only the present

Robert Lupton gets me every time.

In one of his several anecdotes from his work, Theirs is the Kingdom, Lupton summarizes the life-stuggles of a psychologically-decrepit neighbor in his downtown Atlanta neighborhood. Immediately following the elderly lady's narrative, Lupton points out the call of Christ:

"If you would save your life, you will lose it; but if you lose your life for My sake, you will find it." [Matthew 16:25]

Lupton continues:

The church is engaged in a similar struggle. We are in a death drift that moves us from serving to preserving. Our spontaneous fellowship soon becomes a program. Bearing one another's burdens becomes a budget line item. Self-sacrificing friends become paid professionals with titles (counselor, minister, director) and salary packages, longevity guarantees, and retirement benefits. Our meeting places turn into "holy places" with stained glass, polished oak, and locks. Taking "no thought for tomorrow" becomes sentimental rhetoric as we build bigger barns and amass insurance and endowments and reserve funds against unpredictable events of our future.

But the church has not future. We have only the present.

In this present moment we must spend, lavish, and give away our tomorrows for the sake of His kingdom today. In short, we must die. Today. That is that only way to save our lives. The church is called to live at Golgotha. If perchance tomorrow morning we discover that our depleted spirits have a new supply of energy, that the emptied offering plate is full once again, and from sacrificial dreams whole new dimensions of life have burst forth, then we will begin to understand something of what th resurrection is about. On the other side of death, each death, stands our risen Lord. And He beckons us.

Participate in a simple exercise: attempt to justify a recent exorbitant expense according to the teachings and life-style of Jesus. You'll soon find cause for confession, and the validity contained in Lupton's above statement.

Even further, Christ's calling is not so simple as an all/nothing dichotomy, for even our Lord maintained even the simplest possessions. Indeed, we must navigate the tension between stewarding and lavishing in that which we own. The call of the Christian is not instant suicide; it is the daily cross-carrying, practice of sacrificing oneself for the betterment of others in the pattern of Jesus Christ.

What authenticates Lupton's admonition is the context of the entire work. He's hardly out to rail against tradition; indeed, he actively advocates for solid orthodoxy and the absolute need for substantive believers to transport that faith and living into the urban sprawl.

In a genre that is regularly politicized, radicalized, and sensationalized, Lupton speaks from experiential wisdom and a broken heart. Through a series of anecdotal narratives, Lupton reveals patterns and problems of domestic, marginalized people groups residing within the city, and consequently reveals both the pitfalls and successes of certain urban-missional habits. He speaks not as a commentator, nor a policy expert, but as a neighbor. A Good Samaritan.

If you don't own a copy of Theirs is the Kingdom, its worth every penny of the Amazonian S+H.

[JSD]