Two years later, Steven Curtis Chapman can’t shake his daughter’s death. That’s not a bad thing.
Biblical principles sometimes read more
like clichés or fortune-cookie messages rather than life-affirming
truths. Take Romans 8:28, for example: “And we know that all things
work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called
according to His purpose” (NKJV).
Those words penned by the apostle Paul
sound good on paper. They provide comfort and hope to people dealing
with sickness, a job loss or any number of challenging circumstances.
It’s when the severest storms of life come blowing through that the
decision must be made to believe it or not, to stand firm on God’s Word
or let despair take control.
Such was the case with Steven Curtis
and Mary Beth Chapman when they were suddenly thrust into the most
devastating tragedy of their married lives—the death of their child.
‘Let Her Go’ May 21, 2008, was an otherwise normal afternoon at the Chapman
house. Sure, there was a recent wedding engagement in the family to
celebrate and a graduation to attend in a few days, but when you have
six children ranging from preschool age to young adult, “normal” means
there’s really no such thing as down time.
It was during such a usual afternoon
that the unthinkable happened. At about 5 p.m., the Chapmans’ teenage
son Will accidentally struck his 5-year-old sister, Maria, with his SUV
while parking in the driveway.
LifeFlight transported her to the
nearby Vanderbilt University children’s hospital in Nashville, Tenn.,
but rescue attempts proved futile. Maria was gone.
“When they told me that our daughter hadn’t made it, I
had already determined in my mind that I was going to pray until God
breathed life back into her,” Steven Curtis recalls. “I was going to
bar the doors and make them carry me out. I wasn’t giving up. But it
was my wife who spoke to me, and the Spirit through her, to say, ‘Let
her go.’”
It took a long time before Chapman, a
platinum-selling and multiple-award winning recording artist, was able
to share his grief with the world. Even after he reluctantly resumed
performing, he remained silent on the topic of Maria’s death for almost
three months.
After he and Mary Beth found the
strength to tell their story, the invitations for them to share it were
mind-boggling. Everyone wanted to know how this high-profile family had
survived such a horrendous tragedy.
They appeared on Larry King Live, Good Morning America and The 700 Club, and granted an interview to People magazine.
Chapman suddenly was caught up in a
perplexing dichotomy. He was grieving immense loss while also
attempting to accept, even embrace, these opportunities to reveal God’s
love and grace to a world that wanted to hear from him.
Chapman also knew he couldn’t give
people pat responses laden with Christianese. There was nothing he
could do but lay his heart on the line and convey uninhibited honesty
in the process.
“We couldn’t give all the answers,” Chapman says. “I think that’s part of the way God has used it.
“People who would normally be very
skeptical and cynical now might go: ‘OK, I don’t care to hear about
your religion and your faith and all your God talk, but if you’re
surviving this and you’re making it through this, I want to hear about
that. Because that isn’t religion as I know it. That’s something
different.’
“Almost not having the answers, in and of itself, was in a way a pretty profound answer,” Chapman adds.
The interviews were especially tough on
his wife, Chapman says. He admits there are still occasions when his
desire to help others cope with loss is overtaken by a streak of
selfishness.
“All of these wonderful things, and us
getting to share our hope and comfort with others who are hurting,
we’re thankful for that, and we see God using that,” Chapman says.
“But in my humanity and in my flesh,
I’d do anything to turn the hands of time back and say: ‘As good as all
that is, I don’t care. I want my daughter back.’”
Unanswered Questions
The journey that led Chapman to
becoming Maria’s father is well-documented. Ten years ago, when the
adoption bug hit him and Mary Beth, he was best known as the face of
contemporary Christian music. Over his 23-year career he has amassed
more than 10 million album sales, 45 No. 1 radio singles, five Grammy
Awards and an astounding 56 Dove Awards.
First came adopted daughter Shaohannah
(pronounced sho-HAN-uh). Three years later, the Chapmans adopted Stevey
Joy. Then in 2004, after performing at an Easter service in Beijing, a
missionary couple introduced him to a 1-year-old orphan named Maria.
Chapman instinctively knew he had possibly just met his newest daughter.
By then, Chapman was already more than
the most awarded Christian artist of all time. He was unofficially
acting in a new role as the face of international adoption. The
Chapmans became a tailor-made illustration for others of how God adopts
believers into His family.
And perhaps it was the unique nature of
the Chapman family makeup, coupled with the artist’s very public
persona that made the inexplicable tragedy so much more difficult to
comprehend.
“There’s a very large part of us as a family that really
doesn’t understand and wouldn’t begin to say that anybody understands
the theology of why God allows these kinds of things,” Chapman admits.
“The closest we’ll ever get is to read Job. That’s about as close as
we’ll get to understanding how God uses suffering and ... why He allows
it.
“I’ve heard some amazing messages and
done some pretty incredible studies of Job over this last year and a
half, and I’ve come to understand, I think, a lot more about what God
is revealing about His heart and His character through that.”
Entrusted With a Story
Chapman believes that God has, for
whatever reason, entrusted this tragic story to him and his family.
Despite his understandable reluctance at times, he will tell it “over
and over again” and “in a public way,” he says.
But first Chapman had to ask God some
intense questions. And the best way he knew how to convey his feelings
was through music. The songs that came out of his grief eventually
turned into an album, Beauty Will Rise—although, according to Chapman, it is still “really weird” to refer to the processing of his emotions that way.
“I didn’t set out to make a new record
or a new album based on a theme I thought God was giving me,” he says.
“I call these my psalms. It’s just me crying out to God with many of
the same questions David had.
“Now I know what he meant when he was
saying, ‘How long, O Lord?’ or ‘How long is the enemy going to beat the
tar out of me?’ or ‘How long am I going to feel so separated from You?’”
Music has long been the way Chapman has
processed his life. “It’s a real natural thing,” he says. Some of the
songs on the new record, such as “Questions,” were literal examples of
his dealing with the unknown and grappling with the unthinkable.
“God, are You serious?” he recalls
asking. “My own son driving a car and not seeing his sister, and then
my daughters in the yard watching it happen and running up? There’s
just too many wrongs to make any sense.
“But through those kinds of questions,
I think God has given me not so much answers but places of resolve to
say I don’t have to have the answer to that, but I really need to have
Your presence and a sense that You’re walking through this with us.”
Eventually it became apparent that
Chapman needed to share these musical stories with the world, and the
CD released. Even without the music, his fans and supporters felt the
need to reach out to him—many with similar stories of tragedy and loss.
The outpouring was strangely both a comfort and a burden.
“People feel that need to connect,” he
says. “There’s a fellowship of suffering that you become a part of, and
there’s a connection there and a family of sorts. But it’s also the
reason why I’ve done a limited number of interviews and
meet-and-greets—because one of my real concerns, in my humanness and in
my flesh, [is] there’s only so much that I know I can hear and even
tell.”
‘Cinderella’ Reborn
One of Chapman’s most popular songs is
“Cinderella,” inspired by his oldest daughter, Emily. Ultimately it
became just as much about his three adopted girls and imagining the
bittersweet moments of seeing them grow up and eventually start their
own lives. After Maria’s death, Chapman resolved never to sing
“Cinderella” at his concerts.
“I just thought it would be too painful,” he says. “But
with time, I began to realize that if I believe God’s Word, and if I
believe that there is a resurrection from the dead that Christ led the
way into and that He’s overcome death and the grave, and that to be
absent from the body is to be present with Christ, then I’m going to be
with Him and Maria’s with Him; therefore, we’re going to be together.
I’m going to see my little girl again. I’m going to dance with her
again.
“So what would be unthinkably sad all of a sudden has become this hopeful declaration.”
Chapman says that epiphany led to an
“insatiable hunger” to learn as much as he could about heaven. It also
inspired a new song, titled “Heaven Is the Face,” which came out of a
moment in which the songwriter—even though he’d been taught that heaven
is about being with God—confessed: “Right now, heaven is about being
with my little girl.”
“And then God led me to the thought
that it’s not just that,” Chapman adds. “Every nook and cranny of
heaven is full of His glory and His goodness and His perfection. There
are no more orphans. There are no more goodbyes. There’s no more
loneliness. That’s heaven.”
Living Hope
As Chapman has gingerly navigated
through his family’s new normal, one of his biggest fears has been any
appearance of embracing opportunism spun from his family’s tragedy.
With management companies, publicity firms and record labels involved,
he is ever aware of that possibility taking root.
“You could so easily throw the baby out
with the bath water,” Chapman says. “There have been moments when I’ve
just said: ‘I can’t do this. I can’t let this get turned into an iTunes
cover shot, or whatever.’”
But inevitably he is always brought
back to the concept of purpose—whether fully understood or not. Since
that tragic May 21 afternoon in 2008, purpose has been an ongoing
process that has led him to live in the moment and faithfully follow
the path that has stretched out ahead.
“We just have to remember that this is
the story God has entrusted to us,” Chapman concludes about the
family’s loss. “We’ll go wherever we can to tell it to His glory and to
honor our daughter’s memory and more importantly to honor the God who’s
given us the hope that’s just kept us alive to this point.”
Chad Bonham is a journalist, author and producer based in Broken Arrow, Okla.
Learn more about the Chapmans’ organization created in memory of Maria at chapman.charismamag.com
Beauty From Ashes
God is turning sorrow to joy in China
When Steven Curtis and Mary Beth Chapman’s 5-year-old
daughter, Maria, died in a tragic accident two years ago, pastor Greg
Laurie of Harvest Ministries was one of the first people to reach out
to them. Laurie, whose adult son, Chris, died in a car crash less than
three months later, told Chapman: “Maria is a far greater part of your
future than she is of your past.”
Laurie’s statement has had a profound impact on Chapman,
though he has come to understand how much his little girl remains ever
present as well. He has seen much of this in the way Maria’s life has
influenced Shaohannah’s Hope, also called Show Hope—a nonprofit founded
by the Chapmans and named after their oldest adopted daughter.
Show Hope (showhope.org) helps families offset the high costs of international adoption. To date, Show Hope has awarded 2,000 grants.
“To watch what God has done through
[Show Hope] has been amazing,” Chapman says. “All over the country ...
children have been brought into Christian families. We get to have a
front-row seat and be a part of it.”
Maria’s lasting impact on the world was further
solidified in July when the Chapmans opened Maria’s Big House of Hope
in Luoyang, China. The facility is a 60,000-square-foot, six-story,
blue-and-white building equipped to care for orphans 5 years old and
younger with special needs. It includes 140 beds and a surgical floor.
Maria’s Big House of Hope was conceived
when Chapman met a Christian physician and her husband who ran a
special-needs foster-care facility as a ministry.
“We saw this work and fell in love with
it and just asked if there was anything they dreamed of doing beyond
this,” Chapman says. “They told us about some property the government
had given them in the Luoyang province, but they didn’t have the
resources to build a building.”
Chapman helped raise the money, and
eventually the dream was realized. Now even the Chinese government
sends people from its state-run orphanage to Maria’s Big House of Hope
to learn how to better run its own facilities.
“It’s had this cool effect in China,
and we’ve gotten to tell our story every time, that this is in honor of
our daughter who’s with Jesus now and that’s why we can do this,”
Chapman says.
“At the opening, I got to sing,
‘Yours.’ I literally declared in China, ‘God, China is all yours.’
Those opportunities and seeing how God has opened those doors has been
an amazing thing.”
In a tiny Texas town, Bishop W.C. and Donna Martin adopted four children. Their sacrifice triggered an avalanche of love that touched more than 70 orphans.
Several months after she buried her
mother, Donna Martin had an idea to change a life. Soon after, her idea
changed a community. And now, she and her husband hope the idea changes
a nation.
On Feb. 12, 1996, Donna Martin’s
mother passed away. In addition to being the mother of Donna and her 17
siblings, she had been the “Mama” to all of Possum Trot, a small town
in eastern Texas with no pavement or stoplights. Donna was grateful for
the sacrificial love her mom had shown while taking care of so many
kids with so little means.
It was this sacrificial love that
Donna remembered when God called her to do something similar. “Think
about all those children out there who do not have what you had in a
mother,” He told her. “I want you to give back to them. Foster and
adopt.”
She convinced her husband, Bishop W.C.
Martin, that he was part of that calling as well. Martin is the pastor
of Bennett Chapel in Possum Trot, a church of about 200 members. Being
already responsible for a congregation, he initially resisted the
idea—“I thought Donna had flipped out,” he says. Then he met Mercedes,
5, and her brother Tyler, 2.
Both children had many problems,
and Martin wondered if fostering them was the right move. “The
questions swirled around like a whirlwind inside me. How could I do
this? Could I really, truly help them? Did I really have the time, the
energy and the stuff it took to be the father these kids needed?”
Martin wrote in his book, Small Town, Big Miracle.
But when it comes to His calling, God
has a way of dealing with doubts. When Mercedes and Tyler first stepped
into the Martins’ home as foster children, Tyler ran to his new father,
gave him a hug and shouted, “Hey, Daddy!” Martin’s fears melted away.
He decided that the call was real and his wife was right.
Eventually the Martins would adopt
Mercedes, Tyler and their two siblings. The children were immediately
accepted into the church community. And many members followed suit by
fostering some of their own.
“The idea of reaching out to orphans
was no longer a far-off notion. These were orphaned kids sitting right
beside them in the pews. Beautiful kids. Well-behaved kids (after some
work)!” Martin says.
The challenge was tremendous, but the
blessings it showered on all who were involved led Martin to make
foster care and adoption a churchwide emphasis. He began preaching
about it from the pulpit: “God commands us to take care of the orphans.
The power lies in the hands of the church.”
In the first several years after the crusade began at Bennett Chapel, 72 children were adopted. The Houston Chronicle
picked up the amazing story, followed by many other newspapers and
magazines. Soon the tiny hamlet of Possum Trot was featured on Good Morning America, The 700 Club and The Oprah Winfrey Show.
Then the Fox television program Renovate My Family
came to east Texas and built the church an important facility for the
kids, Pineywood Outreach Center—a 10,000-square-foot building that
housed a regulation basketball court, full-size kitchen, playroom, and
media center with the latest computers, books and educational videos.
According to Martin, “God blessed us exceedingly abundantly above all that we could ask or think.”
Where Are They Now?
It has been 14 years since Donna
Martin’s life-changing decision started the process, and things have
calmed down quite a bit in Possum Trot. There has been only one
adoption in the last three years. But the cause has not been dropped.
Bishop Martin continues to preach
about adoption from the pulpit. The Outreach Center is still running
after-school programs and summer programs that minister to 75-175
people a day. The Food Bank still hands out boxes of groceries to
600-700 people a month.
Financially the church has hit hard
times. The support the community received during the media attention
was tremendous, but it has dropped off precipitously since. Referring
to current economic times, Martin says, “We’re not the only ones who
are suffering.”
The church is having trouble finding
the money to pay the utility bills for the outreach center. The food
bank is costing more than the church has. “I don’t want to let that
go,” he says.
Donors are needed to fund Walmart gift
cards that Martin would like to give all the children in the community
for Christmas. He also dreams of adding an educational wing to the
outreach center as well as purchasing a bus for shuttling more children
to the church.
In addition, there have been critics
of the church’s work. After an Associated Press article quoted Martin
criticizing the surrounding community for not being supportive of the
church’s efforts, he came under fire for his comments. He since has
come to see the community more positively.
“They’re embracing what we’re doing,” he says today. “They’ve got our backs.”
There has also been some speculation
in the media about the foster parents’ motivation, with claims that
many of these poor families are doing foster care to get the government
subsidy. Martin thinks that’s nonsense.
“When you foster a child, the state
gives you a subsidy every month. But when you adopt that child, they
cut that subsidy down quite a bit,” he explains.
“So we weren’t interested in the money
part of it; we were interested in getting these children into a safe
environment, to show them love, to demonstrate the love of God to them,
and to teach them that they are not an accident but that they have
purpose in their life.”
The Impact Goes On
Despite the criticism, the impact
Bennett Chapel has had on individuals is without question. The lives of
73 children, in particular, have been forever changed.
Mercedes, the Martins’ first foster
child, was taught how to steal by her biological mother, who would tell
her to walk into a grocery store and take the food they would need for
the day. When she was brought into the Martin home, Mercedes continued
to do as she was taught. She was caught numerous times stealing from
her family, her school and her church.
The Martins taught her that she didn’t
have to steal any more. They would provide her with everything she
would need. Today Mercedes, 17, is a junior in high school. She plans
to go to college to be an ultrasound technician, then she will continue
in school to become a delivery nurse. She helps in the Pineywood
Outreach Center, tutoring younger children.
Andre Brown came to live at the Lathan
house after both of his parents died within six months of each other.
Theresa Lathan and her husband, Glen, took him and his two siblings
into their home though they had a family of eight already, five of them
adopted.
Theresa didn’t know how she would be
able to handle 11 children in her very small house, but she believed in
her call from God. Today, Andre is a freshman at Sam Houston State
University.
“He never would talk to anyone when he first came to our house,” Theresa says.
“He didn’t want to get near people because he was afraid they would be taken away from him. Now he mingles with everybody.”
Shameria was abandoned at age 2 and
adopted by the Lathan family. She is now in the ninth grade and someday
wants to go to college and be a math teacher.
She says about Theresa, “She loved me
through anything I did, right or wrong.” Shameria began her life as an
abandoned child. Now she feels unconditional love.
Some of the children want to go into
the medical field, such as Mercedes, Rashaundria, Sharethea and
Shenequa. Others, such as Lovey, Tameria and Shameria, want to be
teachers.
The adoptive parents believe it is no
coincidence that so many of the children adopted into this community
now have ambitions to enter fields in which they can help people and
serve others. They have seen it all around them for their entire lives.
“All they want to do is help people,” Theresa says of her children.
People often ask the Martins how Bennett Chapel was able to do what it has done.
“It’s not how we were able to do it,
we just did it,” Bishop Martin says. “It was not something that we sat
around and thought about.
“It wasn’t about how we were gonna
make it. We did what we did because God gave us a vision to do this
thing. And we’re gonna make it.”
Marshal Younger is a writer for Focus on the Family’s popular radio show Adventures in Odyssey.
View a photo gallery of the success stories of Possum Trot’s families at photoessays.charismamag.com
NationaI Impact
The success in Possum Trot is inspiring adoptions across the U.S.
For Bishop W.C. Martin, pastor of
200-member Bennett Chapel church in Possum Trot, Texas, 73 changed
lives is not enough. He wants to help more children find homes.
So Martin is taking his message to the
country, holding speaking engagements across the U.S. Many churches
have started their own adoption programs after being inspired by Possum
Trot’s.
One is 4Kids of South Florida, a Fort
Lauderdale-based ministry started by Calvary Chapel in 1997. It unites
the local church community in orphan care, foster parenting and
adoption. Executive Director Tom Lukasik and others used the Bennett
Chapel story to inspire their 18,000-member church.
“Today, 4Kids works with 200
churches. They currently have 170 children in their care, and their
SafePlace shelter has housed more than 9,000 children,” Lukasik says.
Individuals too are inspired to
action. “Many tell me this was the message they needed to help them
make their decision to adopt,” Martin says.
In Columbus, Ohio, he spoke up for
five young children in a group home who needed a family to take them
in: “After my talk, all of them were adopted.”
Project 1.27, a Colorado organization that trains,
supports and recruits adoptive parents, has been instrumental in
getting children into loving homes.
“God has been lighting the fires of pastors all over this country on the orphan issue,” says project assistant Sarah Padbury.
Studies show 25 percent of children
who age out of the foster care system will be incarcerated within the
first two years. More than 20 percent will become homeless, while only
3 percent will earn a college degree, according to a recent Ad Council
report.
Each stat is a reason Martin refuses
to give up. To him, the message is clear: “We have all been adopted by
God. If you can’t adopt, support those who can. If we can do it in
Possum Trot, you can do it right in your church.”
Is Adoption Your Option?
What you need to know before you adopt
Renay Johnson and her husband, Dwain, already had three
children of their own when Renay learned that a local crisis pregnancy
center needed to place an African-American baby. “If the baby is a boy,
I’ll know it’s God’s will for me to say yes,” Renay told a friend.
The baby indeed was a boy. A week later, after first
signing legal documents and undergoing a background check, the Johnsons
had their new son, Demarcus. Renay says the way God moved in her life
was like a dream come true. She knows that under normal circumstances,
adopting is an extensive process.
And she’s right. Randy Martin of
Covenant Community Services, a foster care and adoption agency in
Bakersfield, Calif., says prospective parents need to educate
themselves about adoption and pray before they bring a child into the
family.
“There are plenty of children to
adopt, and we are looking for parents who will see adoption as a
ministry,” Martin says. Parents who want to adopt should be prepared to
do the following, he says:
- Contact a local adoption agency. Agencies jump-start the adoption process and place parents with children.
- Go to orientation. Prospective parents are told what to expect during the adoption process.
- Participate
in a training program. Parents fill out an application and learn
parenting skills, though they have not been introduced to the child.
- Take
part in a home study. The agency will conduct a study of the emotional
and mental stability of the family. It is a critical evaluation that
can take up to 90 days to complete.
Says Martin: “When couples don’t say they feel God’s
calling to be ‘a father to the fatherless,’ then they are doing it for
the wrong reason. Some want to adopt because they had a bad childhood
and want to make it up to a child or because a spouse insists they do
it. But we need strong, committed parents to fulfill God’s calling.”
—Valerie G. Lowe
God is shifting the church from one seasonal pIatform to another. Are we ready?
There is an uneasy feeling in
evangelicalism today that everything is changing. Long-held certitudes
are being challenged both within and without the Christian faith. The
way things were even 10 years ago is no longer the way things are today.
Western Christianity has reached a
critical juncture. We have come to the end of the line—not the end of
the line for Christianity, but the end of the line for the track we
have been on.
We are like people on a subway who have
taken a train as far as it will go. The car has stopped, but we have
not exited. We’re sitting in the terminus, waiting for the train to
start moving again.
We have two choices.
We can stay on the train that’s going
nowhere, or we can disembark, find our way through the confusing
labyrinth of the new station, locate the proper platform for continuing
our journey and catch the train that will take us farther down the line.
Changing Tracks
It reminds me of times I’ve been in Paris traveling across the city on
the metro system. If I want to get from Notre Dame to Montmartre, I
can’t do it on one train. I have to get off, find the correct platform
and catch a new train. If you’ve never done it before, it can be
confusing.
This could be a prophetic analogy for
the heightened uneasiness we’re feeling in this first part of the 21st
century. We need to transfer to a new train, and we’re not quite sure
which one.
We can be quite certain of one thing,
however: The train we have been on will not carry Christianity forward
in a compelling or engaging way—no matter how enthusiastically we sing
“Give Me That Old Time Religion” as we sit motionless on the track.
It’s easy to be disconcerted by all
this. During a time of pronounced uncertainty it is tempting to succumb
to nostalgia, to long for some point in the past that we identify as
the “glory days.” But we cannot go back.
The healthy practice of recognizing
the contributions of the past and building on them is not the same as a
regressive attempt to return to a bygone era.
Neither is revivalism the answer. Too
often it is a naive attempt to recapture a particular past. It’s like a
Renaissance fair—nice entertainment for a pleasant afternoon, but you
can’t live there.
An idealized memory of the past is not
a vision that can carry us into the future. Nostalgic reminiscing is
for those who no longer have the courage or will to creatively engage
with contemporary challenges and opportunities. All of this is related
to the critical juncture we’ve come to in the course of Western
Christianity.
Ride Over! So
then, what is this train we’re on that is stuck at the station? I think
it can be summed up as “Christianity characterized by protest.” We need
to face reality—the “protest train” has come to the end of the line.
It’s been 500 years since the
Protestant Reformation—when Christianity first boarded this protest
train. At the beginning of the line, it was a way forward from the
moribund corruption of medieval Catholicism.
But for all the good the Reformation
did (and it was absolutely necessary!) we must understand it for what
it was. It was a debate between Roman Catholics and Protestant
reformers over the theology and practice of the medieval church, a
debate among Christians within Christendom.
And that’s all well and good.
But we no longer live in that
Christendom—the one in which Christianity was the default assumption of
an entire age, continent and culture. We live in an era that is, if not
post-Christian, certainly post-Christendom.
Yet we make the mistake of trying to
engage our postmodern secular culture in the same way the reformers
engaged medieval Catholicism—through protest. This approach doesn’t
make sense and is no longer tenable.
The Reformation, though it brought
necessary reform, placed us on a trajectory to become angry protestors.
Protest is deeply ingrained in our identity. It’s in our DNA. But
Protestant reform is no longer the central issue and is not the
problem. The problem is our uncharitable and ugly protest attitude.
Testy Passengers? To
attempt to engage post-Enlightenment secular people with the gospel of
Jesus Christ by protesting their sin and secularism is madness. It’s a
method guaranteed to fail. It is simply not the way for the church to
move forward. We are in danger of being reduced to angry protesters
sitting in the station on a train going nowhere, shouting at people who
long ago stopped listening to us.
If we are going to persuade a
skeptical world of the gospel of Jesus Christ and make a compelling
case for Christianity in this century, we will have to do so on their terms. We can no longer pretend to be living in medieval Christendom or frontier America.
Simply citing chapter and verse and
shouting, “The Bible says so!” is going to be largely ineffective.
Telling a secular world that does not possess an a priori acceptance of Scripture that Jesus is the way because John 14:6 says so is seen as circular reasoning and unconvincing.
To persuade postmodern Westerners that Jesus is the
way we must actually demonstrate the Jesus way as a viable alternative
lifestyle. This lifestyle will have to be characterized, not by angry
protest and polarizing politics, but by faith and hope and—most of
all—forgiving love.
Because of our tradition of protest
inherited from the Reformation, as well as the American Revolution, we
have an ingrained infatuation for the angry dissenter who can “tell it
like it is.” Whether it’s delivered by a pundit, politician or
preacher, the rant has become something of a contemporary art form.
But this kind of populism plays well
only with those who already agree with us. It’s cathartic and can
“energize the base,” as we say, but in the end the angry preachers
stuck in a paradigm of protest only further alienate an already
disinterested culture. They deepen the destructive “Us vs. Them”
attitude endemic in American evangelicalism.
Have we embraced, due to our
frightened response to uncertainty and shifting culture, an angry “Ann
Coulter Christianity” and made apostles of Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck
and Sean Hannity without recognizing they are simply entertainers and
profiteers in America’s culture war? If so, we had better disembark the
protest train before we are marginalized into complete irrelevance.
Now that we are a full decade into the
third Christian millennium, it’s time to take stock of a movement that
in Western culture isn’t moving forward much anymore. How then have
American evangelicals come to be identified?
Largely by our protests and our politics. We are mostly known for what we are against
and what political positions we hold. We have unwittingly allowed our
movement to be defined in the negative and to be co-opted as a useful
tool in the cynical world of partisan politics.
Excess Baggage But
don’t we have something better to do? Don’t we have some good news to
tell? Isn’t it time for us to become identified by something more
refreshing and more imaginative than angry protest and partisan
politics? Might it not be time for a new reformation? And this time,
not a reformation in the form of protest, but one in some other form?
The purpose of reformation actually is re-formation—to recover a true form. What is the true form of Christianity? It is the cruciform—the shape of the cross. The hope I see for Christianity in the 21st century is in a “cruciform reformation.”
Instead of using protest as a pattern,
what if the church reformed itself according to the cruciform? What if
we responded to hostility and criticism, not with angry retaliation,
but in the Christ-like form of forgiving love? What if instead of
“fighting for our rights” we laid down our rights and in love simply
prayed, “Father, forgive them”?
Or ask yourself these questions: Does
the protest paradigm look like the cruciform? Does the Christian who
wants to protest every perceived slight with an angry petition remind
you of the Christ who forgave His enemies from the cross? Does our
grasping for power and privilege conform to the image of the crucified
Christ?
Five hundred years ago Martin Luther
and the other reformers looked to Scripture as the basis for reforming
the church. I suggest we do the same. And I suggest we center our
reading in the Gospels.
The great 20th century Swiss
theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar wrote: “Being disguised under the
disfigurement of an ugly crucifixion and death, the Christ upon the
cross is paradoxically the clearest revelation of who God is.”
He’s correct. The cross is the full
and final revelation of God. His nature of forgiving love is supremely
demonstrated at the cross. When Jesus could have summoned 12 legions of
angels to exact vengeance, He instead prayed for His enemies to be
forgiven.
Vengeance was canceled in favor of
love. Retaliation was overruled in favor of reconciliation. Protest was
abandoned in favor of forgiveness. This is the cruciform.
That evangelical Christianity has
become identified by protest and politics instead of forgiving love is
nothing short of scandalous. The disreputable behavior of celebrity
preachers notwithstanding, the greatest scandal in the evangelical
church is that we are no longer associated with the practice of radical
forgiveness.
It should be obvious that forgiveness
lies at the heart of the Christian faith. That should be obvious from
the simple fact that at the most crucial moments the gracious melody of
forgiveness is heard as the recurring theme of Christianity.
Consider how prevalent forgiveness is in Christianity’s seminal moments and sacred texts.
As Jesus teaches His disciples to pray
they are instructed to say, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive
those who trespass against us” (see Luke 11:4). As Jesus hangs on the
cross we hear Him pray—almost unbelievably: “Father, forgive them”
(Luke 23:34, NKJV). In His first resurrection appearance to His
disciples, Jesus says, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are
forgiven them” (John 20:23). And in the Apostles’ Creed we are taught
to confess, “I believe in the forgiveness of sins.”
Whether we look to The Lord’s Prayer,
or Jesus’ death or resurrection, or the great creeds of the church, we
are never far from the theme of forgiveness. If Christianity isn’t
about forgiveness, it’s about nothing at all. And I am afraid that if
we don’t leave the protest train, we are in danger of making
Christianity about ... nothing at all!
Tickets, Please We
have come to the end of an era. We are in a time of transition. Things
are uncertain. Old assumptions are being re-evaluated. We feel
uncomfortable. We are trying to make our way through a confusing metro
station we’ve never been to. We are tempted to cling to the familiar
and stay on the train that has brought us here.
That is not the way forward. We have
to find the new platform and catch the next train. The platform is
forgiveness. The train is a cruciform reformation. If we leave the
paradigm of protest, position ourselves on a platform of radical
forgiveness and get on board with a cruciform reformation, the 21st
century will be full of hope, promise and unparalleled opportunity for
the church of Jesus Christ.
Brian Zahnd is pastor of Word of Life Church in St. Joseph, Mo., and author of What to Do on the Worst Day of Your Life. His next book, Unconditional? (Charisma House), is scheduled to release in January.
Listen to Brian Zahnd elaborate on the future of the church at zahnd.charismamag.com
The Protestant Reformation
A brief look at a major shift in church history
The Protestant Reformation began in Germany in 1517 with Martin Luther, a Saint Augustine friar and professor. Luther wrote and published The Ninety-Five Theses as a protest of clerical abuses aimed at the hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church.
He is said to have posted his Ninety-Five Theses
to the main door of The Castle Church in Wittenberg. At the time, the
church was a repository for one of Europe’s largest collections of
Catholic relics. The storehouse included some extreme oddities such as
vials of the milk of the Virgin Mary—but viewing the antiquities was
said to bring official relief from temporal punishment for sins in
purgatory.
However, Luther was primarily disgusted
with “indulgences.” The Catholic Church sold these as part of a
fundraising scheme and propagated them upon the people in both
convoluted language and theology:
Buying an indulgence would enable
the payee to partly or wholly avoid—depending on specific Church
restrictions—God’s temporal punishment due for sins committed but
forgiven.
Numerous religious voices fell in line to support
Luther’s initial protest. The discontent spread quickly, due largely to
the efficiency of the printing press. It enabled copies of The Ninety-Five Theses and other documents and ideas to be disseminated widely.
Paralleling the events of the
Reformation in Germany was a similar movement in Switzerland under
Ulrich Zwingli, a Zurich pastor.
Some of Zwingli’s followers, however, believed the German Reformation was too conservative.
Ultimately, ensuing protests in
assorted locations spawned new groups or movements—such as Calvinism,
which has its basis in the writings of John Calvin, a French theologian.
In 1521, Luther was excommunicated from the Church by Pope Leo X, who had also condemned the Reformation. click to view full-size image
Injustice moved the Motown artist to
write “What’s Going On?” and activate his generation. Shouldn’t the
church be doing the same?
The dawn of the 1970s was a time when
life as many Americans knew it was rapidly changing. Widespread
disenchantment with materialism and the American Dream of the 1950s had
jolted the nation’s social consciousness. A generation of youth had
found its revolutionary voice and was confronting oppression
domestically and abroad.
The country was divided over a war on
foreign soil, there was social decay at home between young and old, and
racial tension simmered from the injustice of civil rights violations.
It was as if current events were conspiring against a generation.
Amid this whirlwind of unrest Motown
artist Marvin Gaye captured the ethos of the age with his 1971 song
“What’s Going On?” It was an impassioned cry for justice in which he
appealed to the nation’s conscience. The song didn’t fit the pop-music
template, but Gaye was determined to release it anyway and was
vindicated when the song landed at No. 2 on the Top 40 charts in 1971.
“Mother, mother, there’s too many of
you crying,” Gaye sang. “Brother, brother, there’s far too many of you
dying / Father, father, we don’t need to escalate / War is not the
answer / For only love can conquer hate / Picket lines and picket
signs, don’t punish me with brutality / Talk to me, so you can see /
We’ve got to find a way to bring some lovin’ here today.”
Fast-forward to 2010, and Gaye’s plea
feels just as timely. The soundtrack of the ’70s is still speaking to
us. We’re asking: “Where’s the lovin’ here today?”
Where’s the lovin’ in the church’s
music? Where’s the kind of lovin’ that rights wrongs and reconciles
relationships in our world today?
Our generation has markings similar to
Gaye’s generation—war, genocide, street gangs, ethnocentrism,
generational poverty, famine, AIDS, substandard housing and education,
rampant materialism, religious hatred, environmental degradation.
Because the gospel is the story of a
loving God who reconciles people into a loving relationship with
Himself and one another, justice fits into His story as Christ rights
the wrongs that prevent those relationships. Worship, whether as music
or lifestyle, should reflect this facet of Jesus’ mission.
Our Story or His Story
Too often instead our worship is
directed inwardly and turns into a distorted, selfish facsimile. Our
songs long for God to meet personal needs and mediate justice on our
own behalf. Many of them have been radically reduced to individualized
laundry lists of wants. Consider these lyrics from popular contemporary
worship songs:
- “I can feel [the presence] [the Spirit] [the power] of the Lord / And I’m gonna get my blessing right now.”
- “In my
life I’m soaked in blessing / And in heaven there’s a great reward / As
for me and my house, we’re gonna serve the Lord / I’ve got Jesus, Jesus
/ He calls me for His own / And He lifts me, lifts me / Above the world
I know.”
- “(I
got the) anointing / (Got God’s) favor / (And we’re still) standing / I
want it all back / Give me my stuff back / Give me my stuff / Give me
my stuff back / I want it all / I want that.”
By contrast, three instances of
“spoken-word lyrics” recorded in the Bible to accompany Jesus’ birth
read much differently. They reverberate through history.
- “He
has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted the lowly. He
has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent away
empty” (Luke 1:52-53, NKJV). What of the Rolls-Royce driving,
private-jet flying, multiple-mansion dwelling, high-fashion wearing
modern Christian profiteers? What about the good life to which their
songs and sermons aspire?
- “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests” (Luke 2:14, NIV). The peace they sang of is shalom, and favor
refers to “the year of the Lord’s favor” embraced within Christ’s
mission (see Luke 4:18-19; Isaiah 61). More than the absence of strife,
shalom is what the Prince of Peace came to re-establish. The condition of sin robs us of shalom,
but Jesus’ justice restores it. When we attempt to co-opt Jesus’ favor
as a rationale to get more affluence, we cheapen everything the gospel
represents.
- “A
light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Your people
Israel. ... ‘This Child is destined for the fall and rising of many in
Israel, and for a sign which will be spoken against (yes, a sword will
pierce through your own soul also), that the thoughts of many hearts
may be revealed’” (Luke 2:32, 34-35, NKJV). Not much of our
contemporary touchy-feely hoopla here either.
Not one of these “songs” celebrates the
themes that predominate in our weekly worship services. There is no
mention of “me,” except in the context of calling and responsibility
beyond oneself; no focus on “blessing,” except as it relates to our
ability being empowered by God for blessing others; no pursuit of
personal comfort—rather, the promise is given of a sword that will
pierce one’s soul.
What Would Jesus Sing?
The soundtrack that accompanied heaven’s
greatest lyrics—the Word made flesh (see John 1:14)—bears little
resemblance to popular songs we sing in our churches. When Jesus came
and lived among us, His manner of doing so invited shame and ridicule,
not material bounty.
He lived among us as a child of poverty
(born in a barn); political refugee (in Egypt); social pariah (survivor
of a capital crime: unmarried pregnancy); ghetto immigrant (“What good
comes from Nazareth?”); and blue-collar worker (carpenter) who was a
subject of an imperialistic colonizer (Rome).
Many of the people whose lives He
changed had lived unfavorably or unlawfully in their society. His
friends and followers included Mary Magdalene (ex-prostitute), Matthew
and Zacchaeus (ex-crooked bureaucrats and tax collectors), and Simon
Peter (ex-insurrectionist and card-carrying member of a terror
organization in Palestine).
If Jesus actually were to show up today
at one of our stylized worship experiences, He might well sing a
different tune, one that sounds more like the warning He gave His
people through the Old Testament prophet Amos:
“I can’t stand your religious meetings.
I’m fed up with your conferences and conventions. I want nothing to do
with your religion projects, your pretentious slogans and goals. I’m
sick of your fund-raising schemes, your public relations and image
making. I’ve had all I can take of your noisy ego-music.
“When was the last time you sang to me?
Do you know what I want? I want justice—oceans of it. I want
fairness—rivers of it. That’s what I want. That’s all I want” (Amos
5:21-24, The Message).
If all God wants is oceans of justice rather than
egocentric noise, then a broken world’s needs must reclaim center stage
from our personal blessings during corporate worship experiences. In
our churches, many of us remain mute on such issues as public
repentance for neglecting the poor. Some of us have abandoned prophetic
moments of opportunity in lieu of religious protocol.
Traditions That Count
But there is good news too. More and
more music ministers today across traditions are giving voice to
justice within worship services. Jason Upton (“Poverty”), Aaron
Niequist (“Love Can Change the World”) and Derek Webb (“Rich Young
Ruler”) are just a few.
Historically, some denominational traditions have
embraced justice-oriented hymns and music. The song “O Healing River”
(1964) is sung to inspire believers in organizations such as Ecumenical
Advocacy Alliance (e-alliance.ch) that work to establish justice in various social contexts.
Contemporary Christian music pioneer Keith Green was an
anomaly among evangelicals through the 1970s and early 1980s, writing
songs that called Christians out and challenged the church to action,
such as “Asleep in the Light”:
“Oh, bless me, Lord / Bless me, Lord /
You know it’s all I ever hear / No one aches / No one hurts / No one even sheds one tear / ... / Open up, open up /
And give yourself away / You’ve seen the need / You hear the cry / So how can you delay?”
Jesus’ mission to bring good news to the poor, sight to
the blind and liberty to the oppressed should define our worship, be it
expressed in music or lifestyle. Music, because we feel it, penetrates
our hearts and stimulates a response. It ennobles ideas, emotes passion
and defines eras. Gaye’s opus reminds us of that.
Reflecting Christ’s purpose through our
lives will require the courage to break free from convention, perceive
the new things God is doing in our midst and zealously pursue them.
What’s stopping us?
Jeremy Del Rio is an
attorney and consultant for youth development, social justice and
cultural engagement. He is a co-founder of 20/20 Vision for Schools, a
campaign to transform public education (jeremydelrio.com). Louis Carlo is
associate pastor at Abounding Grace Ministries in New York City,
adjunct professor at Alliance Theological Seminary, as well as a
photographer and occasional filmmaker (agmin.org).
Listen to Jeremy Del Rio’s sermon “Vision for a New Day” at podcasts.charismamag.com
More Than a Feeling 6 ways to worship ‘in spirit and truth’
As God’s worshippers, how can we navigate the paths of
justice in our congregational gatherings? It will mean matching the
mission of Jesus with the music and expressions of worship we embrace
and facilitating worship as lifestyle. It may also require us to take
practical steps toward personal change:
1) Refocus. Reductionist
Western worship is possible because we have lost a sense of awe and
reverence for who God is, fashioning instead a God in our own image.
Author Mark Labberton writes in his book The Dangerous Act of Worship:
“The God we seek is the God we want, not the God who is. We fashion a
god who blesses without obligation, who lets us feel his presence
without living his life, who stands with us and never against us, who
gives us what we want, when we want it.” Let’s refocus on who really
matters.
2) Repent.
The failure to incorporate laments for justice into corporate worship
underscores that we misunderstand what worship really is. It is neither
the rhythmic pursuit of a euphoric high nor the somber embrace of
silent reflection. Jesus describes true worshippers as those who
worship “in spirit and truth” (John 4:23, NKJV). Paul says: “Do not
conform to this world”—trendy fashions and such—”but be transformed by
the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and
acceptable and perfect will of God” (Rom. 12:2). Where our will
conforms to the world’s patterns and trumps God’s will, let’s repent
for rejecting true worship.
3) Remember. The holy
God we revere is also our righteous king who exacts justice on behalf
of His people. Moses and Miriam remembered when they praised Him for
demonstrating justice in His dealings with Pharaoh and liberating His
people (see Ex. 15). Hannah remembered when she thanked God for His
justice on her behalf (see 1 Sam. 2). King David remembered when he
declared, “The Lord reigns!” and embraced a heavenly king who ruled
above him and all others. Let’s also remember that our Lord Himself
loves justice (see Is. 61:8).
4) Reconnect. No longer
should worship gatherings embrace the first part of the Great
Commandment, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul
and strength,” at the expense of the second part, “Love your neighbor
as yourself.” Let’s reconnect His love into a coherent whole.
5) Realign. Justice and
worship at their core each deal with power and the abuses of power. By
emphasizing God’s kingship, His rule over all creation, and His
impeccable character, we intentionally create space for the Most High
to address the fallen powers in our churches, states, nation and world.
Let’s realign our congregations under God’s power rather than under the
abusive power structures dominating the world.
6) Rediscover.
As we identify and proclaim the laments of marginalized people with a
deep understanding that their cries are our cries, we will begin to see
our perspectives shift and the power of God move in ways that we never
would have imagined. Let’s rediscover the unleashed, all-powerful God,
not our tempered and controlled god-in-a-box. Like Aslan of Narnia, He
may not be safe, but He is good.
Voices of Justice
Keith Green Not
one to mince words in God’s defense, Green wrote numerous songs that
called out fellow Christians, challenging them to action
Sara Groves She
has toured to benefit relief organization Food for the Hungry and the
Christian human-rights group International Justice Mission
Jason Upton His
songs can be raw, unpolished, unplanned. Critics call him a music
artist to love or avoid. He says: “Most of my songs are prayers.”
Misty Edwards She
writes many of her songs during times of spontaneous worship. “I think
worship needs to change so we linger until we encounter God.”
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