It wasn’t the first thought that caused me to nod in agreement and mutter “preach it”. It wasn’t the first idea that affirmed that I would be buying this book today (Big Bad Brad loaned it to me). It is one of the few books wherein which the author’s introduction struck so many chords in my own heart and mind that I wanted to read and absorb every last word.
The book, Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell, opens with a story about a painting in his basement. Should you decide to read the book I won’t ruin the fun story surrounding the painting. The premise revolves around the idea of the artist of said painting deciding, after the painting was finished, there was no longer any need for anyone to ever paint again. Can anyone guess what that leads him to conclude?
I saw it right away in our own heritage. There are those who believe we have the perfect painting (how to do church and be THE church). Not only that, there’s no need for anyone else to paint any more pictures. Just fire up the mimeograph machine and roll out copy after copy. But I have real, serious problems with this viewpoint and so should you.
The challenge for Christians then is to live with great passion and conviction, remaining open and flexible, aware that this life is not the last painting. Times change. God doesn’t, but times do. We learn and grow, and the world around us shifts, and the Christian faith is alive only when it is listening, morphing, innovating, letting go of whatever has gotten in the way of Jesus and embracing whatever will help us be more and more the people God wants us to be.
He gives the example of Martin Luther who raised a whole series of questions as part of his experience with the church of his day. Luther wanted the Bible to be available to everyone, he believed that everyone had a divine calling from God and that God’s grace was not something to be purchased. Luther was part of a tradition that stressed change and growth.
The didn’t use the word reformed, they used the word reforming. This distinction is crucial. They knew that they and others hadn’t gotten it perfect forever. They knew that the things they said and did and wrote and decided would need to be revisited. Rethought. Reworked.
And we, those involved in church today have not gotten it perfect either. What we have said, done, written and preached is not perfect. It must be revisited, rethought, reworked to be genuine and relevant in the lives of people living in this century.
I’ve wrestled and agonized over the spirit of legalism and self-righteous, self-proclaimed correctness of our heritage. I realize that right now, at this point in my life, God can use me to change this particular aspect. Not to effect change on the tradition as a whole but in the lives of specific people. I may not be able to change a church as a whole but I can allow Jesus to change my life.
In the process of Jesus changing my life I can influence someone else, perhaps you, to live for Jesus and live like Jesus. I was reminded of my place in the stream of Christianity.
I’m part of this tradition. I’m part of this global, historic stream of people who believe that God has not left us alone but has been involved in human history from the beginning. People who believe that in Jesus, God came among us in a unique and powerful way, showing us a new kind of life. Giving each of us a new vision for our life together, for the world we live in. And as a part of this tradition, I embrace the need to keep painting, to keep reforming. By this I do not mean cosmetic, superficial changes like better lights and music, sharper graphics, and new methods with easy-to-follow steps. I mean theology; the beliefs about God, Jesus, the Bible, salvation, the future. We must keep reforming the way the Christian faith is defined, lived, and explained.
All that and I didn’t even share with you the thought that started all this.
