The Way of Abraham, Part 1

Recently, I’ve been fascinated by the example of Abraham. We all know that Abraham left the land of his birth, Ur, to go to a place (as the Lord said) “that I will show you.” That is, he knew nothing about this new land. As I have recently discovered, however, he knew quite a bit about the land he was leaving.

By the way, what kind of name is Ur, anyway? I can just imagine the scene:
STRANGER: Great place you have here, Abe. What do you call it?
ABRAHAM: Er….
STRANGER: I like it!

But I digress. I heard an excellent teacher the other day describe how clay tablets have been found that identify ancient towns and districts, named after the family of Abraham: Haran, Terah, Nahor, and Serug. Now, this can serve as confirmation of the historical accuracy of the Old Testament narrative, but I’m more interested in the idea that when Abraham was called to go to the unknown land, he was leaving something behind. And it wasn’t just anything. If your family or tribe is so powerful that people are naming cities and districts after you, then you have a lot of clout in your hometown. Abraham had a great deal going for him in the land of Ur. I can’t imagine it was easy for him to just pull up and move.

You know, it was Terah’s idea to go to Canaan in the first place, but for some reason he stopped at Haran. Abraham was simply traveling along with his father, but what to do now that his dad stopped? Think about it: Terah had the vision, he was the founder, perhaps God had been speaking to him as he ended up speaking with Abraham. And here you are, Abraham, following your father who was following God, and he pulls up short! Do you stay with dad?

But no, Abraham heads out on his own, envisioned by his own message from God. This started a pattern of God calling people out of the “good” to be a part of the “great”, and this pattern has been repeated a number of times. Here are some more examples:

Moses was being raised in Pharaoh’s house. That must have been pretty nice. Perhaps, as the adopted grandson of the Pharaoh, he was being groomed for the throne. Even if not, he still had a tremendous education, unfathomable wealth, and great influence. And he clearly felt called by God to be the deliverer of his people (Acts 7:25) — even though he started about it the wrong way. God was calling him out of what could arguably be described as the best position in the known world to head a rebellion against that world’s most powerful nation.

Let’s move on to Paul. He describes himself (Phil. 3:5-6) as a Hebrew of Hebrews, blameless under the very rigorous Jewish law. He was the hatchet man for the powerful Pharisees, running a successful campaign to stamp out these followers of Jesus. God pulled him out of what could only be described as a very successful career, to become, quite literally, the scum of the earth (1 Cor 4:13).

Lastly, Philip was called out of a great revival to walk down an isolated desert road. Think about it! It’s revival! Great crowds were hanging on his every word. Dramatic healings and deliverances. To say there was “much joy” in the city (Acts 8.8) was an understatement.

And right out of the middle of all this, God calls him to take a walk down a desert road. Of course, we know that he was to encounter the Ethiopian eunuch, but Philip didn’t know that. All he knew was that he was being called away from where GOD WAS MOVING.

So the point? Well, I guess I’m feeling that same urging. I feel like leaving the “good” because the “great” may be just around the corner. For me, the “good” is a high-paying job, stability, a known future, participating in my local church, supporting various causes — you know, the Christian-American Dream. The great is…that’s just it; I don’t know. However, as I’ll explain in Part 2, I do know that I should be expecting the unexpected.

Church History

My own church history, that is. How much of my perspective on Christian living is wrapped up in the three types of churches I attended? I may never know, but I’d sure like to understand a little better.

Mainline

The first church I attended was of the mainline denominational variety. It had almost 8000 members, although probably a third of that attended each week. I went there with my twin brother, sister, and mom every Sunday. My dad attended rarely, usually on Easter or Christmas, and what I remember of that was that we had to make extra sure we behaved, as he would get mad at my brother and me for talking or goofing off. I liked it better when dad didn’t go.

The youth group was entirely different than the church proper. The staff consisted of college-age kids who were evangelical Christians (although of course I wasn’t familiar with that term as a teenager in 1980), led Bible studies, showed how to live as a Christian, and — more than that — shared their lives with us. In fact, the theme verse of the leadership was 1 Thes. 2:8.

A Move of God

Midway through my junior year in college, I started attending a church where the members were convinced that revival was going to break out any minute, and we needed to be prepared. I attended services, went to prayer meetings, learned spiritual disciplines, experienced the supernatural, and met my wife there. I also saw leaders fall, witnessed mistakes, made some myself, and in general learned how to be a charismatic-prophetic-end-times-bible-believing-hand-lifting follower of Jesus.

The people I met there were among the most dedicated believers I have found. Bible knowledge was everywhere, as was an emphasis on prayer and fasting as a lifestyle. They were passionate about their love for Jesus.

Seeker Friendly

After 15 years, we felt the tug of God to leave, so we took the opportunity presented by a move across town to look for a new church. The second one we visited was a seeker church in the Willow model. An absolute 180 from our previous experience, it was refreshingly different. Evangelical but not confrontational, devoted but not quite discipling, filled with new/young believers, I had never seen anything like it. We immediately got involved, volunteering in different places in an attempt to meet people.

And the answer is….

So, I go from mainline ho-hum to prophetic fringe to seeker-friendly. What does this make me?

From my first experience, I learned that every church contains followers of Jesus. Whether the preacher is bible-friendly or more of a social worker, whether it’s mainline or hardline, God still calls people to himself.

From my second experience, I learned that it is possible to be a fully committed believer, willing to spend my life and resources on an unseen kingdom. However, it must be done in community with other like-minded folks, or I cannot succeed. I also learned that great reward only comes from great risk. Of course, great risk also involves the possibility of failure, embarrassment, and even doctrinal error. I discovered that I am a risk taker.

From my third (and current) experience, I am learning that it is not enough to talk about “reaching the lost”, I must take an active role in doing just that. Prayer without action is, apparently, the same thing as no prayer at all. I am also learning that without a vision, the people really do perish. As humans, we must be challenged to something more than we can see with our eyes, or we will spend our lives toiling for things that have no eternal value.

So is one expression better than another? I am tempted to say Yes, but each time that happens, I am reminded that God called us to our current church for a purpose. I felt very clearly that He was telling me that while I had something to offer this church, it also has something to offer me. I am encouraged in knowing that God has some things he is putting in to me, to make me something that can be used by him. I feel like Onesimus mentioned by Paul in his letter to Philemon: “Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful.”

Back to the Bible

On his web site, Brian McLaren gives some suggestions about songwriting. A follow-up is here, with some more technical suggestions for songwriters.

I appreciate both articles, but neither suggested something I have wondered for a while. What’s wrong with putting actual Bible verses or passages into the songs? I’m going to sound like an old geezer now, but [insert old man voice] I remember when I could recognize the scripture from where the authors drew their inspiration. If you were to look in my Bible, you would see little musical notes I’ve drawn in the margins, next to a passage I recognized in a song. Not many songs from the last several years have been noted, and it’s NOT that these songs aren’t biblical; it’s just that they aren’t Bible.

Perhaps one of the reasons behind this phenomenon is the Bibles that songwriters are using. There’s nothing wrong with the NIV or NLT for personal study or meditation, but there isn’t much there in the way of memorable prose that isn’t borrowed from the good old King James Version. I know, I know, it’s just my own opinion, but that’s what a blog is for, right? 🙂

The authors of the KJV, and its modern descendents like the NASB or (my preference) the ESV, spent a great deal of time and effort creating prose that was lyrical as well as meaningful. Today’s songwriters may do well to take a look at translations such as these when searching for just the right words. As an example, take a look at the NLT version of Is. 9:7, as compared to the ESV — especially the last sentence — and see what I mean. (Hey, I’m not just looking around for the worst example; this is one of the passages McLaren mentions in his article as a place where songwriters should go for inspiration.)

I know that McLaren discouraged the use of “King James English” in new songs, and I heartily agree that the days of Thee and Thou are over. However, am I the only one who would rather sing about “zeal” instead of “passionate commitment”? Let’s not throw away some of the meaningful expressions, phrases, and imagery we can find in the KJV family just because we want to be (post-)modern and contemporary. A little ancient to go with our future might not be a bad thing.

Paid to praise

A friend of mine attends a church in midtown, and he tells me that all the musicians in the praise band, as well as head of technical crew and some of his assistants, are paid for their efforts (sorry, singers, you’re on your own). He found this out when he was asked to consider joining the sound team. The current sound guy takes home $900 per month for working every Sunday. Not a bad deal for working a few hours on a weekend. The musicians don’t have to be members of the church, either.

I mentioned this to my wife, and she told me that she met someone who is a paid singer at the mainline denominational church where I grew up. What’s going on?

I’m used to staff positions like “worship pastor” or “choir director”. I guess I’m assuming that if we pay the folks who have leadership roles, then they’ll have the freedom to focus on their task, and not be distracted by having to earn a living.

But what does it say if we pay the musicians? Just this: music is so important that it cannot be left to amateurs. The “sound”, the “feel” of the service is so critical that if we rely on volunteer parishoners only, the service will suffer.

But will it?

I wonder how long it will take before something like this (satirical) article becomes a reality? Meanwhile, I’m dusting off my bass guitar and practicing my “amens”.