the powers and principalities and if you were there, you’ll note that I wasn’t referring, necessarily, merely to the scary ones with ominous names and spooky vibes—but more the subtle ones that tend to get a pass due to their very innocuous and non-threatening nature. You know, the ones that smile politely and offer you a coffee while they rearrange your soul and challenge your allegiance.
Paul saw these powers and principalities as operating in the unseen realm yet having very real influence in our world. Despite our tendency to imagine straightaway spiritual forces that look like dark figures with red horns and pitchforks, the reality is that most often, these powers don’t announce themselves with fanfare. They just blend in. They show up as just a part of every day life that we rarely pay heed to.
These spiritual forces are oftentimes the “ideas” and values that shape us. Here’s a sample that, if you’re at all like me, you’ll notice can rear its ugly head if we are only willing to be introspective:
- “More is better” (consumerism).
- “Be true to yourself above all else” (individualism, autonomy).
- “Our nation is sacred & superior” (nationalism, tribalism).
- “We are what we accomplish” (achievement, productivity culture).
- “Our worth is in our appearance, influence, success, etc” (image culture, capitalism, pick your poison).
Here’s the kicker: none of these would be considered “fringe” ideas. They’re pervasive in society – the marketing that we buy into, the newsfeeds we scroll through and the water cooler convos at the office. They’re just…. there. And so due to their subtle yet ubiquitous and insidious presence, they end up discipling us unawares. They shape how we live, think, spend, relate and even worship. If, as Paul suggests, these powers and principalities are in fact “spiritual powers,” that means they’ve got, well, power. They’ve got the potential to hold grip strength over us and that makes it tough to disassociate from–let alone to accept–their influence over us.
But it does not have to be this way, nor should it be for we whose allegiance belongs to a different Kingdom.
When when we say “Jesus is Lord,” it’s not just saying something sweet and spiritual that looks good on a bumper sticker. It is making a political, spiritual and even existential declaration. Effectively, in proclaiming Jesus is Lord, we’re saying “This other thing is not Lord.” In other words, we’re pushing against the spiritual powers directly. We’re confessing our allegiance to Jesus over nationalism. Over fear. Over my bank account. Over my ego. Over my curated online persona. Even over my religious assumptions that give me a sense of superiority. Ugh. That last one is a real toughy for us religious-types.
This week, here’s my challenge to all of us: Take inventory and pay attention to the forces, the powers, the ideals that are vying for your allegiance. Which of these “powers” do you notice are discipling you? What voices are shaping your week? What messages are forming your identity?
These ideals—the powers—don’t typically present like evil leaders or tyrants. Instead, they slip in through the side door. They show up in the apps we scroll, the headlines we skim, the expectations we absorb, and the stories we tell ourselves about what matters and who we are. They rarely demand your allegiance out loud—but they’re always recruiting and seeking greater influence in our world. And unless we name them, we’ll keep mistaking them for normal.
But here’s the good news: the Kingdom of God is not ruled by powers. It’s ruled by Jesus, crucified and risen. And wherever we see love, mercy, reconciliation, generosity, and community—the powers tremble, and the kingdom is surely breaking through.
Grace and peace,
Steve
The post The Powers That Blend In appeared first on Grassroots Church.
In preparation for our current series on The Kingdom and the Powers, I’ve been digging into the story of the Early Church—especially what it looked like before it became entangled with empire, when Christianity was still on the margins of society.
As I mentioned last Sunday, the earliest Christians were a ragtag group of nobodies. They lived in the Roman world, but their allegiance belonged to a different Kingdom—one ruled by a crucified and risen Messiah. They believed that this Kingdom wasn’t just a future hope, but a present reality breaking into the world. And they were committed to being catalysts of that inbreaking.
It should go without saying that this Kingdom they were ushering in looked nothing like Rome. In fact, it subverted everything Rome stood for. Unsurprisingly, these first followers of “the Way” suffered for it. They were viewed as a threat because they refused to worship the emperor or the Roman gods. As a result, they were tortured, imprisoned, excluded from public life, even killed. At best, they were seen as a nuisance. At worst, a danger.
And yet, it seems Rome was conflicted as well. Because, sure they didn’t worship Caesar, but they also did all sorts of things that helped society. Things no one else thought to do or couldn’t be bothered to do.
Take, for example, the widespread Roman practice of exposing unwanted infants. Children deemed weak, sickly, female, or simply inconvenient were left to die. One Roman philosopher, Plutarch, wrote:
“A father is not obliged to bring up all his children, but only those he deems fit; the weakly or deformed he shall expose.”
That was the norm. But Christians, living by a different ethic, did something totally contrary to this: they rescued these helpless infants. And others deemed unwanted, too! They took in the discarded, the vulnerable, the ones the Empire had deemed worthless—because in the eyes of their King, every life mattered.
Another example comes from Aristides of Athens, a non-Christian writing around 125 AD, who observes the peculiar morality of these Christians:
“They do not commit adultery nor fornication; they do not bear false witness… They love their neighbours; they judge justly… When they see a stranger, they take him into their homes and rejoice over him as a brother.”
In a world built on hierarchy, violence, and self-preservation, these first Christians lived… differently. Which caused them to stand out. They confounded the empire and its citizens because they didn’t opt for power or prestige or monetary gain. Instead, they placed their highest life’s pursuit to simply live out this strange and peculiar way of living in allegiance to this other Kingdom. This pattern is well documented but one recent scholarly source is The Patient Ferment of the Early Church by Alan Kreider (which you can find in our library by clicking that link).
This is how the early Christians embodied the Kingdom of God. This was their political revolution. There were no swords, no coups, no alliances with Caesar. Just ordinary people doing the slow, faithful, gritty work of loving their neighbour. As hard as it can be at times, this is still the revolution we’re invited to join.
Every student of an Intro to Western Civilization college course knows that things shifted dramatically in 313 AD when Emperor Constantine issued the Edict of Milan, granting Christianity legal status and eventually making it the favoured religion of the Empire.
Now to be fair—it wasn’t all downhill from there. History is never neat and tidy like that. There were significant benefits to this shift for the Church. Christians were no longer persecuted. Churches could be built. Public worship was protected. As such, the Faith spread rapidly throughout Europe and North Africa, supported by state funding and infrastructure. These are real gains that today’s church should be grateful for.
At the same time, faithful followers of Jesus should be compelled to ask: What did such gains cost us?
When Christianity moved from the margins to the center—when it gained power, protection, and privilege—did something essential go missing? Did the Church’s strange, upside-down, radical witness get traded for influence? For comfort? For proximity to Caesar? Arguably, I’d say very much so.
Because what made the early Church so compelling wasn’t their numbers or their buildings. It was their difference. Their strangeness. Their straight up counter-cultural weirdness. In other words, it was their refusal to submit to any kingdom but God’s.
This remains our challenge today. In some ways, the challenge has become even harder. We’ve had ~1600 years of Church and State intermingling. The State does many good things that can at times resemble the work of the Church (think social programming, hospitals, education, etc.) which we can and should support. But at the same time, the State is not the Church and never will be. It will will always do what it has to do to maintain power and control. It’s up to us, then, to walk the tension between State-goodness and Jesus-faithfulness. In other words, to embrace being weird when we have to—to not get cozy, not play it safe, not be culturally dominant, but to be faithful. To resist the pressure to blend in or win at the world’s game. To live like citizens of another Kingdom, here and now.
Think about it. if Jesus’ Kingdom comes like yeast in dough, is found like treasure buried in a field, seems insignificant like a mustard seed in the dirt—then maybe our calling isn’t to capitulate, but to cultivate. Not to dominate, but to embody. Not to grasp for power, but to quietly and courageously live the weird revolution of love demonstrated to us first by our King.
The post ¡Viva la revolución! …of Weirdness! appeared first on Grassroots Church.
Rather than a blog post this week, I did a video! It’s 9:30 long but it’s a really important topic and worth all of us paying attention to it. Please watch and leave your comments below!
PS – For those interested in reading the full article referenced in the video, check it out here: The Anti-Social Century (it is WELL worth the read!)
The post Pushing Against the Anti-Social Century appeared first on Grassroots Church.
So it’s Holy Week, the long walk to the cross begins. I know Holy Week is a key time for us to consider just who the person of Jesus, and thus the character of God, truly is. And let me tell you, I am so grateful for that. The cross, first off, speaks of Jesus’ profound mercy and compassion, while the Resurrection boldly proclaims his power over all things – including Death itself. It’s such a beautiful story. Yet, Holy Week also reminds us that this is a story with real-world stakes. A story about how our theology and beliefs and convictions, when wielded carelessly or self-righteously, can crush the very people it claims to save.
Let’s not forget: Jesus didn’t die because no one believed in God. He died because people held certain beliefs about God that didn’t align with what Jesus revealed him to be.
The cross wasn’t merely the result of political fear, though it certainly included that. Rather, when we step back and look at the bigger picture of all that transpired that week, and particularly among the Sanhedrin and religious leaders who brought the accusations against Jesus forward, it’s abundantly clear that the cross was the outcome of theological certainty—dudes convinced they were defending holiness, protecting orthodoxy, upholding truth. And wait a sec – they did all of this defending through the justification found in their own scriptures. But by doing so, they condemned the Truth in the flesh, unaware.
2000 years on, this should still give us pause.
Think about it. What we believe—about God, about who’s in and who’s out, about marriage, sex, right and wrong—doesn’t just shape how we live, but in particular, it shapes how we treat others. The reality is, if we’re not careful, our theology can be the very thing that wounds or excludes, even when we think we’re absolutely convinced—as the religious leaders accusing Jesus were—that we are acting out of faithfulness.
Holy Week reminds us of so many important things but one thing that can easily be overlooked as we join in the throngs of Christians who are annoyed at the self-righteous indignation of Jesus’ accusers is that our theology is never just theoretical. It will always have real-world implications. Our theology shows up in systems, in decisions, in relationships. All with the power to heal or to harm. To liberate or to crush. To bring life…. or to kill.
So maybe the invitation this week is to take a concerted look at our beliefs, our theology, our understanding of who Jesus is that we claim to follow—not just in our heads, but in our lives. Do our beliefs make room for mercy? Are they reflecting the heart and desire of Jesus, or more about protecting us from discomfort? Do they draw people in or push them away? A good place to start, at least for myself, has been to reflect on this statement I shared this past Sunday on who I believe Jesus truly is. Read this, meditate on it and see if this is the same Jesus you love and claim to follow – and if so, does your interactions with the world around you reflect this Christology (a theology of Christ)?
We believe Jesus is the clearest and fullest revelation of God, and that the cross is the ultimate expression of his character. His cruciform love is marked by self-giving, nonviolence and radical mercy. Through a love rooted in grace & compassion, enemies become neighbours, the outcast is welcomed and the broken are restored. As the Servant King, Jesus lived an others-centred, humble life, revealing a kingdom built on love and inclusion. We are called to be a community shaped by that same love.
Once more: ask yourself how does your theology lend to the healing and restoration of both you and those around you? Be ruthlessly honest in how you answer this.
Let’s be careful. Not timid or afraid to act on conviction… but humble in doing so, keeping in mind it was the sincere religious conviction that put the Son of Man on a cross.
What we believe matters far beyond some esoteric theoretical realm. It matters for the real world and it will always have real world consequences. Holy Week will not let us look away from that.
See you Friday at 6:30 as we remember the cross up close.
The post Holy Week: When Our Convictions Bring Death appeared first on Grassroots Church.
There’s no shortage of things to get us down these days—and with good reason. I feel like I keep coming back to this write-up schtick every week, but here we are. You know the routine: we’re bombarded with headlines that range from unsettling to downright frustrating and discouraging. South of the border, political action surrounding immigrants and tariffs and health care continue to drop jaws on the daily and all that noise has spilled across the border and into our context as we anticipate a federal election with bated breath. Global tensions continue to mount, with wars and conflicts reminding us how seemingly elusive peace has become in our times. The ongoing war in Ukraine, now stretching into its third year, is one of those heart-wrenching reminders. The despair is real and pressing in more every day.
And yet—this week, I saw something that changed the air around me.
On Monday I met with two local volunteers who’ve been quietly, faithfully helping Ukrainian newcomers resettle in our city. Over the past three years, they’ve helped with everything from navigating housing applications and registering kids for school, to figuring out transit routes and practicing English conversation. But more than that, they’ve simply been showing up. They’ve brought coffees mid-week. They’ve helped folks furnish their apartments. They drive them around the city to show them our sights and sounds. They regularly take the time to sit down, listen, and just be present. No reward. No fanfare. Just care.
It was weird but I walked away from that meeting lighter than I’d felt in days. Seriously. Obviously the world hadn’t changed in that hour, but my perspective sure did—at least for a bit. Their involvement and serving hearts reminded me that even in a world that can feel harsh and exhausting, goodness is breaking through. I’ve probably shared this before and it’s almost become a cliché now, but I think of Fred Rogers’ famous words: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” This week, I found them. And it was actually life-giving and despair-dissipating.
I should tell you the reason I met with these volunteers, which, if you’ve been feeling the despair lately, could be some really good news for you. As many of you who are on the Neighbour 2 Neighbour network know, since the fall, we’ve been sending out sporadic requests for help when new families come and are in need of a lift from the airport or household goods or winter clothes, etc. This is all via the Grassroots Response to the Ukrainian Crisis organization out of Waterloo who we’ve been working with. You all have stepped up something fierce! The local volunteers reached out to me because their own capacity is limited and they’ve been stretched thin as of late. They’re in need of folks like us who might have an hour or so a month to spare. I figure if we had 4–5 people in our community each willing to give an hour a month, it would be once a week that we could connect with some of these families. That’s really not that bad!
What would it look like? Could be anything from helping them practice English, taking them on a walk through their new neighbourhood, showing where to find groceries, or just bringing them a coffee and checking in with a smile. We’ve already been doing some of this as a community, and so now’s the chance to lean in more intentionally.
As I think about this opportunity, I’m reminded of what we’ve been talking about on Sundays in terms of our faith costing us something – this whole idea of dying to self, etc. Serving others will cost us something – whether it’s our own agendas, our own wants and desires, our own needs. Whatever. It will cost you – trust me. That said, we rarely hear someone complain about the “cost” in hindsight. This is because the reward inevitably outweighs any cost to self that is incurred. No doubt, this is what Jesus was getting at when he said “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it.” To lose our life is to find true life in Jesus. Die to self and experience the joy of life in the way of Jesus.
So listen, without guilt tripping or any such nonsense, if you’ve been feeling the weight of the world these days—if your social media or newsfeed has worn you down or you’ve found yourself in a bit of a fog of despair—maybe this is a small action that will help clear the clouds for you. Maybe stepping up in this capacity – even just once a month for now – will prove to be the path that’ll lead to the hopeful disposition you’re longing for these days. Again, no guilt here. I get that many of us are not able to commit to this for a myriad of legitimate reasons. That’s fine. But if the Spirit’s prompting you to help in some capacity here, I’m confident you’ll be glad you did.
If you are interested in helping out, even just to explore what it might look like, let me know. Let’s be the kind of community that not only looks for the helpers—but becomes them.
The post A Breath of Goodness in a Cloud of Despair appeared first on Grassroots Church.
I don’t know about you but the last few weeks of Sunday morning teachings have been received as a bit of a punch in the gut. This idea of moving from admiring Jesus to the seemingly impossible task of following him – even to death. And then last week, we leaned into a truth that’s as challenging as it is liberating: the cross doesn’t invite our applause—it demands our participation. The way to bending our knee to such radical participation is only through the hard road of discipleship and taking those moments of life to act as catalysts toward our transformation.
Kierkegaard said, “The admirer never makes any true sacrifices. He always plays it safe.” That line hits hard because admiration actually feels spiritual. It feels like… something, which is better than nothing. This is at least one reason we can get stuck there I think. But admiration never costs us anything. As we said a few weeks back, it allows us to stay comfortably close to Jesus without being changed by Him. It keeps us inspired without ever becoming inconvenienced.
We all know Jesus isn’t looking for admirers. He’s not interested in being liked, quoted, or applauded. He calls followers. And following requires movement—real, daily steps that lead us away from comfort and toward transformation, which is what we chatted about this past Sunday. We said discipleship doesn’t usually look like big, dramatic leaps. It often looks like small, faithful steps: choosing patience with your kids when you’re running on empty, choosing truth in a room full of compromise, opting not to cut corners on taxes when “everyone else in the business does it this way,” and so on. I know you have a million little examples that offer choices for how to respond. We all do. These moments don’t seem like much at first, but over time, they shape us. They deepen us. They form Christlikeness in us. This is the long walk of discipleship.
Bonhoeffer, in The Cost of Discipleship, puts it even more bluntly: “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” That’s strong language. But remember, this is not about punishment—it’s about transformation. It’s a death to self, to ego, to entitlement. It’s making room for new life—the kind of life that actually looks like Jesus. Again, not instant. Not this moment. But over time in this long walk of discipleship we’re on.
Discipleship is a grind because it’s a long obedience in the same direction. It all sounds a bit new age-y, perhaps, but really this is about a journey of “becoming.” And in a culture that chases instant gratification, that kind of daily faithfulness is both radical and rare. Boy, do I ever need to hear this word. Maybe you do, too.
So maybe the question we need to keep asking ourselves isn’t just, “Do I believe in Jesus?” but “Am I following Him—really?” Am I taking this long walk of discipleship that, I trust, will transform me from being an admirer to becoming a disciple? And if not, what small, intentional step can I take today that would start this journey?
Because the cross isn’t just a symbol to be revered—it’s a path to be walked. One step, one decision, one surrendered moment at a time.
Love you church fam!
Pastor Steve
The post The Long Walk of Discipleship appeared first on Grassroots Church.
Remember elementary school math problems like this? You either rub your hands together, excited to dive in and solve the equation or you look at this and your eyes gloss over…. or your heart races and you begin to twitch at the prospect of having to solve this. Personally, as an adult, I find these questions humbling because, ugh, where do I even begin? Fortunately, that question is answered simply enough using the order of operations acronym – BEDMAS (Brackets, Exponents, Division, Multiplication, Addition, Subtraction). This means that starting from left to right, you start with the brackets and then do the exponents, etc. Having a system like BEDMAS to direct how we tackle math equations makes the equation far less intimidating and ensures that we come away with the same answer which, in this case, happens to be 82. ….correct? I mean, for those math-inclined, please do the question and confirm if I got it right.
Why am I talking about math order of operations this week? Because there’s a metaphor there, obviously ! Something that keeps coming up in this role, I’m finding, is just this plethora of views of the nature and character of God that emerge from all of us reading the same Bible. Some perspectives of God rely on punitive/retributive traits to create a dominant understanding of God while others might see his mercy and grace as the main means of forming a picture of God’s character. It can all be a bit overwhelming and confusing and anyone who says it’s really not that hard is not reading the same Bible I’m reading. There’s a reason for this, of course. For one, although the Bible tells one continued story of the people of God and their relationship with the Divine, it does not do so univocally. That is, there are a myriad of voices that, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, have sought to understand and communicate who this God is and what he’s like. Each comes with their own flavour, their own emphasis, their own perspective, etc. As such, different views of God can emerge from the text and it can be challenging to make heads or tails of it all.
One quick example to make my point. David in the Psalms frequently mentions God being far from him, hiding himself in times of trouble and ignoring his pleas for help (Ps. 10:1; 13:1-2; 42:9; 69:1-3, etc.). Elsewhere, he proclaims God’s faithfulness and his confidence of his presence (Ps. 23:4, 34:18, 145:18, etc.). Can we reasonably say that the latter is true but not the former? I would emphatically say yes, of course, but how can I say so with confidence? What’s my rationale for making this assertion about the proximity of God and his posture toward us?
Thankfully, there is an “order of operations” similar to BEDMAS that we can use that maybe, possibly, hopefully, can help at least get us all more or less on the same page. We begin with the conviction that Jesus is the perfect revelation of the Father (John 1:1, John 1:14, John 1:18, John 14:9-11, Colossians 1:15, Colossians 2:9, Hebrews 1:1-3, 2 Corinthians 4:4, Philippians 2:6, 1 Timothy 3:16, 1 John 5:20) which means any ideas we form of God have to at the very least look like Jesus. From here, we move out and ask “What was Jesus like?” and although there are varied descriptions and angles one could take to address this, the most prominent picture is that of grace, mercy and compassion, exemplified throughout his ministry over and over again toward the sick, vulnerable, sinners, etc. (Matt. 9:36, Mark 1:40-41, Luke 7:13-15, John 8:10-11, Matt. 14:14, Matt. 15:32, Mark 6:34, Luke 10:33, Matt. 20:34, Mark 8:2-3, Luke 19:41-42, Matt. 11:28-30, Matt. 18:21-22, Luke 23:34, John 11:33-35, Matt. 8:2-3, Mark 5:19, Matt. 12:20, Luke 15:20, Matt. 9:2, among dozens of other passages) but most acutely and profoundly it is represented at the cross where Jesus pours out his mercy and compassion by dying for us and in the process forgiving those who are literally in the process of crucifying him (Luke 23:34). We call this wild, counterintuitive form of love cruciform love (cruciform just means “cross-shaped”). If clarity is still needed, we would then move out from here to the actual teachings of Jesus and, I might suggest, beginning first with the Sermon on the Mount, as that seems to really get at what values Jesus esteemed highest and embodied himself. Hopefully at this point we would begin to form a view of who God is. So, if we were to give this an acronym like BEDMAS to help us remember, we could try something like…. JCLSMT: Jesus –> Cruciform Love –> Sermon on the Mount –> Teachings. It just kind of rolls of the tongue doesn’t it? Okay, fine, I’m open to suggestions for making this more memorable.
So there you have it. Although, to some degree I don’t know that we can ever come to a perfect consensus in how we understand God (that’s an ambitious pursuit), I do think this JCLSMT order of operations can help us narrow our interpretive scope and lead us to a general consensus on who God is and what he’s like.
We’ll be talking more about this on Sunday! I hope you’ll join us in person at 10am. See ya then!
The post BEDMAS or Bust: How Do We Know What God’s Like appeared first on Grassroots Church.
So last week we received our first Neighbour2Neighbour (N2N) request. An individual in our community asked for a hand with some gardening. Within minutes, some amazing human in our community responded and said they could help meet the need. And so they did. And the need was met. And it’s really that simple! Cool right?
Perhaps this is the first time you’re hearing of this or perhaps you’ve got a few more questions. Here are a few questions that you might have:
- Why did we start this ministry anyway? From a purely practical standpoint, it comes down to streamlined communication. Over the years, all sorts of needs arise that oftentimes fall through the cracks because the right person(s) didn’t happen to hear of it in time. N2N at its most basic is simply a tool for ensuring anyone that wants to know about needs that exist, can know. At the same time, people often are unsure of who they can speak to should a need in their neighbourhood or their own lives arise. Now they can connect via N2N and let the network handle the rest.
- What happens if a need isn’t responded to in a timely fashion? The goal of N2N is awareness. Once people become aware of a need, they can then determine if they can meet the need. The larger our N2N network becomes, the higher the chances of a need being met becomes. However, it’s important that anyone who submits a request understands that there is a possibility the need might NOT be met. If that’s the case, we can try again in a few days time.
- What kinds of needs could I submit? A few examples might include making a dump run, gardening help, a ride to an appointment, fix some stairs, pick-up/return a library book, grab some groceries, stack some wood for winter, build a house, you name it. It is NOT a place to request financial assistance or help with political efforts of any form.
- Couldn’t someone take advantage of this? Yes, unfortunately. We’re hoping that people won’t, of course, but we can’t guarantee it. It’s part of the messiness of ministry and is something that we want to be paying attention to along the way. This will be up to the coordinator (i.e. first point of contact for N2N requests) to determine if someone is taking advantage of the program.
- Is this ministry? 100%. Oftentimes we talk about being the hands and feet of Jesus in our community in order to show God’s love and the hope within us. I’m not sure if there is a more on-the-nose way of showing this than using our hands and feet to lend a hand to those in need. It’s beautiful!
- How will I know if a need has been met? All communications will come into a central “hub” and then be sent out to the larger network. So if someone indicates they can meet a need, they’ll inform the central hub (i.e. the coordinator) who will in turn send word to the rest of the network that the need has been taken care of.
- How can I sign up to be a part of this? I thought you’d never ask! You can send an email to n2n@grassroots.churchor text 1-833-285-5368 (Pro tip: add this # to your contacts as “Neighbour to Neighbour”) and let us know you want to be a part of this! You can also fill out a form at the back of the church on Sunday morning and put it in the offering box.
To date, we’ve got 25 members of our community signed up to be a part of this network, which is fantastic but I’d love to see even more of you join because, as noted above, the more people who are part of this network, the better the chance of a need being met. Please keep in mind that this fall we are treating this as a pilot project which means we will be tweaking things as we go along and making adjustments as need be.
If you have any other questions, send an email to n2n@grassroots.church or find me after the service one of these days. Also, be sure to check out grassroots.church/n2n.
The post An FAQ on the NEW Neighbour 2 Neighbour Ministry appeared first on Grassroots Church.
We say we start church at “10ish.” And honestly, I like this. I like the laid back way of getting things going around 10:10-10:15. It feels relaxed and casual, which is definitely the vibe we are trying to foster on Sunday mornings. And I know you like it, too, because the sanctuary is relatively empty at 9:57. People start to trickle in after 10 and we hit critical mass at about 10:10 typically, which is about the time we begin our announcements. A few more folks will arrive right up until about 10:30, usually. On one hand, this is all fine and dandy if everyone in the community is on the same wave length and understands the very relaxed start time of our Sunday morning services.
And here, my friends, lies the rub.
Not everyone is on the same wavelength. I’m thinking, in particular, of new people visiting or exploring our community for the first time. And who could possibly fault them? We advertise for 10am start and so guess when these people show up to church? Yeeeeeeah…. ~9:55. Which is normal and totally reasonable. And time after time they’ll ask me, “Uh oh… did we get the start time wrong for this service?” to which I always respond, “Well, see, it’s more like 10ish start time… people will start to come in over the next 10-15 minutes.” For most people it’s not a big deal but if you’re exploring church for the first time or considering coming back to church after a long time away, it can be nerve-wracking to sit there in the chairs all alone, waiting for things to get started.
So I think we need to change this for the sake of anyone new who’s considering Grassroots (AND for the sake of those who roll their eyes at our “10ish” start time and are hoping for a more punctual start. I see you, Bill and Wendy ). So here’s what I propose we begin to do – beginning this Sunday, instead of a 10:10 actual start, let’s shave 5 minutes off and begin at 10:05. And then the following week, we shave another 5 minutes and actually start at 10:00am sharp. And then we carry on as best we can with a 10am sharp start. It’s ambitious, I know. Maybe too ambitious, in fact. No worries – we might have to adjust this along the way but I believe our goal should for sure be to eventually, consistently, regularly, predictably actually start our services at 10am. Coolio?! Coolio.
You got this, church fam! I’ll see you Sunday. 10:05 sharp.
The post We’ve Got a Punctuality Problem on our Hands, People! appeared first on Grassroots Church.
These are some days of celebration for me as of late! This week Rhonda and I celebrated 20 years of marriage, which, when I was a kid and my parents did the same, I remember thinking they were ancient. This means, I guess, that I’m now firmly on the trajectory toward becoming “ancient” if you were to ask my kids. Sigh. And in other celebratory news, this week coming will be my official 1 year anniversary as the pastor at Grassroots! And what a WILD ride it has been! ….and that’s saying something because I’ve ridden the Leviathan at Canada’s Wonderland!
But in all seriousness, these past 12 months have been some of the most fulfilling and meaningful of my “ancient” life thus far. However, that’s not to say they haven’t had difficulties. In fact, this week I came across this X post from Rich Villodas, asking pastors what the most challenging aspect of pastoring is today. The responses were varied and, of course with an audience largely in the States, there was no surprise that the majority listed the current confounding of politics with the Church as being the most challenging aspect. That said, as I read the responses from others, I found myself agreeing with a number of them – some with a slight nod and others with an emphatic “yup!”
In a spirit of vulnerability and transparency with the intent of conveying where my heart is at as your pastor (and at the risk of coming across as a Negative Nelly (please don’t conclude this!)) and what the challenges are that both myself and maybe we as individuals and a community are facing, I thought I would share some of the responses that aligned with my own experience as I round the bend on this first year of pastoring at Grassroots. These are for all of us to ruminate on and to spend some time praying about as we enter the fall and beyond because I suspect that even though we play different roles in this church, we might all relate to some of these at least on some level. So without further adieu, here, in no particular order, are a few verbatim responses from pastors across the Internet that have also rung true for me at various points in this first season of pastoring:
- “My own hardness of heart”
- “People leaving who you’ve invested much into”
- “Understanding the multiple ways people view the Bible”
- “The internet”
- “As a pastor of a small church, remaining faithful and bringing the same energy, devotion, and passion regardless of who shows up. Some Sundays we have 8 people. Some we have 30. Its a challenge to keep practices, rhythms, and energy not knowing who and how many will show up.”
- “Prioritizing enough space for your soul — to live and lead from a quiet mind.”
- “Helping people (and myself) die to self. The protection of comforts and preferences over surrendered life to Jesus and others is exhausting.”
- “Accepting that you can’t please everyone and there will be those who misunderstand you and be your adversary.”
- “A lack of awareness (me included at times) of how the everything is forming us into great Christlikeness or away from it.”
- “The fact that Christian community is such a minority part of most Christian’s schedules. We’re trying to disciple people who are already being discipled by 2 or 3 other entities.”
- “Not being concerned about attendance but being concerned about attendance.”
- “People having other priorities than their spiritual growth. Also sometimes feeling like you have to hit one out of the park sermon-wise each time. Everyone wants to have the spiritual highs without putting in the effort to cultivate a relationship with God”
There you have it. This is not an exhaustive list of course because it’s not my list, per se, but it gives a good idea of where I’m at. Where do we go from here? Well, I think the first thing is to have awareness and then to commit to praying through these challenges regularly. I ask that you’d do this for my own sake but also for our collective sake, moving forward.
With all of this said let me not close on a downer because I would be absolutely remiss if I did not also declare just how truly grateful I am for this gracious and accepting community I get the honour of pastoring. I could not imagine stepping into this position with any other community and I can’t begin to say how much I’ve appreciated the flexibility, acceptance, patience and perhaps most of all, the encouragement from this community. I get choked up (big surprise!) every time I think of our church family and all that it gifts me and each other with. Truly. So thank you, Grassroots, for giving me (us!) such a fantastic first year here! And with that, let’s keep going, serving Jesus and being his willing hands and feet as he builds his Kingdom in our midst.
Amen.
The post I’ve Pastored for 1 Year. Here’s Where I’m At… appeared first on Grassroots Church.
Hi friends! Our family is back from holidays, rested (ha!) and ready for serving this beautiful community the rest of the summer. So if you missed it, last week we held an inspiring service at Trowbridge Falls, immersing 4 of our community members into the waters of baptism. It was seriously wonderful and if you missed it, I’m really sorry! Baptisms are maybe my favourite part of being a pastor I think. The whole thing is just packed with meaning and significance but underlying all of it is blissful celebration. Because we’re celebrating peoples’ intentional move toward trusting and walking in the way of Jesus. And if you think about it, the more people that do this faithfully in the world, the more hope and healing there is being poured out in the world and if that’s not a cause for celebration I’m not sure what is.
So I spoke a little bit but we didn’t record it so let me offer 2 things that I mentioned. I first provided a parable I recently heard that speaks to the tendency many of us have when it comes to baptism and other milestone events in the Christian life. I shared that a young couple were getting married and the bride had spent SO much time preparing for the wedding and ensuring every detail of the event was perfect but then as soon as it was all said and done she kissed her husband good night and then went home and slept alone in her parents’ home. To make a longish story short, the idea was that we tend to put a lot of stock into events but can often forget what the event points to. In the case of the story, it’s the marriage. What’s the point of a wedding if you’re not going to have a marriage that follows? And in the case of baptism, it’s the relationship and consequent life of faithfulness in pursuit and in step with Jesus. Baptism is a beautiful and meaningful event but it only exists as a means of welcoming the individual to a life of commitment to Jesus, his community, and the life he offers through others-oriented, self-sacrificial love.
And then the second thing I noted was that I challenged our community to take seriously the responsibility of helping these young people in their faith journeys. That means through encouragement and by offering grace in the slip ups and struggles of life, but also, and perhaps more importantly, through setting an example of what Jesus-living looks like in our own day to day lives. As iron sharpens iron, right? And here’s the thing: this isn’t just for the newly baptized but it’s for all of us. This is the responsibility–and the gift–we have to offer one another in the Church and it’s not something to be taken lightly. Being a member of a church, any church really, is to assume a role toward mutually edifying and encouraging one another on toward faithful living every single day. And obviously, this means beyond just Sunday mornings. It means doing life together, in pursuit of becoming like Jesus. Some days we’ll soar and some days, frankly, we’ll tank, which is why we need each other! The baptism ceremony, then, serves as a great opportunity to remind us of this role and responsibility that we play in each other’s lives. So again, if you missed this past Sunday, consider yourselves reminded of what role you get to play in Christian community for one another!
The post Baptisms Matter for the Rest of Us, Too! appeared first on Grassroots Church.
We’re having an outdoor service at Trowbridge Falls on July 21st and, as is tradition in our community, if someone is looking to be baptized, we’ll make that the focus of our morning together. Baptism is a bit of an odd thing to our modern sentiments and maybe we don’t appreciate or recognize its significance in the life of the Christian. Maybe we see it as a sort of “nice to do” rather than any sort of prerequisite for life in Jesus. And to be fair, Jesus will never reject us if we don’t get baptized but this is not to downplay the importance of this sacred act.
Earlier this week I watched an interview with author Meghan Good on eschatology (the study of “end times” or our ultimate destiny, etc.) and there was a fascinating part on eternal life that stood out to me. We tend to think of eternal life as what happens after death; that we live a life of flesh and blood here on earth either following Jesus or not and then we die and our soul goes on for eternity either with Jesus…. or not. There are all sorts of things to dissect in that particular narrative, but for many of us, holding this perspective assumes that the “great transition” is obviously marked by death. That death would be the moment that separates us from this life to eternal life.
Good challenges this idea, suggesting that, for the Christian, it is in fact BAPTISM that marks the great transition. Jesus spoke of eternal life as far more than just where we go after we die and in fact more as a way of life that begins when we give our lives to Jesus and moves into eternity. Think of this notion of the “Kingdom of God” that he always spoke of – that as Jesus followers we are citizens of a different Kingdom, a different way of living that seeks the good of others first, that loves selflessly, that resists violence and coercion, that seeks restoration and healing in all spheres of life and reality, etc. Living in this way is to literally experience “eternal life” right now. This is the beginning of what will one day be the reality of all things, everywhere. I like how the Bible Project suggests that Jesus and his followers are to bring about “little pockets of heaven” in all the spheres of our lives by way of Kingdom-like living everywhere. That is, Christians, when we’re at our best embodying this Kingdom of God ethic, offer a taste of what’s to come. (Admittedly, we fail at this way too often which is why so many have stopped looking to the Church for any answers or hope in the here and now…. but I digress.)
And so, if this is eternal life, then it would follow, suggests Good, that baptism, and not death, is really where the great transition begins: “Baptism is the moment we die and leave behind the old self and are resurrected and reborn into this new life” she notes. Baptism is the point where we transfer our citizenship, where we make a pledge of allegiance to this King and its Kingdom, to serve within this new way of living and to be ambassadors of this Kingdom to the rest of the world. It’s the point, in theory, where everything changes.
This is why baptism matters. Yes, on one level, it is symbolic and no, I don’t believe it has any direct bearing on your “salvation,” per se, but there is a reason it has been a staple sacrament of the Church since inception and also a direct command from Jesus himself (Mark 16:16). Baptism not only serves as an act of obedience but also as a meaning-filled display that signifies a death to our old self through submersion and a resurrection to eternal life at resurfacing. What’s more, all of this takes place in the presence of a community of other Kingdom citizens who get to witness this beautiful moment of eternal life unfold and are privileged to come alongside to support and encourage the newly baptized in their walking into the fullness of eternal life. Honestly, when I step back and consider how much beauty and significance is caught up in the act of baptism, I get choked up (no surprises!) and am once more filled with hope for the ongoing work of restoration being done in our midst.
Let me leave you with this: have you or your loved ones been baptized? If not, I’d be honoured to lead you into this. Get in touch with me steve.b@grassroots.church soon and let’s start chatting about it over coffee!
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If you missed this past Sunday’s message, I closed off the series on Revealing the Jesus of the Centre by considering the means in which we take all of these great, beautiful, inspiring truths we’ve been learning about who Jesus is and have them move from a bunch of facts we hold in our heads toward something that we hold in our hearts that changes us, transforms us, does something to us toward inhabiting these same traits of Jesus ourselves.
I noted that on one level, the mechanics of transformation will always be a beautiful mystery. That being transformed into the likeness of Jesus is not some empirical, step-by-step formula to simply be followed and “arrived at.” Yet at the same time, there are practices and perspectives for us to hold that would certainly lend us to being changed and I shared 3 of them on Sunday: 1. Lean into God’s unconditional love because any time we realize we are loved, whether by a human or by our Creator, something tends to change within us; 2. Look to the Spirit, because the reminder of this Divine love is a work of the Spirit and ultimately any transformation is a work of the Spirit; and 3. Put it into practice, because if we begin trying to live as Jesus lived in our day to day interactions–monitoring our hearts in the process–I think it’s like that we’ll begin to notice something change within us over time.
There are certainly a number of other observations that make the likelihood of being forever changed by the person of Jesus a likely potential after encountering his Truth, and indeed entire volumes of work have been written toward this so to assume we can get it all in a sermon or article is, well, ambitious. But I did have one other observation I wanted to add to the conversation that I think has potential for us being open to change.
I think again about my relationship with my wife and how in order for it to move from merely knowledge about her to relationship with her, there was this moment in which I had to let down my guard. And to be fair it wasn’t really a moment. It was more a posture that has been maintained now for 20 years. At the heart of every relationship that matters to us, every relationship that we care deeply about, there is a desire for to be KNOWN by the other person. For that other person to not just know facts about us, but for us to know them for who they are. And when Rhonda knows me – when she knows my heart, my struggles, my joys, my inner most sense of self – then I’ve entered into something profoundly deeper than a laundry list of facts.
The only way for Rhonda to get to that part of me, though, is through a willingness on my part to be vulnerable. To allow her access. And I think there has to be some kind of parallel here in our relationship with Jesus. For us to move beyond the knowledge part of all this, in addition to leaning into love and looking to the Spirit and just practicing these traits of Jesus in our day to day lives, there needs to be a posture of vulnerability that reveals our true selves, including our weaknesses and insecurities and all the things we’re ashamed of. A vulnerability that is raw. Honest. Sometimes even ugly. But ultimately the real us.
What does that look like? I think it can be any number of things but one way of framing vulnerability before God is through confession. So it might look like confessing to Jesus that it’s not that I can’t love my enemies, it’s that I straight up don’t even want to love my enemies. Or maybe, in a profoundly real and humbling way, telling him, “Jesus I don’t care for the “least of these” because, frankly, I think I’m better than the poor and those on the fringes.” Or “I hate that you love everyone, Jesus. I hate that your love is not limited to the same people >I< know deserve it.” However it looks, whatever it’s revealed as, it all boils down to the same thing: it’s a recognition that we prefer to elevate ourselves and our ways over Jesus and his Way.
In order for us to be known by our partners/spouses/other humans that matter deeply to us, the only way is through a willingness to open our deepest selves to them, flaws and all. How much more so the God of the universe who already knows the darkest corners of our hearts and is merely waiting for us to acknowledge it and stop deceiving ourselves? So would you mind adding this one to the list as a 4th observation/practice/perspective to be held in our quest for knowledge to become transformative?
The post From Head to Heart: What’s Needed to be Known appeared first on Grassroots Church.
This past Sunday we looked at an aspect of the character and nature of Jesus that the Church has, as a whole, really seemed to have passed over throughout history: Jesus’ non-violence. This is not entirely true – there are pockets of movements over the past few hundred years that would challenge this assertion, but it does seem that overall, the Church has failed to emphasize the non-violent nature of Jesus. This, despite the fact that the overall picture presented of Jesus in the New Testament is that not only did he teach an ethic of non-violence but he embodied it as well, most notably at the cross. If this is so, we asked the question why hasn’t the Church done a better job at promoting non-violence and practicing non-violence?
One reason I noted but did not dive deep into was that the Bible, when read through a particular lens, can present a confusing portrait of Jesus that on one page suggests he’s all about non-violent resistance and on another suggests he not only condones it but even participates in it. For instance, we read about Jesus flipping tables and driving out the money changers from the Temple and we might, reasonably, conclude that this seems pretty violent. And if Jesus is the perfect revelation of the Father, i.e. the God of the Old Testament, then we’ve got a lot of work to do to make the Old Testament God fit in with the non-violent nature of Jesus. And what about the time Jesus says “I did not come to bring peace but a sword” (Matt. 10:34)? Not to mention Revelation, where Jesus apparently comes riding on a horse with a sword in his mouth, ready to slaughter everyone. Yikes.
So what do we do with all of this? It’s pretty important that as Christians who take the scriptures seriously, we seek to understand what is going on. I thought this week I’d provide a brief thought or two and some resources for diving deeper into sifting through this if it happens to be something of interest to you.
First thing to establish is that we always begin with the overall picture of Jesus and then we work out from here. As demonstrated on Sunday, both the majority of his teachings and his own life—and especially His death—demonstrate Jesus did in fact advocate for non-violent resistance and peacemaking. That means, for example, if we take a passage like Luke 22 where Jesus tells his disciples to sell their cloak and buy a sword, we must ask if there’s something else going on here. The surface level reading of this does suggest, “Hey, Jesus is saying let’s get ready for a fight because he’s telling his disciples to bear arms.” But again, if his enemy-love teaching holds weight, then this just simply can’t mean that. …And actually, it doesn’t.
Here’s the passage:
“He said to them, ‘When I sent you out without a purse, bag, or sandals, did you lack anything?’ They said, ‘No, not a thing.’ He said to them, ‘But now, the one who has a purse must take it, and likewise a bag. And the one who has no sword must sell his cloak and buy one. For I tell you, this scripture must be fulfilled in me, “And he was counted among the lawless”; and indeed what is written about me is being fulfilled.’ They said, ‘Lord, look, here are two swords.’ He replied, ‘It is enough.’”
The full context of Luke 22 is that this conversation happens after the Last Supper, right before Jesus is about to be arrested. Jesus instructs them to take a sword not so that they can defend themselves or have a weapon for their assault on the Empire. Rather, Jesus instructs this in order to fulfill the prophecy: “And he was counted among the lawless” found in Isaiah 53. In other words, in order for the arrest to happen, the Romans needed to have reasonable suspicion that a revolt was being planned. And if his disciples had swords, that would substantiate the rationale for the arrest. Next, we see the disciples present 2 swords and Jesus’ response confirms this understanding of the passage: “It is enough.” If Jesus meant for the disciples to bear arms and actually revolt or resist the Romans, 2 swords would hardly be enough. But if it his plan is just to have enough justification for an arrest, then 2 swords is perfect.
We further know this reading is a reliable interpretation because in the Garden, when Peter, a bit dim-witted if we’re being honest, slices off an ear of a servant, Jesus rebukes him and tells him that if he lives by the sword he’ll die by it and then reaches out and heals the servant’s ear. That is, he’s reinforcing the truth that what’s about to happen has nothing to do with swords or violence on his part. This powerful moment serves as a “cherry-on-top” regarding the question of whether Jesus was actually telling his disciples to bear arms or not.
I share this particular rationale and understanding of this passage because in my experience and interactions, I’ve heard it often used as a “gotcha” passage to push against the non-violent nature of Jesus and his kingdom. The thing is, we can read each of these tricky passages and arrive at a similar conclusion. Are they all as simple and straightforward? Unfortunately, not. I wish it were just a simple clarification but the truth is, some passages prove difficult and remain mysterious. That said, because I hold to the overall story of the Bible as presenting Jesus to be non-violent, I tend to conclude that the rationales provided for these clobber passages do hold water… but hey, you can disagree with this and I am okay with that!
And for those interested, here is non-exhaustive list of resources to help make sense of some of the other challenging verses/passages that seem to challenge the non-violent nature of Jesus. If this is something you want to research and get to the bottom of, I recommend starting with this article by Ron Snider called, “Why do most Christians reject Pacifism?” and then dive deeper on each of these “problem” passages:
- Jesus flipping Tables (found in all 4 gospels) – Does Jesus’ “Temple Tantrum” Negate Pacifism and Nonviolence? By Michael Pahl; The Nonviolent Revolutionary by John Dear
- “I did not come to bring Peace but a Sword” – Jesus Did not Come to bring a Sword, but Peace by C.B. Robertson; What Jesus Meant when He Said, “I didn’t Come to Bring a Peace, but a Sword” By Benjamin Corey
- Revelation’s violent portrayal of Jesus – Upside-Down Apocalypse by Jeremy Duncan; Revelation as a Peace Book by Ted Grimsrud; Will Jesus Wage a Literal War According to Revelation? By Greg Boyd
And finally (and most contentiously perhaps), here are a few different attempts to reconcile the God of violence in the Old Testament with the non-violent Jesus of the New Testament. As a caveat, we don’t have to agree here on which “take” is the right one but I’m sharing a few of these to show you the various avenues of explaining how this “problem” is accounted for through modern scholarship:
- Old Testament Violence – Jesus and Violent Old Testament Passages Jesus Collective podcast with Greg Boyd; “God lets his Children Tell the Story”: An Angle on God’s Violence in the Old Testament” with Pete Enns; Jericho and Canaanite Genocide sermon by Zach W. Lambert; Disarming Scripture by Derek Flood; Of God and Genocide by Brian Zahnd. And for a more conventional take, check out Thinking through Old Testament Violence with Andrew Judd at The Gospel Coalition.
Well, there you have it. Now, the real challenge is that if it’s actually true and Jesus was entirely non-violent and actually wants us to be non-violent as well, then, well, it means we may need to start thinking about the implications of all this in our own lives. The truth is, for us to embody a way of living that resists violence in all its ugly forms, we’ll need the rest of our lives to sort it out… and what better time to start pondering and praying toward what this might look like than this very moment?!
The post The Bible and the Warrior Jesus appeared first on Grassroots Church.
Okay, fine, He is on your side, sort of. But not in the way you think. (Plus, I was looking for a clickbait-ey title to get you to read this and guess what? It worked!). So this past Sunday, in the 5th part on our series about Revealing the Jesus of the Centre, we asked this question about whose side Jesus was on and concluded that He is, in fact, on the side of the “least of these,” as well as those who have self-awareness to realize their own need for Jesus to save them. Being “on your side” means Jesus is for you – for your healing, for your restoration, for whatever adjective you want to add in there that means becoming the person God has made you to be. And before you think I’ve gone off the rails with this stark individualistic gospel message that Jesus just cares for YOU and wants YOUR healing and YOUR best life now or any other Joel-Osteen-esque sentiment, please understand that any work toward healing that is being done in your life is ultimately for the healing and restoration of creation itself. He wants you and I healed of the sickness of selfishness and pride because then we can become outward facing agents of reconciliation and healing in a broken and dark world.
Anyway, all that aside, I had mentioned on Sunday that Christians have this tendency to align Jesus with “their side” when it comes to political, social, theological, fill-in-the-blank issues. And, unfortunately, I didn’t have a lot of time to unpack this thought much or discuss the harm that doing so does to all of us. I had come across a devotional from Skye Jethani a while back that I think articulates brilliantly the challenges that are presented when we co-opt Jesus for our “side.”
Jethani references a story in Luke 12 when a man in the crowd asks Jesus, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.” and Jesus’ response is simply, “Man, who made me judge or arbitrator over you?” (vs. 14). Jethani asks, why wouldn’t Jesus, who possesses divine wisdom and authority, judge between the brothers? This man asks Jesus to side with him, against his brother. The man believes he was right, his brother was wrong, and Jesus was just needed as sort of a “checkmate” in the argument. That is, Jesus was intended to be used as a leverage in order to seal the deal against the brother. And Jesus, of course, refuses to do this.
Here’s what might be at the heart of the reason why, Jethani reasons, Jesus refuses to take a side:
“The impulse to employ Jesus as a weapon against those we disagree with remains common today in our personal relationships, theological debates, and politics. Declaring, “I think you’re wrong and so does Jesus!” is a defensive move that excuses me from doing the uncomfortable work of self-examination. It quickly shuts down the inconvenient possibility that I may be in error, or that my own perspective may be warped in some way. It also prevents me from empathizing with my opponent or recognizing any element of truth in his position. Simply put, if God agrees with me then I never have to change.”
I really like that reasoning. Co-opting Jesus to be on our side allows us to be off the hook from confronting the need to change at all. It removes our ability for empathy. In short, it shuts down the conversation which renders reconciliation much more difficult. And reconciliation, as we’ve been arguing all along in this series, is really at the heart of what Jesus was all about.
We’ve all faced the temptation to want Jesus to join our campaign, sanction our cause, support our position, but Jethani asks, and I wonder as well, if we’re actually seeking to be instruments of God’s will in these instances or are we merely using Jesus as a means to an end? The end being, of course, our “right-ness” and our vindication.
Something to think about this week as you interact and engage with others, be they family, friends, co-workers or even your partner!
The post God is NOT On Your Side appeared first on Grassroots Church.
Sometimes (all the times?!) my sermons can go a little too long on Sundays… and listen: I’m really, really sorry about that. I’d love to blame it on being a new pastor but anyone who’s heard me speak over the years knows I have this tendency to be long-winded (…and weepy. But I digress). I need to work on this because ain’t no one got time–nor attention span–to stay focused for that long. So here’s what I was thinking – I’m going to try to slim my Sunday sermons by taking what I don’t share there and just moving it over to the newsletter instead. That way as you meditate on the message throughout the week (Because I KNOW that everyone in our community does this… right?!) you can add a few more things to consider as well. And yeah, I should have thought of this months ago.
And so on that note, a few weeks back on this series of revealing the Jesus of the centre, I spoke on what I believe the cross reveals concerning Jesus’ fundamental disposition toward us. Part of understanding that is to understand the “ontological essence” of God which is, as we said, “love” (1 John 4:8). Michael Pahl, who was a New Testament professor to Rhonda and me way back in Bible College and is now the Executive Director of the Mennonite Church of Manitoba, asks the question “What does it mean to say that “God is love”? And here’s his response:
“God is love” means that you are beloved by God. This is your most basic identity: God’s Beloved. And this is true of each and every person, every creature, all of creation.
As I noted on Sunday, and as John 3:16 testifies, God loves the WHOLE world, not those who measure up or believe in him. All of us. There are no prerequisites to this love – Jesus doesn’t come and lay down his life for us because we believed in him or stopped sinning or obeyed him perfectly. Nope – his death on a cross precedes anything we can say or do in response to him. Do you follow Jesus? He loves you. Do you reject Jesus? Guess what? He STILL loves you! There are literally no requirements that can make God love us more or less because he can’t help but love us. And the cross, as the definition of love (1 John 3:16), means there is nothing that can be done on our behalf to earn God’s love. Pahl continues,
“God is love” means that when you are at your worst, and you know it, or when you have done your worst, and you know it, there is One who is already moving toward you, to forgive you and restore you, to make you whole.
This kind of love can be hard to wrap our heads around, let alone embrace and respond to with our lives. Yet, this is exactly what we are to do. Jesus tells us, “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you” which is to say, in the same way Jesus moves toward us with love–through a limitless supply of forgiveness and grace, with the objective of healing and restoring us from our own sin and brokenness, so, too, are we to move toward others. We are to move toward each other, even at their worst, with an acceptance and embrace and “no-matter-what-ness”; with a commitment toward forgiveness and with-ness that leads to their wholeness, healing, restoration.
All this to say, when we throw phrases around like, “God is love,” we don’t JUST affirm some paradigm/worldview about some ontological truth about the Divine nature, but far deeper and much more practically, implied in this affirmation is the desire that we, us followers of this way of Love, are to be in pursuit of loving others as He loves us in this same way. It means we not only believe this is who He is and how He loves us but also that we believe this is how we are to love others, too.
Let me just add this: While it would be so much easier to just affirm a bunch of beliefs about the nature of God and his Son, to actually love others as He loves us, well, that’s just not possible. Because although God may be ontologically love… we are not. Which is why we need the Spirit of God to empower and enable us in this pursuit of love and it’s why we need oceans of grace to keep us afloat in our oft-failed attempts to love like this.
God is love. It’s a beautiful and inspiring and even comforting sentiment to affirm, to be sure. But it will only ever remain a lovely sentiment and nothing more unless we move toward embodying the profound truth of this love, showing each other and our world what “God is love” actually looks like.
The post “God is Love” are Our Marching Orders appeared first on Grassroots Church.
You might not know this about me but my guilty pleasure is old school Garth Brooks tunes. Specifically late ’80s to mid-’90s Garth. Everything from Thunder Rolls to Ain’t Goin’ Down. My buddies and I have put to memory almost every word of every song from his debut album (1989) ’til, roughly, Sevens (1997). I jumped the Garth train right before he moved into his alter-ego Chris Gaines (though if I’m being completely honest, even that album had a few bangers).
For those unfamiliar with Garth, you’ll be forgiven (although I’m confident if you open your heart a bit you won’t be disappointed). One of the things I appreciated from a young age was how so often there’d exist this undercurrent of “theology” (for better or worse) in Garth’s music. From songs like “We Shall be Free” to “If Tomorrow Never Comes.” One of his best was “Unanswered Prayers,” a tune about a guy who runs into his old flame and reflects on how he prayed that “God would make her mine” but that prayer goes unanswered and now here he is all of these years later, happily married with the woman that he truly loves, conceding that God knew all along what was in store and he’s grateful for the way things turned out:
“Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers
Remember when you’re talkin’ to the man upstairs
And just because He doesn’t answer, doesn’t mean He don’t care
Cause some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.”
It’s a lovely sentiment to have everything wrap up nicely in our lives and if it works for you, I guess that’s great but in my experience, unanswered prayer can be a really tricky thing to deal with and can push us away from God. It’s one thing if it’s a future wife or job or passing an exam — we can maybe reconcile those “unanswered” prayers. But it gets trickier when it’s a fervent prayer about a friend’s healing that never comes or a war that doesn’t end or some unnecessary suffering that’s never relinquished.
It’s fair, and I’d say even healthy, to struggle with this because scripture has a lot to say about prayer and, particularly, prayer being answered by a good and loving God. Typically, in order to avoid disappointment with God or to avoid cognitive dissonance with our theological worldviews, we search for the rationale that makes it make sense: “God’s sovereign. He does what he wants.” or “God’s ways are beyond our ways” or “God’s got something better in store” (a la Garth) or “We need to be/do more X (whatever X is: faithful, serving, Bible reading, generous, etc.) and then he’ll answer” and so forth. We can drive ourselves mad trying to play the mental gymnastics that allow an earnest unanswered prayer make sense. And yet it’s natural to do this, I think, for people of faith to continue to seek to reconcile these things. I’m not against this and yet I don’t want to get into a theological why for unanswered prayer here either.
Lately I’ve been reading Brad Jersak’s book “A More Christlike God” and at one point he discusses the challenge of not knowing what to do with prayer that doesn’t play out according to plan. In response, Jersak was drawn to either stop praying altogether or to simply pray things that expected nothing of God because then he could avoid disappointment. Recognizing neither of these options were faithful to the way Jesus speaks of prayer, Jersak asks his friend Eugene Peterson how he deals with this problem. Peterson’s response was 2 words:
Be disappointed.
Jersak writes, “Pray for heaven to touch earth and grieve because heaven is not earth” (pg 37). That got me. In other words, the response to unanswered prayer doesn’t have to be to rationalize prayer or to avoid prayer or to make our prayers weak; it’s to continue to courageously lean in, to ask God to keep on with the work of healing and reconciliation in this world, whether big or small, and then if–and sometimes when–such requests don’t come about as we hope, to simply be disappointed with God. Don’t turn your back. Don’t give up. Just… be real. Acknowledge with disappointment and frustration and anger and even despair that heaven has not yet come to earth and not all things will work out nice and tidy for us the way it might in a Garth Brooks song.
Being disappointed in God is allowed. Heck, it’s even biblical. David was often frustrated and disappointed with God’s silence or refusal to answer prayer as he hoped:
“How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?” (Psalm 13:1-2)
Check out Psalm 22, 77, 88 and probably a dozen other Psalms that carry this same sentiment. There’s this vibe in these passages that God has not come through but instead of rationalizing it or stopping praying for hard things or any other such response, David is just raw in his disappointment, holding nothing back. David shows this is a valid and even faithful response to prayers that don’t pan out. So let’s be willing to follow suit and not shy away from being real with God because as counterintuitive as it seems, our disappointment has the power to lead us to a deeper love and trust in this God. At the end of Psalm 13, David confesses:
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
for he has been good to me. (Psalm 13:5-6)
I’m not sure here but maybe God’s faithfulness is best expressed not through whether prayer is answered or not but instead transcending this altogether and responding to our limited human perspectives with a grace that draws us to him in the midst of all our disappointment. That’s kind of cool, right?
The post Okay, What do we REALLY do with Unanswered Prayer? appeared first on Grassroots Church.
So last week, 4 of us Grassrooters attended Unite ’24 – a biennial (i.e. happens once every 2 years vs. “biannual” which is twice a year… but I digress) conference put on by Jesus Collective. This year’s theme was: “The Prophetic Church: 4 Ways a Church Renewed by Jesus can Surprise the World” and it was, by all accounts, a great few days of learning and connecting with other Jesus Collective partners.
Along with some very practical workshops, the conference featured 4 plenary sessions that addressed 4 stark challenges taking place within the Church today: Cynicism, Polarization, Anxiety and Power. I won’t address all 4 of these challenges but I’d love to just touch on cynicism because not only do I “get” it, but I think the answer to addressing cynicism, provided by the speaker Brian Zahnd, is something that I, and maybe the rest of our community, could stand to pay more attention to ‘less cynicism begins to take root in our church as well.
Zahnd addresses the question, “How can a spiritually thick church bring hope to a cynical world?” and his answer, in a word, is enchantment. He argues the Church has by and large lost the sense of wonder and mystery in our ecclesial spaces, most notably through out teaching and preaching. We’ve diminished the reality of heaven in exchange for proclaiming messages that are solely practical: 3 Steps to a Happy Marriage; 5 Ways to be a Better Friend; The Path to Better Parenting and so on. We all know these types of messages. As a new pastor, this was particularly convicting to hear as I know I’m certainly guilty of elevating practicality in my teaching over and above any beckoning to the transcendent reality we confess. Frankly, enchantment can be…. weird. I’d much rather avoid it and focus on how you can live a better life here and now.
For what it’s worth, I don’t believe it’s an either/or. That is, I don’t think it’s EITHER we just teach practical life lessons OR we emphasize any reality that transcends the material world but I remain convicted by Zahnd’s observation. The thing is, the world can get practical teaching anywhere. Check out the self-help aisle at Indigo to get started. What the world CAN’T offer, though, is a mystical experience, a mysterious encounter with the Divine. It can’t find a spiritual counter to the physical experience. The world holds that the only thing that can be experienced, and thus the only thing that matters, is what our 5 senses can perceive. Coming out of the age of reason—i.e. Modernity—the world no longer “needs” heaven, or any mystical reality in fact. Despite this concession, Zahnd believes, and I contend as well, that such longing is still present in each of us, regardless if we’re religiously affiliated with or not, and a church that ignores it does so to its detriment.
What does this look like practically? Zahnd suggests enchantment is about transcendence—going beyond what this material world can offer—and he notes three things that transcend – three things that are self-justifying and don’t require anything beyond itself to be experienced: truth, goodness and beauty. All three of these, he believes, can and should be found in the Church’s sacraments – moments like praying for one another, of sharing the bread and the cup, of baptism, and so forth. All of these point to truth, goodness and beauty and it’s within the Church that such experiences culminate best and most intentionally.
Phew. That was heady.
So what do you think? If nothing else, it’s certainly food for thought. This past Sunday our worship leader, Rhonda, helped lead our community in a practice of corporate prayer using our hands in various postures (learn more about this infinitum life). It was simple and yet, I think, if we allow it, we’ll see that through regularly partaking in practices and moments like these, we can begin to push against the cynicism and worldview that posits “this physical world is all there is.”
I’m excited, if not intimidated, to walk this road of enchantment together. I hope you are, too!
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A few weeks back we started our latest series on revealing who the Jesus actually is that we claim to be at our centre and one of the things I noted was that when we discover who Jesus is, we get the bonus of knowing who God the Father actually is as well. And this is because Jesus is the perfect revelation of God. I’ll be returning to this point later in the series because it is–or it should be anyway– the starting point for any theological discourse within Christian orthodoxy, but this week I want to just reinforce this profound truth because, frankly, it’s easy to lose sight, separating “God” from “Jesus” and when we do that, we are at risk of distorting both the character and nature of Jesus and the character and nature of the Father.
If you’re like me, you grew up thinking of Jesus as the “softer side of God.” Whereas God the Father is the disciplinarian and gets frustrated with us, Jesus is the merciful one; God seems distant while Jesus draws near; God is all about the law and Jesus is all about grace; God’s majestic and powerful and Jesus is humble and submissive; God gets frustrated easily while Jesus is over there saying, “Go easy on ’em, Dad!” And although the Bible can easily be read in such a light as to arrive at this dichotomy between the Godhead (nevermind the unique character of the Holy Spirit!), the overwhelming arc of the New Testament, from the gospels through the epistles, presents a very different perspective in how we are to understand Jesus and the Father: Jesus is in fact the PERFECT revelation of the Father.
For instance, here’s just a SAMPLE of verses that speak to how Jesus perfectly reveals who the Father is:
- Matthew 11:27: All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.
- John 1:18: No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known.
- John 5:19: So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise.
- John 8:19: They said to him therefore, “Where is your Father?” Jesus answered, “You know neither me nor my Father. If you knew me, you would know my Father also.”
- John 10:30: I and the Father are one.
- John 12:45: And whoever sees me sees him who sent me.
- John 14:9: Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not known Me, Philip? He who has seen Me has seen the Father; so how can you say, ‘Show us the Father’?
- John 14:11: Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the works themselves.
- 1 John 5:20: And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.
- Colossians 1:15: He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.
- Hebrews 1:3: The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven.
That last one always stops me in my tracks: “the exact representation of his being.” Really?! Wow. Meghan Good notes “Jesus was God’s authorized representative, sent to set straight the record about who God is, about what God wants, and about how reality really works.” (Divine Gravity, pg. 42). Again, I’ll be talking about this in the coming weeks more but for this week I’d love it if we would just commit to meditating on these verses and consider the implications of what it means to assert that the Jesus of the gospels – the one most epitomized through his selfless, others-oriented, enemy-forgiving love on the cross – is the consummate depiction of God the Father. I confess I don’t fully understand all of this nor the full implications of it but that’s okay. This, my friends, is a profound mystery and one we’ll explore further in the days and months and years to come at Grassroots Church. I hope you’ll continue to join us as we explore this mystery together.
The post They’re the Same Picture: The Nature & Character of Jesus and the Nature & Character of God appeared first on Grassroots Church.
So I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into here. No matter how you slice it, this latest series is…. ambitious. If you were with us Sunday morning for Message 1 on our series “Revealing the Jesus of the Centre”, you may have sensed the struggle of this endeavour. But, exactly why is it so hard to “pin” him down? Let’s discuss this a bit.
First off, let me say this: I’m leery of the project of “pinning” Jesus down. Something about that rings of trying to box Him in, to define Him according to MY expectations and standards and biases. There’s no good outcome that can come from limiting the incarnate God of the universe. So let’s start with the acknowledgement that to pin down Jesus is not only impossible but actually a harmful pursuit to begin with.
With that out of the way, we acknowledge that there are things about Jesus that everyone accepts: he was an itinerant teacher, or rabbi, in 1st century Palestine; he was the son of Mary and Joseph, he grew up in poverty, etc. None of these things are the complete picture of who he is, of course, but they’re a good place for us to start. We can also add universal agreement, for Christians anyway, of him being the Son of God, of dying on a cross and being resurrected, and…well, after this things get a bit murky.
The reasons for said murkiness are varied but perhaps can be whittled down to two main things. The first is that all we know of Jesus comes from the New Testament; the 4 gospel accounts providing slightly varied angles on his life, one book specifically on the spread of the early church—the Book of Acts—and then 22 letters or epistles written more or less to specific local contexts or individuals, trying to figure out in real time within a first century world what it meant to submit to the resurrected Jesus. We are to take these ancient texts and impose them on our own context 2,000 years later, on the other side of the world – a context of indoor plumbing and electricity and iPhones and Netflix and AI… and T-Swift. The task is to somehow make heads or tails of what Jesus meant when he speaks into a pre-science, pre-modern first century context about things like money accumulation…. or divorce… or submission to authorities… or, well, you get the idea. There are many layers between us and the Bible which means lots of room for coming up with different ways of interpreting who Jesus was and what he was all about.
And then the other reason for the challenge of interpreting Jesus, as I see it, is our own annoying proclivities. Okay, let’s just call it what it is: sin. It’s baked into us and it definitely contributes to whatever heads or tails understanding we end up having of Jesus. Our sinful tendency is to make Jesus into something palatable, something that wouldn’t make us too uncomfortable, too uneasy to deal with. Who wouldn’t derail us from the trajectory we’ve already set for ourselves. We don’t want a Jesus that might impinge on our own efforts and pursuits of success, power, advancement, reputation building, etc. If he’s not willing to get in line with where we’re headed, than we just go back to the drawing board and draw up a new Jesus. Easy peasy.
So, how do we overcome these challenges? We start by acknowledging these realities that make our access to Jesus murky. We pray for clarity, asking Holy Spirit to remove the cloudy lens that separate us from Jesus and then we move forward, trusting that we are being faithful to the text and its revelation of Jesus, ensuring that the Jesus we put at the centre is one that calls us to follow in a way that puts his will before our own and yet still loves us unconditionally when we fail.
It is an ongoing challenge we’re in but to ignore it and just assume we got it is the easy way out. And I am confident our community is up for the task together. Let’s do this, friends!
The post Why is Clarifying the Jesus of the Centre so… Murky?! appeared first on Grassroots Church.
Thanks to everyone who helped make Holy Week so special for our community this year! From Rich Clark for making the chicken-wired cross to Bill Ulrich for such a powerful scripture reading on Good Friday to the musicians for putting together an intentional selection of worship songs, the Roots & Shoots teachers and kiddos for organizing such a glorious rendition of “The Easter Song” (Keith Green couldn’t hold a candle to you guys!), and all the other many hands behind the scenes that allowed for these times together to have such meaning. Oh, and if you didn’t play a specific role as a volunteer but you showed up, then thank you, too! Doing so helped create a really impactful experience, drawing our attention together as a church family to the cross and the empty tomb.
As I mentioned on Sunday, Holy Week, and specifically Resurrection Sunday is pretty much the Super Bowl of our faith. It all comes down to this monumental event each year and so it behooves us to properly turn our attention to this, recognizing the preeminence of the cross as a community. So thank you for taking the time to help out with this, in whatever capacity you played!
And if you weren’t able to make it to the services, no fret! I do encourage you to check these services out on our website or the Holy Week series on our YouTube channel.
Thanks again, everyone!
Grace and Peace,
Steve
The post Thank You for Making Holy Week so Meaningful! appeared first on Grassroots Church.
If you think about it, it’s a bit weird to intentionally focus on Jesus’ death isn’t it? Imagine if we did this for literally anyone else. Consider someone in your life who passed away, maybe a grandma or other relative. Now consider if, every year on the anniversary of their death, you spent time intentionally thinking about their death – why they died, how they died, the pain and suffering they endured, etc. – not how they lived or any particularly fond memories you had, but specifically all the details about their death itself. I mean, that’s just objectively a strange thing to do. And yet this is more or less what we do each year on Good Friday.
So if you’re struggling to get into the right frame of mind this year, I totally get it. And yet as weird and odd as it may be, I still think it’s important we try to do so because contemplating the crucifixion can help draw us closer to understanding God’s incredible love for us which in turn can cause us draw closer to God which in turn can change our hearts toward greater obedience which can in turn begin to cause new creation to flourish all around us, in us and through us. And that’s…. kind of beautiful. But it starts with contemplating Jesus’ death.
But still… I get it. It’s weird.
To maybe help in this, I put together a Spotify Playlist (and copied it to YouTube as well for your convenience) specifically for Good Friday and I invite you to subscribe to it and spend some time intentionally listening to these songs and meditating and praying. We’ll be singing a few of these songs on Friday at 7pm at the church as we journey through the story starting at the Garden of Gethsemane and ending at the grave. I hope you’ll join us there as we wrestle with this tragic affair as a church family… as weird as this whole thing might be
Grace and Peace,
Steve
PS – Don’t forget, Sunday’s coming…
The post Good Friday’s a tad Weird, Let’s Be Real appeared first on Grassroots Church.
As Lent winds down, it’s time to prepare for the rollercoaster ride that is Holy Week. Holy Week is like binge-watching the ultimate drama series. You’ve got the triumphal entry, a momentous last supper, the betrayal of a close friend, a mock trial, and an innocent man murdered before their eyes. Some times we can be so familiar with the story that the weight of the drama and all that happens in that final week gets lost on us.
Here’s what I’d love for you to do this year: stop. Try to approach this history changing story as if hearing it for the first time. In fact, put yourself in the shoes of the disciples – physically present with Jesus, living through this dramatic final week by his side. How would you comprehend the unfolding of these last days without knowing the end of the story? I mean, that’s the thing. Imagine you don’t have Easter Sunday in your purview. All you know is this moment you’re in, all that’s happening before you in real time.
I think for most of us, if we’ve gone through this week by his side and we’re in the garden and are witnessing his arrest and the flogging and the eventual murder of this close friend–all of it–there would be two feelings that would well to the surface: utter confusion and utter despair. Utter confusion because this is NOT how we’d imagined this new kingdom and rule he spoke of so frequently to be ushered in. In fact, it’s the opposite of everything we’d expect – despite his teachings that pointed to it all along. We would have failed to “get it” just as much as his disciples failed to “get it.” And then despair because, sure, let’s grant that this kingdom Jesus spoke about is… different, and maybe we can’t understand it at all, but regardless, looking up at the man hanging there naked, it’s clear whatever this thing looks like, the whole thing has dramatically failed. Any hope of a different tomorrow has been thoroughly trounced, eradicated, removed. Hope has died. His good intentions and inspiring words weren’t enough to stop Rome.
For us to experience the power of Sunday, we need to cling to these two emotions. My challenge for this week is to resist the allure of Easter Sunday. Yeah, I know we know what comes next so it’s going to be hard. But I think it’ll be worth it for us to really get at the significance, the weight of these final days. To just sit in this confusion and despair. To feel the emotional weight those closest to Jesus were feeling so viscerally in those last days and hours. My suspicion is that if we can find a way to stay here, in this dark and uncertain space, just for a few days, we will, like those first disciples, be taken aback by the wonder of Sunday morning’s Good News. Let’s do this, Grassroots!
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This coming Sunday marks our last in our series on Renewed Rhythms: Cultivating Spiritual Disciplines TOWARD Transformation in 2024. Over the past 11 weeks (1 week was set aside for Teen Challenge), we’ve looked at 10 very different spiritual disciplines – some quite conventional (i.e. prayer, solitude, fasting, etc.) while others not so much (soul friendship, journaling, etc.). Regardless, each has served the objective of drawing us closer to God in order to love God and our neighbour just a wee bit better.
So… how’s that worked out for you?
Personally, it’s been hard. Looking back, maybe 10 distinct practices was a bit too ambitious. It’s hard enough practicing one or two but doing all of them? Frankly, unless we all gave up our lives, became monks and lived in a monastery full time it’s pretty much out of the question. I mean, let’s be real. That said, hopefully you were able to approach these disciplines as more of a buffet-style – where you could sample all of them a bit but then maybe spend more attention with those practices you deemed more necessary for where you’re at in your faith journey these days.
For myself, the disciplines requiring more of my attention these days happen to be scripture reading and soul friendship. Again, that’s not to say the others aren’t relevant or even necessary – they certainly are. It’s just that scripture reading, for instance, is a pretty significant part of my work as a pastor (go figure!) and has been an area of my faith I’ve struggled with for years. I wanted to use this period to jump back aboard the Bible thumpin’ train and discover the invitation into beauty and love that the Bible provides as it points us to Jesus. And then also I realized that intentional friendships, built on authenticity and vulnerability, with a healthy measure of accountability and intentionality toward following Jesus, is very much what my life is in need of these days. I’m not an island and soul friends remind me of this regularly.
I appreciate, though, what all of the other disciplines offer as well and over the next year I’m making a commitment to continue practicing these ones I’m less familiar with in intentional and, hopefully, sustainable ways. I invite you to do the same as we move on from this series, seeing the gift that each offers along the way, allowing them to draw us closer to Jesus and to one another as we stumble forward together.
The post Reflections on Renewed Rhythms appeared first on Grassroots Church.
I mentioned a few weeks back that I’ve been doing a Jesus Collective online course called the Online Learning Collective. The theme of the course is “How to Lead and Disciple in a Polarized World” and each week we have been taking a different angle on discerning how to effectively navigate the polarizations of our day through what Jesus Collective calls a 3rd Way approach. So topics like our faith, society, racism, politics, and, this last week has been about family. I’m sure if your family is anything like mine, there’s no shortage of polarizing topics to be had!
I provide all that context because one of the messages we’ve been focusing within this topic of family is a redefinition of who our family is. That, in Christ, our family moves beyond just the borders of our biological connections and is entirely redefined. There are all sorts of beautiful implications for this perspective, not least of which is showing us a new way to get along in the midst of polarizing ideas. It’s something I’ve been praying for our community to increasingly move toward in how we view each other in relationship to one another.
We’ll continue to move toward realizing all of the ins and outs of what a new family in Jesus looks like together, and in line with that, I’m including a 14 minute video that was a part of the learning materials from the OLC this week. Bishop William Willimon (cool name, I know) shares some practical examples of stories of what a family in Jesus looks like and does for one another. And trust me, you’ll be inspired. And if you have the emotional frailty like me, you’ll even get teary-eyed…. which is okay too! Either way, I’m imploring you to take a few minutes and watch this video this week because it captures so well what I hope and pray Grassroots continues to mature into.
By the way, after watching the video, you may be inspired to step up in practical ways, which is awesome. Fortunately, we have a Love Fund that is currently depleted and needs replenishing in order to help folks in our own community who find themselves in a bind. I encourage you to prayerfully offer support if you can by making a donation on our website and stipulating in the comment section that it’s for the Love Fund.
Thanks Grassroots! Grace and Peace!
Steve
The post Beauty and Inspiration in the Jesus Family appeared first on Grassroots Church.
I thought I’d spend this week’s corner of the newsletter giving a shout out to our Grassroots Youth Group ministry! We’re meeting every ~3 weeks these days which is partially due to capacity of leadership but almost more so due to capacity of our youth. Not sure if you knew this but KIDS ARE BUSY these days!
Regardless, our youth group leadership (Matt, Tara, Derek, Scott B and myself to a lesser extent) are convinced meeting together matters as we’re helping form the faith of our youth and which, we hope and pray, will have a lifelong impact on them and the Kingdom of God. And so this year we’ve been up to all sorts of fun things – sledding, bowling, bonfires, hikes, backyard games and gym nights to name a few. Our next big outing will be a hike to the Sea Lion at the Sleeping Giant some time in March (stay tuned!).
One thing we discussed as leaders was aside from the fun events, what are we actually doing with regards to the spiritual component of youth group? What kind of teaching are we giving our kids this year? This is important for all of us as leaders who also happen to be parents of a good bunch of these kids. The issue is that depending on the venue we are meeting in, a specific “teaching” isn’t always possible. And while that can be unfortunate, we also are convinced that by simply providing a space for Christian youth to be together, build friendships, form memories, encourage meaningful conversations, etc. that we can have much longer lasting impact than what a spiritual lesson might offer. That’s not to dismiss teachings, of course, and Matt, the main GYG leader, has been doing a fantastic job teaching where possible as well. Last night’s message, as an example, was a discussion on confronting our fears and it seemed to resonate with a lot of the youth. My point is, I guess, that youth group as a whole is such a worthwhile ministry and there’s so much more being gained than simple spiritual truths each time.
Also, I don’t want to brag here, but our youth are fantastic. Seriously, every kid that comes out has just so much to offer and such a good attitude. I’ve worked in youth ministry on and off for 15-20 years and I don’t know that I’ve ever had such an enjoyable group of youth to work with. So… thanks parents for your contributions toward making great kids
So I have a request. Could you commit to regularly pray for Grassroots Youth Group? Pray for our leaders, pray for wisdom, pray for our youth that they’ll continue to want to come out and will come with open hearts and desire to grow as individuals and in community. Also, if you want to do MORE than pray, we also have opportunities to help out with snacks and if you’ve got your Plan to Protect training, we’d love to have you help out as a volunteer where possible as well (for instance – drivers needed for our Sleeping Giant hike!). So let Matt Denis know what you’re able to do. Thanks, church fam!
PS – you can subscribe to our upcoming church events, including GYG, on our website to make sure you don’t miss anything! grassroots.church/events
The post An Homage to GYG appeared first on Grassroots Church.
I, like many of you, sat through the Super Bowl this past Sunday night in order to view the always hyped up ads that accompany the year’s most prestigious commercial sporting event (I say “commercial” because EVERYONE knows the most prestigious sporting event is the World Squash Championships held in different locations each year, but I digress). Like many of you we sat in silence as the foot washing ad from the “He Gets Us” campaign came on. In fact, I straight up got choked up watching this one (big surprise, I know).
Since then, of course and with no surprise whatsoever, the Internetz have been aflame with response both positive and negative that X user Dan White Jr. seems to have summarized well:
For what it’s worth, I don’t think any of these takes hold much weight and they all miss the mark to one degree or another but I don’t want to dissect each of them because the Internet has already done all that and you can find the arguments for and against each take if this is something that interests you.
I did, however, want to just add a 4th lens to this and it is what I call the “Utilitarian Lens” – which says that “Jesus wouldn’t spend $14 mil on a commercial. He’d just feed the poor.” I’ve seen variations of this statement made all over the place as well. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately because something just doesn’t feel right. In fact, I see this same thinking in scripture as well. Remember when the woman spills her expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet and good ol’ Judas says “Could not this perfume have been sold to others and the money given to the poor?” You could essentially replace “ad spaces” for “perfume” and arrive at the same principle: this seems like a waste of money when poor folks are all around us and have need. Jesus’ response to this was, essentially, that this wasn’t a waste of dollars spent because, though the poor are always here, there are also other important things to spend your money on (such as me, Jesus!).
Now, please do not hear me say we should cast aside the need for caring for the poor. Of course I believe it’s an integral part of the Christian’s call and the responsibility of bringing shalom, the peace and well-being we’re called to be agents of in this world, is oftentimes arrived at through serving and giving to the poor. Keep doing that.
But also.
Let’s acknowledge that shalom reached through more than just meeting material need, as important and essential as that may be. In fact, shalom is encapsulated by telling others about Jesus (this commercial does that), showing the world what the peace-making, others-oriented love of Jesus looks like (this commercial does that), and inviting others into following that Jesus instead of what the world (and sadly the Church) has often portrayed him as being (this commercial does that, too).
So, was the commercial a waste of money? Possibly. But can we not at least concede that sometimes communicating the beautiful, subversive message of Jesus–this message that we claim to be the most important, most life-giving, most hope-filled message for the ENTIRE world–can be rather expensive in this day and age?
And as an aside, here’s an encouraging story for our community. On Sunday, as I mentioned, we watched the big game. What I didn’t mention was that we were at a big party with non-Grassrooters-but-still-church friends. There were maybe 30 or so of us. When the first commercial came on, there was silence in the room. Everyone was more or less in shock at what we had just witnessed. And then as convo started up again, someone in the room made a light-hearted jab: “Is Grassroots making commercials now?!” And whether intentional or not, I took that to mean, “This is the kind of Jesus your community talks about and tries to emulate.” That basically made my entire night and I thought it’d serve as a good encouragement to the rest of you as well. This IS the Jesus we want to both proclaim and reflect! Amen!
Okay that’s all. Have a great week and we’ll see you Sunday!
Grace and Peace!
Steve
The post “He Gets Us” Super Bowl Ad – Some Thoughts appeared first on Grassroots Church.
Order of Service SONG 1 | 2 : Come As You Are || All The Poor And Powerless Offering Kids Resource SONG 3 | 4 : So Will I || King Of My Heart Further Resources for Midweek Church SONG 1 | 2 : Come As You Are || All The Poor And Powerless Offering […]
Order of Service SONG 1 | 2 : King Of Love || Come Thou Fount Offering Godly Play: Under Grade 4 Grade 5-6 Resource Sermon SONG 3 | 4 : Lord I Need You || Jesus We Love You Further Resources for Midweek Church SONG 1 | 2 : King Of Love || Come Thou […]
Order of Service SONG 1 | 2 : King Of Love || Come Thou Fount Offering Godly Play: Under Grade 4 Grade 5-6 Resource Sermon SONG 3 | 4 : Lord I Need You || Jesus We Love You Further Resources for Midweek Church SONG 1 | 2 : King Of Love || Come Thou […]
Order of Service SONG 1 | 2 : This I Know || Consuming Fire Offering Godly Play: Under Grade 4 Grade 5-6 Resource Sermon SONG 3 | 4 : O Come To The Altar || I Wait Further Resources for Midweek Church SONG 1 | 2 : This I Know || Consuming Fire Offering In […]
Order of Service SONG 1 | 2: Power to Redeem || Change My Heart Oh God | Oceans Offering Godly Play: Under Grade 4 Grade 5-6 Resource Sermon SONG 3 | 4: Pieces || This Road Further Resources for Midweek Church SONG 1 | 2: Power to Redeem || Change My Heart Oh God | […]
Order of Service Song 1 & 2: Beautiful Things || My Fathers World Offering Godly Play: Under Grade 4 Grade 5-6 Resource Sermon SONG 3 & 4: The Lord Our God || Forever Reign Further Resources for Midweek Church Song 1 & 2: Beautiful Things || My Fathers World Offering In this time of uncertainty, […]
Order of Service Song 1 & 2: I Am || Brokenness Aside Offering Godly Play: Under Grade 4 Grade 5-6 Resource Sermon SONG 3 & 4: Death Was Arrested || God With Us Further Resources for Midweek Church Song 1 & 2: I Am || Brokenness Aside Offering In this time of uncertainty, with so […]
Order of Service Song 1 & 2: Pieces || Beautiful Things Offering Godly Play: Under Grade 4 Grade 5-6 Resource Sermon SONG 3 & 4: Change My Heart | Oceans || Be Thou My Vision Further Resources for Midweek Church Song 1 & 2: Pieces || Beautiful Things Offering In this time of uncertainty, with […]
Order of Service Song 1 & 2: Power To Redeem || Blessed Be Your Name Offering Godly Play: Under Grade 4 Grade 5-6 Resource Sermon SONG 3 & 4: Psalm 62 || Jesus We Love You Further Resources for Midweek Church Song 1 & 2: Power To Redeem || Blessed Be Your Name Offering In […]
Order of Service Song 1 & 2: I Choose To Worship || Joy Of The Lord Offering Godly Play: Under Grade 4 Grade 5-6 Resource Sermon SONG 3 & 4: Mightier || Sovereign Over Us Further Resources for Midweek Church Song 1 & 2: I Choose To Worship || Joy Of The Lord Offering In […]