Preston Sprinkle's Blog, page 3

Christians everywhere have debated whether violence is ever justified. Some make the case that it’s never okay to use violence, while others say violence is necessary as a last resort to stop evil. For the most part, both sides agree that the general rhythm of Christianity should be one of nonviolence. We love our neighbors and enemies alike, and we give our left cheeks to the one who strikes us on our right cheek. That’s the general posture of the Christian faith, and most Bible believing Christians agree with this. 

Even though some Christians will argue that violence allowed in certain circumstances, a plain reading of the Bible shows that true evil can never be conquered by human acts of violence. Take terrorism, for example. We could nuke ISIS off the face of the earth, but this doesn’t mean that we have destroyed the devil—the true face of evil. Satan could use the façade of world peace to cover the eyes of those seeking God and he laughs in the face of nuclear weapons. You can’t fight against—let alone, destroy—a non-flesh-and-blood enemy by using flesh-and-blood weapons. It’s like spraying a forest fire with a squirt gun filled with gasoline. It may seem like you’re trying to stop the destruction. But in reality, you’re only perpetuating it. 

There may be a place to use violence as a last resort. Or they may not be. Christians will continue to debate the role of violence in the Christian faith. But the one thing is clear: the ultimate root of all evil was defeated through the cross of Jesus Christ, the one who suffered at the hands of violence, rather than destroying his enemy with the sword. 

There is power in suffering. When early Christians were being persecuted by Rome, the apostle John told them to hold strong. Keep the faith. Maintain your allegiance to Jesus. Don’t give into Rome. After all, their suffering was an unforeseen means of defeating evil, even if it seemed that they had lost. The apostle John says that “they” (the first-century Christian martyrs) “have conquered him” (the devil, the true source and empowerment of all evil) “by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death.” 

They have conquered the devil by dying. In God’s kingdom, suffering contains unforeseen power to defeat evil, even if it looks like evil is defeating you.

"And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death" (Rev 12:11) 

“Here are your keys,” muttered the secretary when I arrived to pick up the keys to my office at Aberdeen University, where I would be studying for my doctorate in theology. “It looks like you’re in The Old Brewery.”

Intrigued by the name, I later found out that it reflected the building’s original function. Aberdeen was founded in the 15th century and used to train monks for ministry. In the brewery, monks brewed vast quantities of Scottish ale, which was served by the liter at mealtimes. And here I was, a post-fundamentalist Ph.D. student studying the Scriptures in a malted sanctuary where late medieval Bible college students once clapped mugs together in an act of worship.

Throughout Christian history, alcohol was rarely a taboo as it is in some circles today. John Calvin had a stipend of 250 gallons of wine per year written into his church contract. Martin Luther’s wife was a famed brewer of beer, which certainly won Martin’s heart. And the Guinness family created their renowned Irish Stout as an act of worship to Jesus. From Bordeaux to Berlin, wine and beer have always been part of church tradition. But what was once considered the nectar of heaven was later condemned as the devil’s libation.

Moderation not Abstinence

Even though some Christians advocate for the total abstinence of alcohol as a moral mandate for all believers, the Bible never requires all believers to abstain from alcohol. It condemns drunkenness and being enslaved to wine (Ephesians 5:18; Titus 2:3), but it never says that tee-totaling is the better way to obey God. In fact, the Bible never says that abstaining from alcohol is the wisest way to avoid getting drunk. Think about it. Alcoholism has been rampant through every age, but the Bible never says that all believers should therefore refrain from drinking.

If Christians want to forbid all alcohol consumption to avoid drunkenness, then to be consistent, they should also avoid making a lot of money to guard against the crushing sin of materialism and the misuse of wealth.

If Christians want to forbid all alcohol consumption to avoid drunkenness, then to be consistent, they should also avoid making a lot of money to guard against the crushing sin of materialism and the misuse of wealth.

What About our Testimony?

I sometimes hear that when Christians drink, it ruins their testimony. But quite honestly, I’ve never understood this line of thinking. It’s one thing if you’ve struggled with alcoholism or are ministering in a Muslim country, but for the most part, most non-Christians I know are turned off by the arbitrary dos and don’ts created by modern Christians. I’m not convinced that if my unbelieving neighbor sees me slipping into a pub, I will lose much traction to my Gospel witness. In many cases, the Gospel will shine brighter when you break down wrong assumptions about Christianity by having a beer with your neighbor.

When we strip away all the man-made clutter that dims the Gospel, the full glory of Jesus shines much brighter. A good chunk of the dying world that’s rejected Christianity hasn’t said no to Jesus, but no to a pharisaical version of Him. Some people have been turned off by the Gospel because they’ve thought that becoming a Christ-follower meant giving up having a beer with your friends after work. If this is the “good news” we preach, then the true beauty of a crucified and risen King will become covered in the fog of a man-made, pharisaical “don’t drink” gospel. AA didn’t hang on a cross for your sins and abstaining from alcohol won’t give you resurrection life. Any Christianese, man-made, unbiblical footnotes to the gospel are actually a distraction and offense to the Gospel.

Lower Alcohol Content?

Now, some say that wine in the Bible was nothing more than grape juice and therefore neither Jesus nor the Biblical writers advocated drinking alcohol. Others say that wine was so diluted that it hardly contained any alcohol. But neither of these views can be substantiated by what the Scriptures actually say. If wine was really unfermented grape juice, then why did Paul warn the Ephesians: “Do not get drunk with grape juice, which is debauchery, but be filled by the Spirit?” This doesn’t make sense. It is true that wine back then probably had a lower ABV than today’s stuff. But whatever the alcohol content, people were quite able to get smashed by drinking too much of it (Proverbs 20:1; Isaiah 5:11). Still, the Bible never says not to drink it.

There’s another alcoholic beverage mentioned in the Bible called “strong drink. The Hebrew word for “strong drink,” shakar, refers to fermented barley, which is why some translations call it “beer.” Shakar had an ABV of around 6-12 percent, similar to a Belgium Tripel Ale or a Double IPA. Like all alcoholic beverages, the Bible prohibits abusing beer (Isaiah 5:11; 28:7; Proverbs 20:1; 31:4). But in moderation, drinking beer was encouraged (Proverbs 31:6). In fact, Deuteronomy 14:26 actually commands Israelites to use some of their tithe money to buy some beers and celebrate before the Lord. (Ever hear that verse being read as the ushers are passing the plates?) They were also commanded to offer up two liters of beer to God six days a week and even more on the Sabbath (see Numbers 28:7-10). This is why the absence of beer (and wine) was an outcome of God’s judgment on the nation.

Wine as a Blessing

But the Bible goes further than admitting that drinking is simply allowed. Throughout Scripture, the production and consumption of beer and wine are often connected to the covenant promises of God.

Under the old covenant, wine is a blessing (Deut 7:13; 11:14) and the absence of wine a curse (28:39, 51). When Israel looked to the future, God promises to flood them wine flowing from the mountaintops (Amos 9:14; Joel 3:18) and vats brimming with fresh wine (Joel 2:19, 24).

Jesus signals the beginning of such blessings by creating an over-abundance (150 gallons) of wine at Cana (John 2:1-10). And on the eve of his death, He sanctified a cup of wine as “the new covenant in my blood” (Luke 22:14-23). When Christ comes back, He’ll prepare “well-aged wine” (Isaiah 25:6)—the stuff I only notice on the top shelf but can never afford—and for theological reasons it will be served, as at Cana, in abundance.

There’s a growing tendency, however, among some younger evangelicals to celebrate their freedom without discipline.

Although a good beer and rich wine are blessings from God, they should be consumed with caution. There’s a growing tendency, however, among some younger evangelicals to celebrate their freedom without discipline. These young, restless, and slightly inebriated libertines are doing some great things for the Kingdom. They’re feeding the poor, living in community and planting authentic churches—or missional communities—all to the glory of God.

Yes, God cares about the poor; He also cares about your sobriety. Enjoying alcohol in moderation takes discipline, and many beer drinkers, I hate to say it, aren’t known for their discipline. A good glass of beer can be celebratory; it doesn’t belong in the hands of an undisciplined 16-year-old playing video games in his mom’s basement. Belgium ale is strong and complex. Savor it, sanctify it, and let it meditate on your palate. Give glory to God, not just to your thirst, when enjoying the blessings that flow from Eden. Drunkenness may not be at the top of God’s list of most heinous sins; neither should it be tossed aside as a relic of American fundamentalism.

Drinking alcohol without celebrating the Cross and Kingdom is theologically anemic. Abusing alcohol mocks the blood of Christ and scoffs at God’s holiness. But moderate, intentional, celebratory and reflective drinking of wine and beer, which contemplates the crucified and risen King and anticipates our future glory, is rooted in the grace that poured from Christ’s veins on Calvary.

I originally wrote this post for Relevant Magazine in 2014. 

Hey Friends, 

This is a bit of surreal announcement. I’ve been involved in education as a student or teacher since I entered Kindergarten at the age of 6. I’m now 40. And as of last month, I’m no longer a formal educator.
 
For the last 7 years, I’ve been working for Eternity Bible College. For 5 years as an Associate Professor of Biblical Studies and for the last 2 years as the Vice President for the Boise extension site. But as of this month, I’m no longer employed by Eternity Bible College (EBC). Here’s the backstory.
 
I moved up to Boise in May 2014 to plant an extension campus for EBC. It’s been a joyful adventure and I’ve seen God work in many ways. Most of all, this extension site has allowed me to get to know so many awesome pastors and leaders in the Boise area, along with the students that God has brought our way. However, even though God brought some amazing students to EBC Boise, there simply wasn’t enough of them to justify the extension site. We started with a rather low enrollment last Fall (2015), and this Fall (2016) we didn’t have enough students to offer any classes at all.  I was faced with the question: should we keep the extension site open?
 
Looking back over the past year, I have spent more and more time recruiting students and fundraising, and less and less time doing the things I feel called to do and believe God has gifted me in (teaching, speaking, writing, etc.). To make EBC Boise succeed, I would have to keep recruiting, keep fundraising, keep doing stuff that I’m not really gifted at and don’t feel called to do. Plus, since I’ve been doing this for the last 3 years and the enrollment is not only much lower than expected but on a downward trajectory, I didn’t have much evidence that putting in more energy would make it work.
 
I truly thought that something like EBC was needed in the Treasure Valley (the greater Boise metro), but the increasingly low enrollment suggest that it’s not.
 
In light of all these factors, I suggested to the board that we transition our presence in Boise from a fully staffed extension campus to a more hybrid church-based model. In short, it wouldn’t make sense for EBC to keep me on the payroll. In some ways, I guess you can say I sort of let myself go. 
 
Now, even as I say that, I want to boldly and aggressively say: I love EBC. I believe in EBC. My time at EBC has been amazing and if you ask me which Bible college you should attend, I’m going to say “EBC.” I know of no other Christian college committed to debt-free education, in depth biblical teaching, generous engagement with evangelical thought, and a passion for heart transformation. I love the staff. I love the faculty. And, most of all, I love all the students I’ve been honored to teach. Even though I’m no longer employed by EBC, you’ll still hear me talk and write about EBC. It truly is an amazing college. I wish more people could experience our vibrant and profoundly relational education.
 
So what’s next for me? Well, I’m not 100% sure. I do have several writing projects and speaking events that will keep me busy through the end of the year. And I’m talking to several people about creating church-based education on questions related to faith, sexuality, and gender. (Stay tuned, this could be amazing!) But we’ll see where I’m going to be next year, or the year after that. I’m open to suggestions.
 
I truly do appreciate your thoughts and prayers as my family and I enter into a scary, yet exciting, time of transition.

Grace and peace,

When I was in seminary, my professors taught me how to defend the faith. I learned how to navigate questions about the apparent contradictions in the Bible and how to respond to scientific and historical problems related to the Christian faith. I became skilled at proving Jesus’s resurrection and the superiority of the Christian worldview over other religious views. I studied the history of the Bible and could prove that it was true. I became an apologist—a defender of the Christian faith.

Over the years I’ve found that my analytical arguments don’t carry as much power as they used to (or, perhaps, as much as I thought they did). People aren’t as compelled by intellectual reasons for Christianity. I’ve seen people shrug their shoulders after I’ve proven that the Bible doesn’t contradict itself. Logic has its place, and Christianity will always be a logical religion. But there’s something more powerful than logical apologetics. I call it the apologetic of love.

Everyone knows that Jesus was big on love. It’s one of his favorite subjects, and one can hardly be a follower of Jesus without pursuing love. But there’s a certain apologetic to love. Love is the greatest defense of Christianity. Jesus says that the world will believe that the Father has sent him if his followers are unified (“that they will all be one, just as you and I are one…” John 17:21). And love is the ultimate bond of unity.

Christians don’t have to agree on everything. We don’t have to love the same hobbies, or foods, or sports, or music bands. We don’t even have to like the same Christian authors or preachers or worship leaders. We don’t have to belong to the same local church and our denominations could look very different. Christianity is a religion of difference; beautified diversity. After all, unity doesn’t mean uniformity. We don’t need to become cookie-cutter Christians to be unified, since it’s our love that binds us as one. Love of Christ, love of neighbor, love of enemy, and an unconditionally committed love of one another. “This is his commandment,” John says, “that we believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another” (1 John 3:23). And “he who does not love his brother…cannot love God” (1 John 4:20).

All of our analytical apologetics and robust defenses of the faith will be vindicated by our love.

I originally published this blog as a devotional for Sword of the Spirit ministries. Check out their website for more great resources! 

God loves sex. The first two commands recorded in the Bible are “have dominion over creation,” and then “be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:26-28). In other words, rule the world and have lots of sex. Not a bad day at the office.

Whoever said God was some cosmic killjoy? God created sex and declared it to be “good.”

Within Christian circles, it’s assumed God only wants us to have sex if we’re married. Sex outside of marriage is one of the clearest, unquestionable prohibitions in Christianity. But where does the Bible teach this? Can you name a verse?

Many will race to the Ten Commandments: “You shall not commit adultery” (Exodus 20:14). But adultery means having sex with someone else’s spouse; it doesn’t refer to an unmarried couple sleeping together. Likewise, when Jesus condemns lust in Matthew 5, He does so in the context of adultery. In other words, we should not sexually desire another person’s spouse as our own.

God loves sex. But He’s designed us to have sex within the boundaries of a marriage covenant.

Others might turn to Leviticus 18. This “sex chapter” lists all sorts of sexual prohibitions including incest, bestiality, adultery and other sexual sins. It’s fascinating, though, that nowhere in Leviticus 18 is sex before marriage condemned.

Some might argue that when the Bible condemns “fornication” or “sexual immorality” this includes sex before marriage. And maybe it does. But this needs to be shown and not just assumed. Again, the Old Testament’s most detailed list of sexually immoral acts (Leviticus 18) does not include sex before marriage.

Before you book a hotel room and call up your girlfriend with the good news, please keep reading! Yes, the Bible does say that all forms of sex outside of marriage are wrong. Here’s how.

The early chapters of Genesis give a basic blueprint for marriage, and even though it never says “Thou shall not have sex before marriage,” it certainly suggests that sex outside of marriage flows against God’s design. God’s command to “be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1) is joyfully heeded by Adam and Eve after they are joined in marriage (Genesis 2:24-25; 4:1, 25). The same goes for their descendants. Noah, Shem, Abram and others all have sex and therefore have children within the confines of a marriage covenant.

When they turn to other women, such as Abraham’s sexual relations with Hagar (Genesis 16), the act was not considered an affair. Hagar was more like a modern day surrogate mother who bears a child in the place of an infertile wife. Nevertheless, these acts don’t appear to be sanctioned by God, even though they were widely accepted in Israel’s culture.

Extra-marital sex is never looked upon with divine approval in the Old Testament, no matter how bright the love-flame burns.

Throughout the Old Testament, it’s assumed that God designed sex for marriage. Deuteronomy condemns a soon to be wife who has had sex before marriage (Deuteronomy 22:13-19), and the love poetry contained in the Song of Songs delights in the joys of sex but reserves it for a husband and wife. Extra-marital sex is never looked upon with divine approval in the Old Testament, no matter how bright the love-flame burns.

The Jewish tradition that flows from the Old Testament and cradles the New Testament was even more explicit in condemning pre-marital sex. For instance, it was believed that Joseph (Jacob’s favorite son) was adamant that he and his future wife, Asenath, remain pure until their wedding day. There’s nothing in the Old Testament that validates such concern; Joseph’s marriage to Asenath is only mentioned in passing (Genesis 41:45, 50-52). But the later retelling of Joseph and Asenath reflects a widespread Jewish view: Sex before marriage is sin.

And this is the ethical world that Jesus and His followers were raised in. Jews and Christians had many disagreements about what constitutes right and wrong (food laws, circumcision, strict Sabbath keeping, etc.). But when it came to sexual immorality, they found much in common. Sex before marriage was clearly condemned in Judaism, and the same goes for Christianity.

For instance, Paul—a Jew—argued that the only proper outlet for sexual desire is within marriage: “because of the temptation to sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband” (1 Corinthians 7:2). Again, if unmarried people can’t control their sexual desires, Paul doesn’t tell them to head to the brothel, or to their boyfriend, or their betrothed loved one. Rather, “they should marry” since “it is better to marry than to burn with passion” (1 Corinthians 7:9). In other words, we should not satisfy our sexual passion with someone other than a spouse.

Paul says in another passage: “For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God” (1 Thessalonians 4:3-5).

Paul’s words here can’t be limited to adultery. They clearly include all forms of sex outside of marriage. We know this because the Gentiles of the Roman world Paul refers to actually abhorred adultery and considered it a crime. However, sexual activity outside of marriage was perfectly fine—as long as it wasn’t with another man’s wife. So when Paul tells Christians to not engage in “the passion of lust like the Gentiles,” this can’t be limited to adultery. What separates Christians from other Romans was that Christians, like their Jewish brothers, believed that sex outside of marriage was sin.

God’s scandalous grace covers all of our wrongdoings, and He dishes out such grace liberally

Many other passages in the New Testament confirm what we see in the letters of Paul. Revelation 14:4 assumes that unmarried Christian men who desire to be faithful are not having sex. Matthew 1:18-19 celebrates the chastity of Joseph and Mary. And Hebrews 13:4 considers sex outside of marriage to be immoral: “Let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled, for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterous.” This verse can’t just be limited to adultery, since both “sexually immoral” and “adulterous” are listed.

God loves sex. But He’s designed us to have sex within the boundaries of a marriage covenant. To violate God’s design in an effort to lay hold of creation’s pleasure is not just foolish, but actually rejects the delights God wants us to enjoy. Sex outside of marriage mocks the Creator’s will and elevates human desire over God’s wisdom.

Christians can mess up and receive God’s free pardon. God’s scandalous grace covers all of our wrongdoings, and He dishes out such grace liberally. But it’s one thing to struggle and fail, and quite another to call sin good and wrongdoing righteousness. Christians—genuine Christians—must strive to live in line with the Creator’s intentions and celebrate the good gifts He gives to His people.

originally published this blog as an article for Relevant Magazine 

Every church has outliers—people who don’t quite fit the mold. I’m not talking about unbelievers who try out church for a while but then leave because they don’t actually love Jesus. I’m talking about zealous Christians, passionate believers, people who would much rather feed the poor than listen to yet another sermon.

My cousin Paul is one of these outliers. From the time he was nineteen years old, he was a rebel, but he was also a Christian. He tried to attend a conservative Christian college, but they kept telling him to cut his hair so it wouldn’t touch his collar. (After three haircuts, he finally got it right.) He dropped out after a year, not because he didn’t love Jesus but because he didn’t fit into this Christian subculture. “I just couldn’t play that game. I wanted to spend my energy engaging in meaningful work.” He thought about becoming a pastor, but the thought of preparing and preaching sermons every Sunday to Christians seemed like a nightmare. He wasn’t really into “church” as it’s traditionally understood.

Paul ended up finding one of the most unreached countries in the world. I’d tell you the name of the country, but it could get him killed. He bought a plane ticket, and that’s where he’s spent the bulk of his life—pursuing a mission that 99 percent of Christians would never think of doing. He was run out of the country by terrorists a couple of years ago, but he’s now returned with his wife and two small children. He’s spreading the gospel in a gospel-less land by creating small businesses that provide jobs in an impoverished country. Jesus’ kingdom is breaking into this unreached country through the radical missional ventures of a wild-eyed outlier.

My friend Josh Stump is another outlier. He’s a pastor and church planter who has planted several churches in the Nashville area. Nashville is an interesting place. There are more churches in Nashville than delis in New York. It’s the Vatican of the Bible Belt. But the churches there are largely focused on reaching middle-class suburban dwellers. Josh’s heart is for the outcast, the marginalized, the ones who would never set foot inside a megachurch, even if it has a great sound system. And Josh is the right guy to do it. Although he’s a pastor, he owns a cigar shop in east Nashville (the part of the Nashville that you probably didn’t visit when you were touring the city). Selling (and smoking) cigars is his full-time job. If you entered his shop, you’d never know that he’s a pastor. He’s got more tattoos than Elvis had shoes, and his hipster beard puts David Crowder to shame.

“You know, Preston” Josh told me, “I talk about Jesus and do more pastoring here in this cigar shop than I do at my church.”

“Your church sounds pretty Christ-less,” I jibed back.

Josh laughed with a lingering grin and kept going. “My customers don’t just come to smoke cigars. They come for relationships, community, and to talk about religion. Yet they would never go to a traditional church. And I fear that if they did go to a traditional church, they wouldn’t engage in the same depth of spiritual conversations that they do here in my shop.”

He’s right. As I sat there in his shop, coughing on a cigar, I kept seeing customer (friend) after customer (friend) wanting to engage in meaningful conversation with Josh. Religion, politics, sports, cigars, BBQ—they were all fair game. But it wasn’t long before Jesus came up in conversation. Josh’s Monday through Friday vocation is saturated with the presence of Jesus, whose glory shines through a smoke-filled room filled with misfits. 

My friend Tasha was raised in a Christian home that was all but Christ-like. I’ll save you the details. Let’s just say that she was so spiritually abused that I’m surprised she’s still a Christian. Tasha’s not your typical churchgoer. She’s an outlier. She attends Sunday services, but beyond that she would score pretty low on the discipleship activity meter. She’s tried out various Bible studies and women’s groups, but they just don’t really fit her. Maybe she should attend anyway, or maybe she should do something different. She’s always wrestling with her place in the church.

One day my wife was hanging out with Tasha in her neighborhood. As they were walking Tasha’s daughter to school, at least half a dozen women greeted her. “Hey, Tasha, thanks for bringing that meal last night!” “Tasha, thanks for praying with me yesterday.” “Hey Tasha, are we having our knitting group tonight?”

My wife was amazed. She had no idea. She never knew that Tasha had invested so much time and relational energy in the unbelievers in her neighborhood—people who would never set foot in a church. She’s been running that knitting group now for a couple years, and all of her friends who attend are unbelievers. “Some of them are starting to ask questions about religion!” Tasha said with child-like joy.

Tasha doesn’t fit the typical Christian subculture. She’d probably have a great time talking about Jesus at Josh’s cigar shop.

Every church has its outliers. They’re zealous for their faith, but they seek to live it out in unconventional ways. They’re often creative, energetic, and eager to reach the lost. They would rather be with unbelievers than with Christians, especially Christians who would judge them for not going to church more often. Many of these outliers end up leaving the church. They’re hungry to pursue God’s mission, yet they find that the church often stifles their passion.

A church that believes in holistic discipleship will empower its outliers. Rather than seeing them as a threat or a nuisance, holistic churches will value them and the unique call God has placed on them. Discipleship doesn’t come with some prepackaged formula that looks the same for all people. Rather it meets people where they’re at and honors the diversity of God’s calling.

Some people are called to be pastors. Others are called to run cigar shops. Both are called to ministry. And it’s the church’s job to “equip the saints for the work of ministry” (Ephesians 4:12).

This blog is taken from chapter 5 "On Earth As it Is in Heaven" of my new book Go: Returning Discipleship to the Front Lines of Faith, which releases this week. 

The following post is the opening paragraphs of my forthcoming book, Go: Returning Discipleship to the Front Lines of Faith, hich is due to release on September 15th. 

He was an unmarried peasant who was executed by the state for treason. Many of his friends were criminals, sinners, thugs, and misfits. Few of them were religious. He got kicked out his home church (or synagogue) after saying things that offended the status quo. He spent most of his time with drunks, gluttons, fornicators, and thieves. He was so close to “sinners” that the religious leaders thought he was one. And nearly everything he said and did made religious people mad. Like when he told them to turn the other cheek, love their enemies, and give their money to the poor.

Jesus—the Jewish prophet-king from Nazareth—was dangerous. He wasn’t tame. He wasn’t predictable. He wasn’t safe.

Even though he befriended immoral people, he upheld a moral standard that was so impossible to obey that he walked out of a grave for us to attain it. He wasn’t very sensitive to those seeking to follow him. He never eased anyone into the kingdom or said things that people wanted to hear. Jesus was a hard-hitting, enemy-loving, harlot-embracing, wild-eyed Messiah, who resisted doing things the way we’ve always done them. The biblical Jesus hits us between the eyes with truth and embraces us with tears when we disobey that truth. Jesus demanded that “if anyone would come after me”—that is, become a disciple—“let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). As Dietrich Bonheoffer used to say, “When Jesus calls a man, he bids him come and die."

In this book we will explore what it means to become like Jesus, which means it’s a book about discipleship. When we talk about “becoming more like Jesus” we’ve got to slam our clichés on the operating table and dissect them to see if they’re biblical. And this book is going to serve as the surgeon. When we talk about discipleship and becoming more Christ-like, we’ve got to keep asking: What does it mean to become like Jesus?

The Moral Jesus of Therapeutic Deism

As we’ll see, discipleship means becoming more like Jesus. This doesn’t necessarily mean we should sell our homes and walk around the streets as homeless peasants. But I do think we need to take a fresh look at the scandalous nature of becoming Christ-like.

If I can be completely honest, I’ve never had a huge desire to write a book about discipleship (don’t tell my publisher). I just figured that all the pastors and churches in America are doing a pretty good job. And if it ain’t broke, why write a book about it?

But then I read the recent Barna study The State of Discipleship, and my desire to write this book was ignited. In 2014, the international outreach ministry The Navigators commissioned The Barna Group, a Christian research firm, to perform an extensive survey of adult Christians, Christian scholars and influencers, and ministry and church leaders about their understanding and practice of discipleship. Some of the results of that study were informative; others were encouraging. But many of the results were depressing. We’ll unpack some of the depressing details in due time, but to sum it up: The American church is not doing very well at discipling its people. Which is a bit problem since discipleship means becoming like Christ.

The State of Discipleship revealed that our methods of making disciples are broken. Whatever we’re doing, it’s not working. Few churches and Christian leaders are effectively helping people become more like Jesus. Reading the results of that study really fired me up to want to write this book. Once I realized that our methods of making disciples have proved ineffective, that’s when I decided to peek behind the curtain to see what was going on.

“Come on, Erastus. We’re going to be late. The celebration has started!” 

Fear gripped Erastus’s heart. He knew he had to do it, but his feet felt cemented into the marble floor as the warm Mediterranean breeze swept through his front door. 

“Hang on, Gaius. Let me just grab my cloak.” 

“And don’t forget your speech, Erastus. Remember: this is your night!”

“Oh ... yes, of course,” Erastus stammered as he stuffed a piece of parchment into his cloak. “Okay. Let’s go.”

As the two rushed to the city square, the buzz of the crowd vibrated through the alleys. Intoxicated with violence, they chanted: “Kurios Vespasian. Kurios Vespasian. Kurios Vespasian!

“They’re waiting for you, Erastus! Are you ready?”

“Um, yes. Yes, of course. I’m ready.”

Celebrations ignited across the Roman world at the news of Emperor Vespasian’s recent bloodbath in Jerusalem. The Jewish revolt had been crushed by Rome, and pride wafted through the Mediterranean air, especially in patriotic towns like Corinth, where Erastus was the city treasurer.

Kurios Vespesian! Kurios Vespesian!

“There it is, Erastus! Look, they built a stage for your speech. This is your night, Erastus. The favor of the gods is with you. And kurios Vespasian, our divine emperor, is with you. Make him proud!”

As city treasurer, Erastus was called upon by the Senate to herald the good news of Lord Vespasian’s peace-bringing victory over the revolting Jews. Putting down such threats brought salvation and security to the empire. Normally, Erastus would eagerly celebrate. The only problem was that Erastus had recently renounced his belief in the Roman gods, and he no longer believed that Vespasian was his kurios. He had joined the community of the Way, a group otherwise known as Christians. And Erastus now worshipped a new King, a Jew from Nazareth named Yeshua whom his own government had crucified. Yeshua, the crucified Jew, was his new Kurios—His divine Lord.

“Right this way, sir.” A soldier beckoned, glistening with joy. “Vespasian reigns! Make him proud, sir!”

Erastus strolled up the stage, dove into his pocket, and snatched his manuscript. He gazed over the crowd and then squinted up to the sky and whispered: “Kurios Christos, give me strength to follow You. May Your cross be mine. This night, I will be with You.”

“Citizens of Rome,” cried Erastus. “We are here to celebrate Vespasian’s recent victory over the Jews in Palestine. Many people have been killed, both Romans and Jews. And Rome has reclaimed Palestine for the empire.”

“Kurios Vespasian!” shouted the crowd. “Salvation and peace belong to Rome!”

“However,” continued Erastus. “I’m here to tell you about another empire. Another Kurios. A better salvation and true peace.”

The crowd froze.

“I stand before you as a herald of the good news that Yeshua, a Jew from the town of Nazareth in Palestine, is the true Kurios, the Lord of the earth. His kingdom rules over Rome, and its boundaries reach to the ends of the earth. I am a servant of this King, this Lord. He is my Kurios. He is your Kurios. I have submitted to His rule, and I can therefore not celebrate this war with you. Many innocent lives have been shed to maintain Rome’s peace. But true peace is found in Yeshua.”

Anger whipped through those in the agitated crowd as they gnashed their teeth. Several men rushed the stage. Soldiers drew their swords.

“Citizens of Rome. People of Corinth. I declare to you this evening that God has highly exalted Yeshua and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Yeshua every knee in this city square should bow and every tongue confess that Yeshua the Messiah is Kurios, to the glory of the God of heaven, our Father.”

A sword slashed across Erastus’s face, and he crumpled to the floor. Blood gushed out and filled the platform. Another sword hacked at his ribs, boots trampled his limps, and soon Erastus was with his Kurios.

And thus Satan was dealt another blow. Erastus, citizen of Christ, had suffered—and conquered.

And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death. (Rev. 12:11) 

*This blog is taken from pp. 258-260 of my book Fight: A Christian Case for Nonviolence.

Loving people is hard. Loving unlovable people is particularly difficult. But loving your enemy? The command seems insane! But this is the love of Christ: “While we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son” (Romans 5:10). And this is why God calls us to love our enemies. He doesn’t call us to do something that he hasn’t already done. 

T.D. Miles once said that Christianity is like one beggar showing other beggars where to find bread. Since we were enemies when God loved us, he calls us to turn around and love our fellow enemies. As beggars who have found undeserved bread, we can only show other beggars, even if they’re enemies, where to find bread. Anything less would be hypocrisy.

As much as I would like to draw boundaries around enemy-love, Jesus doesn’t. The Greek word for enemy (echthroi) is often used in the broadest sense to include religious, political, and personal enemies. In fact, the word echthroi is often used in the Old Testament of military enemies. This is why Jesus told his followers to carry the pack of a Roman solider—a military enemy—in the same context (Matt 5:41). Such ridiculousness would be a scandalous act of love. And in the same context, Jesus compares loving our enemies to the Father’s love for all people: the “just and the unjust” (Matt. 5:45). There is nothing in Jesus’s words that restricts the meaning of “enemy” to certain types of people. Jesus’s call to love our enemy is indistinguishable; it extends to every last person on the planet.

Jesus’s command to “love your enemies” was the most popular verse in the early church. It was quoted in 26 places by 10 different writers in the first 300 years of Christianity, which makes it the most celebrated command among the first Christians. Matthew 5:44 was the so-called John 3:16 of the early church. And enemy-love was the hallmark of the Christian faith. Other religions taught that people should love their neighbors. They even taught forgiveness for those who wronged them. But actually loving your enemy? Only Jesus and his followers took love this far. Because this is how far the love of God extends to us—“while we were God’s enemies” Christ loved us.

Christians no longer distinguish between neighbors and enemies. Through the death of Jesus, we are swept up into God’s love for all people—even enemies like us. The one who loves his enemies can no longer have any enemies. He is left only with neighbors.

You have heard that it was said, "Love your neighbor and hate your enemy." But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you (Matt 5:43-44)

One of my favorite and most uncomfortable memories as a Bible professor was when I had Old Testament scholar, Tremper Longman, give a guest lecture on the Song of Songs. Tremper specializes in ancient near Eastern love poetry. No, he’s not some creepy old guy who gets off on ancient erotic fiction. He’s an authority on the Song of Songs, and he interprets the biblical Song in light of other ancient love poems—as it should be.

I’ll never forget feeling the tension in the classroom as he went into detail about the real meaning of the poem. “His body is polished ivory,” says the ESV, but according to Tremper, the Hebrew word for body refers to the man’s midsection and the image of ivory is intended to invoke the original form of ivory: an elephant’s tusk. Yes, that’s right. The wife in Song of Songs 5:14 is admiring her well-hung husband.

The reaction among the students was classic. Blushes, giggles, eye-brows raised to the ceiling. Apparently their Sunday school teachers never explained the connection between ivory tusks and penises. My own palms started to sweat as I thought about the slew of phone calls I was bound to get from angry parents demanding to know why their kids were discussing well-endowed men. But my nervousness turned to excitement as my students boiled with fundamentalist zeal: “If that’s what the Bible says, then why don’t our translations say what the Bible says?”

“Well,” Tremper searched as he looked to the ground. “Translations are filtered through a bit of political correctness.” We could tell Tremper didn’t agree with this. Still, silence and outrage hung in the air. As a professor, I spend a good deal of classroom time instilling in my students a passion to interpret and believe what the Bible actually says. Not what we want it to say, but what it really says in all its grit and occasional offensiveness. Cleaning up God’s word is like editing a love letter and sending it back for a re-write.

But religious people have been covering up obscene language in the Bible for years. Jewish scribes in the middle ages, who copied the Hebrew Old Testament used as the base for all English translations, edited out some vulgar words and replaced them with nicer ones. For instance, God originally prophesied through Zechariah that women in Israel would be raped by wicked, invading armies. The word God inspired is shagel, and according to Hebrew linguists, shagel is an obscene word that describes a sexual act. (No, it’s not where we get the British word “shag.”) But whenever God said shagel (e.g. Deuteronomy 28:30; Isaiah 13:16), the Masorite scribes replaced it with the more tame shakev—“to lie with.” And all of our “literal” English translations agree that the word from the middle ages is better than the one spoken by our Creator.

The Bible is full of obscene language. Ezekiel would have been grounded for several months if he was raised in my house. He talks about huge penises, female genital fluid produced at sexual arousal, and large quantities of semen being “poured out” on Israel—God’s wayward whore (Ezekiel 16:26, 36, 37; 23:20-21). Instead of grounding the prophet, modern translators edit out the vulgarity so that Ezekiel can be read in church. The apostle Paul was so enrapture by the scandalous grace of God that he came dangerously close to cussing: “I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as skubala, in order that I may gain Christ” (Philippians 3:8). The Greek word skubala is more vulgar than crap, but not quite as harsh as s**t. Either way, most translations dim it down by using words like “rubbish,” which means trash, not excrement, or “dung” which is more accurate but far less offensive.

In some ways, it’s understandable that we don’t want to be using this type of language in church. But, on the other hand, the Gospel is offensive. Grace is scandalous. And that’s the real point. The biblical prophets sometimes use offensive language, but not to produce shock for its own sake. Edginess was never the goal, and neither was some vague notion of Christian “freedom.” God’s messengers used vulgar images to shock their religious audience out of complacency. Because sometimes the goodness of God becomes lost in the fog of Christianese rhetoric and religious routine, and the only way to wake us up is to use provocative language.

So how do we reconcile Ezekiel’s filthy tongue with Ephesians 4:29? “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” Does this outlaw all forms of vulgarity? Not exactly. The word for “corrupting” (sapros) literally means “rotten, decaying, unwholesome.” The whole point is not to forbid certain words that are labeled “cuss words” by its culture, but all speech that does not “build up.”

Paul’s warning here does include using obscene or vulgar language that tears someone down, reflects worldly motives, or in any other way that’s unfit for a redeemed way of life. But “corrupting” primarily refers to slander, gossip or any other speech that tears someone down. Paul refers to the dangerous power of words, all words, when used to dehumanize another human being. Gossiping about a fellow church member, dropping a belittling comment on a blog or Facebook post or holding up a hateful sign at a gay-pride parade are all good examples of “corrupting” talk.

So, in other words, if modern day preachers and Christians cuss or use vulgar terms only to get a rise out of conservatives, they aren’t prophetic, they’re simply immature. Similarly, if you call someone a piece of skubula or blurt out shagel! after stubbing your toe, you’re not being prophetic or biblical, just undisciplined.

But if your Gospel presentation is putting your moralistic crowd to sleep, or if a pharisaic friend is more concerned about proper speech than an addiction to grace, then you may need to tell him that his Christ-less church attendance is nothing more than a bloody tampon until he clings to the Cross, as Isaiah did (Isaiah 64:6).

I originally published this article with Relevant Magazine in August 2014.