Substance By Kate Blackwell
written at Friday, September 24, 2010
I always get stuck on that verse in John that says we should be “in the world, but not of it.” I actually think about it a lot; what does that mean exactly? Christine Caine says that many Christians are of the world, but not in it. Meaning they are selfish, deceitful, and greedy like the world, but they have set themselves apart as Christians. They are of the world, made from the same substance, but removed from it.
So what does it mean to be the other way around? My friend emailed me recently about this idea. She wrote about how she knows her faith permeates everything she does, but she isn’t vocal about it at work. Oddly enough, she doesn’t quote scripture to her co-workers or lay hands on them when they aren’t well. She wants her co-workers and colleagues to know that she is a person of faith, but without being annoying and intrusive, how does she communicate that? She went on to write about how it takes so much effort to be a Christian without saying it–letting your actions speak louder than your words.
I’ve always believed that before we can impact people, we have to invest in their lives. When Loren and I were dating in college, this older classmate approached us in the hallway at school to give us his advice on “staying pure before marriage.” It was so awkward. My face turned bright red with embarrassment. I was mortified that this stranger (with good intentions) approached us and started talking about this topic. He hadn’t invested in my life, and it made for a VERY uncomfortable five minutes.
People will be more receptive to what you have to say if you show them before you say it. As with everything in life, it is not so much about what you believe, but more about who you are. It’s hard to repel someone when you stand for kindness, love, gentleness, understanding, and hope. But it is easy to offend someone when you are vocal about something they don’t understand or welcome.
As Christians, I think we have done a really bad job of branding ourselves as pushy weirdos. In my office, there are a couple of people who have succeeded in doing this, then I am left to deal with the stigma. I feel that there is a move now, especially among young, progressive Christians to rebrand ourselves as being in the world, but not of it. Present in popular culture, but made from a different substance.
In our efforts to connect with a broken world, we cannot ignore that we are of a different mold. We are new creations walking around in frail vessels. We can’t remove this element of mysticism from the equation, or we are robbing the gospel of its’ grace and mercy. The story of Christ is incredibly weird when you look at it from a distance, and even up close sometimes I think it is bizarre.
How is it possible that all of my transgressions can be forgiven? How is it possible for me to live a life that I don’t deserve? How is it possible that one man/God could redeem me from the curse of the law? And how do I manage to communicate this very spiritual existence to those who are spiritually dead?
Substance By Kate Blackwell
written at Friday, September 24, 2010
I always get stuck on that verse in John that says we should be “in the world, but not of it.” I actually think about it a lot; what does that mean exactly? Christine Caine says that many Christians are of the world, but not in it. Meaning they are selfish, deceitful, and greedy like the world, but they have set themselves apart as Christians. They are of the world, made from the same substance, but removed from it.
So what does it mean to be the other way around? My friend emailed me recently about this idea. She wrote about how she knows her faith permeates everything she does, but she isn’t vocal about it at work. Oddly enough, she doesn’t quote scripture to her co-workers or lay hands on them when they aren’t well. She wants her co-workers and colleagues to know that she is a person of faith, but without being annoying and intrusive, how does she communicate that? She went on to write about how it takes so much effort to be a Christian without saying it–letting your actions speak louder than your words.
I’ve always believed that before we can impact people, we have to invest in their lives. When Loren and I were dating in college, this older classmate approached us in the hallway at school to give us his advice on “staying pure before marriage.” It was so awkward. My face turned bright red with embarrassment. I was mortified that this stranger (with good intentions) approached us and started talking about this topic. He hadn’t invested in my life, and it made for a VERY uncomfortable five minutes.
People will be more receptive to what you have to say if you show them before you say it. As with everything in life, it is not so much about what you believe, but more about who you are. It’s hard to repel someone when you stand for kindness, love, gentleness, understanding, and hope. But it is easy to offend someone when you are vocal about something they don’t understand or welcome.
As Christians, I think we have done a really bad job of branding ourselves as pushy weirdos. In my office, there are a couple of people who have succeeded in doing this, then I am left to deal with the stigma. I feel that there is a move now, especially among young, progressive Christians to rebrand ourselves as being in the world, but not of it. Present in popular culture, but made from a different substance.
In our efforts to connect with a broken world, we cannot ignore that we are of a different mold. We are new creations walking around in frail vessels. We can’t remove this element of mysticism from the equation, or we are robbing the gospel of its’ grace and mercy. The story of Christ is incredibly weird when you look at it from a distance, and even up close sometimes I think it is bizarre.
How is it possible that all of my transgressions can be forgiven? How is it possible for me to live a life that I don’t deserve? How is it possible that one man/God could redeem me from the curse of the law? And how do I manage to communicate this very spiritual existence to those who are spiritually dead?
Profile
Knowing
What matters supremely, therefore, is not
in the last analysis, the fact that I know God,
but the larger fact which underlies it --
the fact that He knows me.
J. I. Packer
