Along the Way: Corporate Emancipation

Without going into detail, I will simply say that May ten years ago was a turning point in my life, a painful time for Jeannie and me. We have also noted that May in other years has been a hard time for some of our friends in the academy, church, and elsewhere. It’s a month when people experience changes, moves, and terminations. And while difficult to see at the time these things are happening, many of us have come to realize that such moments were emancipating, sometimes from prisons we did not even realize we were in. Liberation from the “corporate” is a reality, and today I am thinking about it as a necessity if our spiritual formation is to continue in a healthy way.

Before I go on, let me be clear that I am using the word ‘corporate’ deliberately, rather than the word ‘institutional.’ Institutions are sociological necessities, and we create them in every aspect of life. But ‘corporate’ (as I am using it) is a mindset which can take root and grow in the seedbed of institutions. It offers a harvest of toxic, addictive fruit that seduces our souls and sickens our spirits over time. It’s summed up in the adage “selling our soul to the company store.”

The corporate is fertile soil for narcissism to flourish, often in disguise through the language of leadership. “Strong leaders” are praised, even touted and recruited. Their abilities are called on by boards and congregations to clean house and right the ship. Their toxicity is only seen (and even then, not always acknowledged) when their “my way or the highway” style evolves into retribution toward those who see things differently. Disagreement is the unpardonable sin in the minds of those corporately imprisoned.

The corporate is also where arrogance grows. Narcissism adds supremacy to the picture. Our whatever it is, is the best. Our schools are “ivy league,” our companies are “Fortune 500,” our denominations are “truly Christian,” and our churches are “flagship.” We recruit students, faculty, employees, and members on the basis of these images, and we compensate and promote the staff persons who best represent them. Preserving the alleged superiorities becomes increasingly consuming. “Being number one” is wearying work, soul-draining labor.

The corporate is where ethics are compromised in favor of winning. The end justifies the means, sometimes to the extent that lies are touted as truth and misinformation is minted as the coinage of reality. The standards created by these false narratives become sacred cows, alleged means for discerning who “is of God” and who is not. And when combined with the previous two aspects, the repeated false witness does, in fact, become a prison–even for those who have ceased to believe the lies, but continue to choose the preservation of their status and reputation over integrity.

But thanks be to God, there is corporate emancipation. It is a version of what Charles Wesley described in his hymn, ‘And Can It Be?’……”my chains fell off, my heart was free. I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.”

The new awakening in our day is advancing through the devotion and effort of those who have experienced corporate emancipation. Paradoxically, some serve their institutions better than ever because their hearts are free. Others move on to serve God, who is doing new things (Isaiah 43:19) in other ways. Together those corporately emancipated sing, “Free at last, free at last! Thank God almighty, we’re free at last!” They raise their sails, allowing the fresh wind of the Spirit to fill and propel them into places and experiences they could never have imagined, saying with Dr. Seuss, “O, the places you will go!”

UMC: Day of Meekness

For a long time, I have used John Wesley’s weekly prayer cycle to express and guide my praying. [1] Thursday is the day for meekness. In his cycle, meekness comes between renunciation (Wed) and redemption (Fri). It is not only a prayer pattern, it is a life principle. And as I included it in my morning prayers today, I was struck by its importance for those of us in United Methodism, who are “going on to perfection.”

Meekness means being open, receptive, and teachable. It is exactly what we are called to do as Christ’s followers on the heels of the breakthrough at General Conference yesterday, when as a denomination we renounced policies that have held us captive for fifty years. We are on the way to a redemption (a buying back) of our denomination. Between renunciation and redemption is meekness.

Meekness is the humility of the first beatitude (poverty of spirit), converted into action. It is what Oswald Chambers called “working out what God has worked in.” Meekness is converting the coinage of inspiration into the currency of resolve, spending ourselves and our substance in long-haul obedience in which we “work on your own salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12 NRSVue), doing so in a spirit of gentleness as we bear patiently with ourselves and one another. [2]

Thursday….the day of meekness, the day on our journey from renunciation to redemption in the spiritual life for everyone, the day on our journey as United Methodists from bondage to freedom. Yesterday was historic. Tomorrow is hopeful. Today is meekness, through which Jesus said, we will “inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5).

[1] John Wesley, ‘A Collection of Forms of Prayer for Everyday in the Week’ (1733). This is not only a collection of prayers, it is a formation pattern that begins in love and ends in gratitude. Following the daily themes grows us in Christlikeness.

[2] The calm-and-collected disposition of meekness is why Thomas Merton, Dorothy Day, John Dear, and others see this beatitude as Jesus’ commendation of nonviolence through the exercise of love.

Along the Way: Response Theology

For thirty years, I had the privilege of teaching theology courses. “John Wesley’s Theology Today” and “United Methodist Theology” were the ones I taught most frequently. In both of them, and in other courses as well, one of my main emphases was that theology is always a response to something other than itself. And that one of the requisite acts in studying theology is to ask, “What is this theological statement responding to?” To see that helps us to interpret theology within the larger context from which it emerged.

This phenomenon is playing out in spades in our day as people across the theological spectrum are making theological responses to all sorts of things. Even when we disagree theologically about them, we often discover that we are “doing theology” out of shared concerns. To recognize this is important; if nothing else it calms the waters of disagreement so that a more irenic debate can occur. And when that happens, godly compromises occur that do not happen when contentiousness reigns.

In the past few days, I have experienced two confirmations. The first is ecclesial, as the current United Methodist Church’s General Conference currently going on in Charlotte is conducting its business in a spirit far more charitable than on previous occasions. Responsive theology is clearly directing things so far.

The second confirmation comes from a book I came upon, ‘Response Theology’ written in 2022 by John T. James. [1] Enroute to his convictions, he notes that the theology which will move us forward into Christian maturity is rooted in love, creating attitudes and actions which are more gracious, generous, and healing that mean-spirited theology can ever be.

My purpose in this post is neither to comment on the UMC General Conference (that would be premature since it’s not over) nor to offer a review of James’ book. Rather, I want to expand on my longstanding conviction that theology is always a response to something. I note these things.

First, the significance of response theology. I simply mean that it’s better than reactionary theology. Response theology has a mindfulness that knee-jerk impulsiveness does not have. Response theology is careful to do its homework, which in-and-of-itself means it advances more slowly, which is usually a good thing. Response theology is interdisciplinary, in ways that reactionary theology is not. It moves ahead with a deliberateness and depth that reactionary theology lacks.

Second, the structure that emerges in response theology. E. Stanley Jones called it the Round Table. [2] The roundness symbolizes that it is God’s table. Everyone there is a guest, not a host. The Round Table is a place of learning, not argument—a gathering in which each participant offers their best. The Round Table is a means of grace, an expression of holy conferencing—a forum, not a fight. Respect, not judgmentalism prevails.

Third, the surprises in response theology. This point emerges from the previous one. When finding and following God’s will (corporate discernment) is the intention, it is watered by the conviction that the Holy Spirit will intervene, guiding us in ways we would never have imagined in our partisan camps and silos. Response theology takes its cue, not from the moment, but from the witness of history—namely, one of things that’s always said when God moves among us is, “Well, I was not expecting that.” Response theology is open and receptive in ways reactionary theology is not.

Fourth, the sentiment in response theology. Simply put, it aims to do the will of God on earth as it is in heaven. Faithfulness, not winning, is its motivation. And it is the kind of faithfulness that recognizes the incomplete, imperfect, and evolutionary nature of the theological task. Response theology looks for bridges (new beginnings) not walls (“pure church” certainties), knowing that even when we leave the Round Table, we will be back again as God’s light from many lamps further illuminates our journey.

For these kinds of reasons, I hold to my conviction that theology is always a response, or at least good theology is. It’s why I choose to hang out with responsive theologians. They offer us ways forward in this time of new awakening, and from the One River, they invite us to drink Living Water from many wells. [3]

[1] John T. James, ‘Response Theology’ (WestBow Press, 2022).
[2] E. Stanley Jones, ‘Christ at the Round Table’ (Abingdon Press, 1928).
[3] The concluding metaphor comes from Matthew Fox, himself a responsive theologian, and his book, ‘One River, Many Wells.’ (Tarcher/Penguin, 2000).

Along the Way: God After…

In my recent reading, I have come across books and articles that express a “God after” sentiment. [1] They do so from multiple vantage points. But taken together, a common theme emerges: we are living in a time when we must move through untrue (toxic) notions of God into genuine (life-giving) ones. Because I agree, both with the assessment of our time and because I believe living faith evolves, I continue to explore the “God after” intuition/intention.

I do this because some of the most devout and credible Christians I know are among those seeking to discover what a “God after” faith looks like. They are not crackpots or heretics (despite being caricatured as such); they are credentialed and creative people (from multiple faith traditions and professional disciplines) who seek to follow the formative flow of Scripture: orientation, disorientation, reorientation (Brueggemann), described by Richard Rohr as the Wisdom pattern: order disorder, reorder. They see this paradigm in Jesus’ teaching about new birth and his emphasis on the kingdom of God, which Paul (and the first Christians) called living “in Christ” as new creations in whom old things pass away and new things come (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Looking at Christian history (with parallels in other religions), I find that cycles of renewal occur, times when God does a new thing, which individuals and movements see and advance (Isaiah 43:19). I agree with those who believe we are living in such a time—another axial age, another awakening. [2] The Wesleyan tradition, born in such a time as a formative movement, gives me the will and language to explore all this with an eye to what John Wesley called “redemption and lift.” [3] The “God after” movement responds to and resonates with this vision of renewal.

But anyone setting out as an adventurer (the metaphor used by Oord and Fuller) on the “God after” journey swiftly experiences resistance, judgment, condemnation, and even excommunication. [4] That’s why people like Parker Palmer have long reminded us that renewal is always accompanied by courage. [5] It’s why Jesus’ biggest threats came from religious leaders, who should have been his cheerleaders, but instead became his crucifiers—which is what always happens to him by those who “sell their souls to the company store” where materialism, hedonism, and power define what’s going on.

But here’s the thing. “God after” is always the outcome. To be among those who follow Jesus in this way, is to be in the company of the committed (Elton Trueblood) whom God uses to cleanse the temple and to be those commissioned to go into the world to make disciples for the transformation of the world. In the short-run, being a “God after” person is painful (Galatians 4:19), but it the labor pain of new birth that produces the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22) and the freedom of Christlikeness (Galatians 5:1). [6]

[1] Seven books illustrate this. ‘God After Deconstruction’ by Thomas Oord and Tripp Fuller, ‘God After Einstein’ by John Haught, ‘Wild Mercy’ by Mirabai Starr, ‘Faith After Doubt’ by Brian McLaren, ‘Cosmogenesis’ by Brian Swimme, ‘Resisting Apartheid America’ by Miguel A. De La Torre, and ‘The Not-Yet God’ by Ilia Delio.

[2] The emergent Christianly movement ignited my awareness and interest in this. In my book ‘Fresh Wind Blowing’ I stand in that stream, describing our time of awakening as a New Pentecost, and using the New Monasticism movement to illustrate it.

[3] Paul Chilcote and I have recently co-authored ‘Upward!’ a book that unpacks three key movements in Wesleyan formation.

[4] As I write this, several Protestant denominations are conducting trials and ousting clergy who question the institutional status quo, who dare to name its sacred cows, and courageously call out its imperialism. They do this in a spirit of loyal opposition, but gatekeepers (inquisitionists) never see it that way, and continue to stone the prophets.

[5] The theme of courage runs through his writings (especially in his book ‘A Hidden Wholeness’), and from there he went on to found the Courage Renewal ministry which trains and supports courageous leaders and their groups.

[6] My latest book, ‘Jesus Unpainted’ explores the “God after” life of Christlikeness through the lens of the fruit of the Spirit.

Along the Way: The Real

The Upper Room Daily Devotional Guide has been one of my mainstays since I professed my faith in Christ in 1963. I have used it over and over, and I am using it these days. One of the reasons I find it helpful is its commitment to offer “real people, real stories, real faith.” As the years have gone by, the word ‘Real’ has increasingly become my favorite words for God. It allows for any and all of the other names used for God, and it holds the attributes we ascribe to God. But it does so in a way that brings everything together in a life-giving way: real people, real stories, real faith.

For most of my thirty years of teaching, I said that “spirituality is reality.” I did this because there is too much fictional spirituality in the world today—spirituality that bids us live in a fantasy land of religiosity. I have also said “spirituality is reality” because skeptics cry out to folks like us saying, “Live in the real world.” It is very important for us to respond, “We are,” but in saying so, we must be sure it’s true.

Evelyn Underhill began her book, ‘The Spiritual Life’ by writing, “The spiritual life is a dangerously ambiguous term.” That was true in 1936, when she first said so in a radio talk. It has been true all the way back into the Garden of Eden when the snake offered Adam and Eve the waxed fruit of unreal spirituality. And it is true today, in a world where God is described in true and false ways. Spirituality is reality.…Reality….REALITY. But how it is so makes all the difference.

It begins in God, the Real One. God is the substance of all that is, “a Reality always there” (Underhill) revealing God’s-self (Rea!ity) to us and sustaining everyone and everything moment by moment. God is all and in all (1 Corinthians 15:58). Reality continues in us and in all God has made. We call this congruence, “likeness” to the One in whom we live, move, and have our being (Acts 17:28).

Reality culminates in consecration to God (Romans 12:1). Thomas Merton said “a tree glorifies God by being a tree” (‘New Seeds of Contemplation,’ 29). Everything glorifies God by being true to its nature. We glorify God by being human. And that’s where the fictitious spiritualties go off the rails. They want us to be cartoons, not genuine people. John Wesley called this “angelism,” and he began the Methodist movement to get people out of that fantasy land and into Reality, into life in Christ.

Parker Palmer is a light for so many of us in this regard. He has devoted his life to describing Reality, to help us discern Reality from illusion, and to mature in this Reality until the day we die. He calls it “the reality and power of the human soul” (‘A Hidden Wholeness,’ 143). This Reality comes to us initially through inspiration, but it advances only by intention as one insight leads us farther into God, the infinitely Real One.

This advance is not without struggle, and it comes as we endure the wears and tears of life. It’s the Reality that Margery Williams wrote about in ‘The Velveteen Rabbit,’

“The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

The Real exists. Oh, yes! It is the treasure hidden in the field (Matthew 13:44), and like the person in the parable, once we find it, we will sell all we have to possess it, never again settling for anything less.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Thanks again to those who read the installments of ‘Jesus Unpainted’ here on Oboedire and got in touch to let me know you enjoyed them.

Just a reminder that I have responded to requests to turn the installments into a book. It is available as a paperback ($4.00) and ebook ($.99). The ebook is formatted differently, but still quite readable. You can see samples of both using the following link and decide which you prefer….

https://a.co/d/2E9rarC

Along the Way: Mystic-Wisdom-Prophet

Here’s the opening meditation in a new series about mystics that Matthew Fox is beginning on his Daily Meditations…

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/9e7cC8ctE6e12YM9/?mibextid=ZbWKwL

Along the Way: Check the Stuffing

More than fifty years ago, I was a on the docket at an event where Peter Marshall Jr. was the featured speaker. I was looking forward to meeting him because his father had been instrumental in my discernment of a call to ordained ministry. His mother, Catherine (who also became a spiritual guide to me through her writing) authored the book, ‘A Man Called Peter’ a story about her husband. The way she told the story moved me, pointing me in the direction of saying “yes” to that call. I wanted to tell Peter Marshall Jr. about his father’s influence. I remember doing so to this day.

I also remember something Peter Marshall Jr. said in one of his addresses at the event, “What you are stuffed with, you eventually become full of.” Decades later, I consider this to be among the wisest one-liners I have ever heard or read.

The mantra is playing out in spades these days, as people become full of what they are stuffed with—so full that the stuffing spills out. And like some products which have been recalled because of toxic stuffing, there is a social stuffing spilling out of some people today that is poisoning our culture and the Church. Paul called toxic stuffing “the works of the flesh” (Galatians 5:16-21). He said such things lead people to oppose the Spirit. He exhorted the Galatians to be stuffed with things that commend God. He called this “the fruit of the Spirit” (Galatians 5:22-23).

Centuries before Peter Marshall Jr., Paul said essentially what he said, “What you are stuffed with, you eventually become full of.” This is why Jesus told us to guard our hearts. We become full of what we are stuffed with.

Check the stuffing.

Book: Jesus Upainted

Before you go….

While putting the weekly installments of ‘Jesus Unpainted’ here on Oboedire, some of you have been in touch to say you hope it will become a book.

I hear you, and I have gone to work to make it so. ‘Jesus Unpainted’ is now available as a paperback book ($4.00) and as an ebook ($.99). Here is the link…

Jesus Unpainted https://a.co/d/2E9rarC

Full Disclosure: the ebook formats differently than the paperback, but it is still quite readable. You can look at samples of each one to make up your mind which one you prefer.

And…FYI….I recently learned you can gift ebooks to others, not just paperback books. If you have the person’s email, you can fill out the “gift this book” form, and they will receive a link to download the book to their device.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Abandonment

Everything I have written in this book comes from a life surrendered to God. Paul stood the Galatians without regard for what others thought of him for doing so. The fruit of the Spirit flowed out of him because that fruit was alive in him. Within the fruit of the Spirit, he was not driven by egotism (in this case, image defense) but rather guided by the Spirit. He said that he no longer lived as an “I” but as one in whom Christ lives (Galatians 2:20). From his example we learn important things about abandonment.

We learn that it is not the annihilation of our ego, but the commitment of our self to God. This is what Jesus called self-denial. Abandonment is life relocated. E. Stanley Jones wrote about the shift, “Your self in your own hands is a problem and a pain; your self in the hands of God is a possibility.” (E. Stanley Jones, ’Growing Spiritually,’ Week Three, Saturday)

Jones also reminds us that abandonment is not the cancellation of the self; it is the consecration of the self. (E. Stanley Jones, ‘Victory Through Surrender,’ 29). Paul understood this, and beseeched fellow Christians to do it (Romans 12:1). Abandonment of the self puts us into the hands of God as living sacrifices (alive in Christ), not dead ones (dead in egotism).

And this leads us to another learning about abandonment. Dr. Dennis Kinlaw put it this way, “We are in God’s hands, and they are good hands.” This is what David recognized that God’s goodness and mercy had followed him all the days of his life (Psalm 23:6). Abandonment is our response to grace.

Abandonment is learning that we live through paradox. Jesus described it as finding our lives by losing them (Matthew 10:39). Paul called it putting off the old self and putting on the new self (Ephesians 4:22-24). St. Francis called it giving as the way to receive. The life God wills for us is counterintuitive. We rise by kneeling. We live by dying.

And this is what we see in the face of Jesus, when the lime-green layers are removed. We see the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 4:4).This is Jesus unpainted.

…

Conclusion: Jesus Unpainted

When Jeannie scrubbed her way down to the original wood, it was beautiful and worth all the effort it took to get to it. Seeing it gave us great joy.

This is even more true when it comes to Jesus unpainted. Lime-green Jesus appeared while he was still alive and afterward in the early church as people overlaid him with the “color” they wanted him to have rather than allowing his good wood to be seen. Additional paint overs have occurred since—too many to mention.

The need to recover Jesus unpainted in our day is immense. Among those between 18-31 years of age, nearly 80% are “nones and dones” with respect to institutional Christianity. The painted-over Jesus no longer appeals to them. But they remain interested in him, with an instinct that underneath all the layers, good-wood Jesus is there.

I have written this book with that same conviction. it is worth the effort to get rid of lime-green Jesus (or any other paint over of him) and find Jesus unpainted. We believe that we see him in the fruit of the Spirit. In this final meditation, we ask, “What do we see when we see Jesus unpainted?

We see revelation. Jesus unpainted puts a face on God. (E. Stanley Jones, ‘The Word Made Flesh,’ Week Two, Saturday). In this sense, it is no surprise that Christlikeness has often been described by the fruit of the Spirit. Each of the nine words has its origin in God. Jesus said, “I and the Father are one” (John 10:30). He was the incarnation of God in human form, with all nine words in play. Similarly the fruitful life we are meant to live is…of the Spirit, what Paul described as Christ living in him (Galatians 2:20)_ what Henry Scougal called the life of God in the human soul. Jesus unpainted is revelation.

In him we also see reality. Some people criticize Christians, telling us to “live in the real world.” There’s only one response to the accusation. It is saying, “We do live in the real world—the world characterized by the fruit of the Spirit. But it is more than saying it, it is living it—manifesting in our attitudes and actions the same nine words.

The “nones and dones” long to see Christians who live in reality. We have too often lived in religion which sadly too often does not look like Jesus—which does not reflect the fruit of the Spirit. Jesus unpainted is reality—the one we are meant to live in.

In him we see release. The grand theme of Paul’s letter to the Galatians is freedom. It is so because freedom is what Jesus came to give us (5:1). He called it abundant living (John 10:10), a life Paul described as our release from legalism into grace. And when we ask what a person looks like who is alive and free in Christ, the fruit of the Spirit is the answer. Jesus unpainted is our release.

He is our restoration. Paul showed this in his letter to the Galatians by not only exposing the lies of legalism, but by prescribing the truth of the Gospel. The Gospel is the antidote for each virus Paul addresses. It is love replacing law, it is graced-enablement replacing self-effort, it is life replacing death. The legalists deceived people by telling them to try harder; Paul told the Galatians to trust more. The life they sought is found, Paul wrote, through faith (2:15—4:31), accomplished by the Spirit (5:1-26), and experienced in community. Jesus unpainted restores us.

Finally, he is our cause for rejoicing. The indwelling Christ is our joy (John 15:11). Abiding in him, we bear the fruit of joy. What better way to end this book than to say when we scrub down through lime-green Jesus and find Jesus unpainted, we rejoice!

…

Remembering Nadine Richmond

Jeannie and I knew Nadine from the time she enrolled in seminary in the fall of 1999. She was one of the students we kept in touch with after she graduated, and we remained friends until she died on March 7, 2023. Jeannie was especially close to Nadine as she and a few other women met from time to time in a small group.

On one occasion, Nadine asked Jeannie if I was working on a book. As it happened, I was working on this one, albeit in a different way. I was calling the early draft ‘Jesus Unpainted,’ and she liked the idea. But what she liked even more was that it was about the fruit of the Spirit. She told Jeannie to be sure to let her know when it was published. Like other book ideas I have had but never finished, the original draft of ‘Jesus Unpainted’ fell by the wayside in favor of other projects.

It stayed that way until Nadine’s memorial service. Several people mentioned the fruit of the Spirit in relation to her, recalling how she had manifested the fruit in her life and ministry—something Jeannie and I had experienced from her as well over the years. Sitting in that memorial service, I knew that I had to revive ‘Jesus Unpainted.’ And I knew it had to be dedicated to her. When I told Jeannie that I was planning to do this, she said, “I was hoping that you would.”

…

For Further Reading

As you have read these meditations, you will note that I have referenced books by E. Stanley Jones along the way. This is intentional, for he has been a primary mentor in helping me see Jesus unpainted. For starters, I hope you will read further in those references, and in the additional ones by him below.

But he is by no means the only one who has revealed Jesus unpainted to me. The following reading list includes others, but it is not exhaustive. I want to keep it short enough so you will feel it’s possible to a read the books, not just see them. They are enough to show that the more we see Jesus unpainted, the more we are drawn to be like him, and the more we make bearing the fruit of the Spirit our passion.

Diana Butler-Bass, Freeing Jesus
Cynthia Bourgeault, The Wisdom Jesus
Michael Frost and Alan Hirsch, ReJesus
Lisa Sharon Harper, The Very Good Gospel
E. Stanley Jones, The Christ of Every Road
E. Stanley Jones, The Unshakable Kingdom and the
Unchanging Person
James Martin, Jesus: A Pilgrimage
Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ
Leonard Sweet & Frank Viola, Jesus: A Theography

Along the Way: Eyes To See

Even in my most conservative phase of Christian faith I never believed the circulating mantra, “Conservative churches are growing because they preach the Gospel, and liberal churches are declining because they don’t.” I didn’t believe it for one reason: the facts never supported the allegation. I knew firsthand conservative churches that were declining and liberal ones that were growing.

Somewhat later, I noticed a shift in the mantra, away from congregationalism to denominationalism. The revised mantra was, “Conservative denominations are growing because they preach the Gospel, and liberal ones are declining because they do not.” I did not believe the updated declaration, but the bulked statistics sustained the illusion.

But now, even the denominational mantra has collapsed. The “unsinkable” paragons of conservative Christianity are losing members. We can now see the truth which was there all along: conservative/liberal have little, if anything, to do with Christianity’s decline. Even the orthodox/heterodox dog “won’t hunt” anymore. These painful realities can be labor pains unto new birth…if we have the courage to be honest, the willingness to be humble, and the disposition to be hopeful.

We are living in a time of new Awakening. The question is whether the Church will be part of it, or be left behind because some chose to put patches on old wineskins rather than pour God’s wine into new ones. It’s what Jesus called “having eyes to see” (Mark 8:18), keeping Isaiah’s question about God’s new thing on the table, “do you see it?” (Isaiah 43:19). Almost every day I read, watch, and listen to those who do see it (some whom I know personally) and are engaged in actions that restore the Bride of Christ to her intended beauty. Here are some of the things they see that take us in the right direction.

First, they understand that Christianity is a faith movement, more than an ecclesial institution. They are seeking to renew the Church as a Body, not a building–as subversives (Rohr, “on the edge of the inside”) not revolutionaries (e.g. a “scorched-earth” strategy). The extent to which we recover a movement mentality (and the ministries that express it), the more the Church will be restored to its intended nature and mission.

Second, they are integrating theology and sociology. In the previous paragraph I used the words “more than” to describe the unitive consciousness required if the Church is to be part of the new Awakening. Renewalists focus on the wine, but always keeping in mind that there must be wineskins to hold it. Renewalists are not anti-institutional; they are transinstitutional. They realize that the Christ/culture dynamic is ever in play.

Third, they recognize the priority of locality, locating Christian community in both traditional and non-traditional space, including cyberspace. One of the things I see in this work is Jesus’ commendation of the sacredness of littleness and the greatness of servanthood, particularly to “the least of these,” the anawim, the “othered,” and otherwise oppressed. Renewalists provide cups of cold water, not car washes.

Fourth, they practice deep ecumenism. While maintaining a specific identity, they use it as a gift to be shared, not as wall to be built. Sociologically, they do it to avoid redundancy and overlap—two things renewal cannot abide. Theologically, they cultivate interdenominational, interfaith, intercultural, and international relationships because they believe “Christ is all and in all” (Colossians 3:11 NRSVue).

Fifth, they live among and listen to the critics. “Religiously unaffiliated” people are fellow human beings in Beloved Community. “Nones and Dones” are prophets telling us things about ourselves we must hear. The Church thrives to the extent it is willing to be challenged and held accountable. Our strength is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:8), not hubris.

All of this is done in love and with courage. Love is incarnate through the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23), and courage is expressed in nonviolently resisting the principalities and powers (Ephesians 6:12) who build empires and preserve sacred cows. As they do this, those with eyes to see live joyfully and in the confidence that today (as in times past) justice will roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream (Amos 5:24), and that the Church will be one means for the overcoming of evil with good (Romans 12:21).

Resources: Mystic-Wisdom-Prophet

The mini-series, “Mystic-Wisdom-Prophet,” in Oboedire Sounds (Spotify) is complete, episodes 64-68. Here is the resource list to take you farther into the topic. More importantly, this is the threefold spirituality so much needed in the world today. I hope this podcast series and these resources will inspire and equip you for this kind of spiritual life.

Mystic…
Matthew Fox, ‘Prayer’ (chapter 4)
W.R. Inge, ‘Christian Mysticism’
Thomas Merton, ‘Contemplative Prayer’
Richard Rohr, ‘What the Mystics Know’
Wayne Teasdale, ‘The Mystic Heart’
Evelyn Underhill, ‘Mysticism’

Wisdom…
Cynthia Bourgeault, ‘The Wisdom Jesus’
Cynthia Bourgeault, ‘The Wisdom Way of Knowing’
Matthew Fox, ‘One River, Many Wells’
Richard Rohr, ‘The Wisdom Pattern’
Rami Shapiro, ed., ‘Perennial Wisdom’
Rami Shapiro, ed., ‘The World Wisdom Bible”
Howard Thurman, ‘Jesus and the Disinherited’

Prophet…
Walter Brueggemann, ‘’Reality, Grief, and Hope’
Matthew Fox, ‘Prayer’ (chapter 5)
Abraham Joshua Heschel, ‘The Prophets’
Ann Kansfield, ‘Be the Brave One’
Miguel De La Torre, ‘Decolonizing Christianity’
Dorothee Soelle, ‘The Silent Cry’

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Generosity

Reading Paul’s letter to the Galatians, we see that character is not only character embraced, it is also character enacted. Life in Christ is the life of extravagant virtue. William Barclay called it “virtue equipped at every point.” That’s a way of describing someone willing to provide whatever is needed to restore life to its God-made design.

This is what Jeannie was doing, from the moment she planned to refinish the furniture until she completed the project. Every act was virtuous—that is, it was aimed at restoration. She did this by painstakingly removing the layers, and then actively recovering the natural wood which had been there all along.

Paul exhibited both kinds of virtue in his letter to the Galatians. In terms of removal, he exposed the waxed fruit of legalism. In terms of recovery, he enjoined the fruit of the Spirit. It was the work he commended in Galatians 6:10, which he said would result in good being done to all. The letter to the Galatians reveals God’s steadfast love–God’s “whatever it takes” grace.

But there’s more, grace is not only boundless it is also bountiful. That’s why some translations use the word ‘generosity’ to describe the life Paul had in mind. This is life for others that goes beyond the minimum needed or required. Alive in Christ, we do not ask, “What’s the least I can do?” but rather, “How far beyond the least can I go?” It is what Jesus called going the extra mile (Matthew 5:41).

We see this in the parable of the good Samaritan in Luke 10:25-37. The Samaritan not only rescued the wounded man from the and rendered first-aid, he provided extended care—bountiful provision that created an open tab to cover any and all expenses needed to bring him to a complete healing.

Jesus said we are to be like the Samaritan; we are to “go and do likewise,” extending open-tab generosity to all in need. It is the generosity we see in God, beginning in creation, as God bespangled the world with more “kinds” of things than we can number. God is generous in genomes and galaxies, bountiful from the smallest particle to the farthest star. Christ sets us free from minimalism, liberating us to offer extravagant love to a world in need of it.

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Trustworthiness

Free in Christ, we understand that we inheritors of grace. We seek to be trustworthy in stewardship of it. Our responsibility may be to another person, to an aspect of the creation, or to an important task. Trustworthiness keeps watch over what is precious, making sure it is not lost, diminished, or compromised.

For Paul, it was his apostolic commission to expand the Gospel beyond Israel. Trustworthiness was his way of saying, “You can count on me to be sure that happens.”
So, it comes as no surprise that he weighed in when the Christian community in Galatia was in jeopardy. As he became involved, we learn some important things about living trustworthy lives.

We learn that it is an expression of what we consider to be sacred. In Galatia, it was the Gospel. So, when he learned that the Galatians were being tempted to follow “another gospel,” he had to intervene in the situation. He was not meddling, he was ministering—doing what he told others to do: “protect this good thing that has been placed in your trust” (2 Timothy 1:14). Trustworthiness was practicing what he preached. It was guarding the faith.

He expressed trustworthiness by being honest with the Galatians. Without batting an eye he said that the other gospel was, in fact, no gospel at all but only a confusing temptation to abandon the true Gospel (1:7). In order to be honest, he had to call out the dishonesty of the legalists. That’s why the spiritual life has to be informed by and integrated with all the words Paul used to describe the fruit of the Spirit.

Trustworthiness also includes speaking and acting with an aim in view. In the case of the Galatians, it was their freedom (5:1). This is, in fact, what legalism takes away from us. Grace sets us free to live in Christ. Trustworthiness movrd Paul to exhort the Galatians to “stand firm and don’t submit to the bondage of slavery again” (5:1).

We are called to be guardians with respect to anyone or anything in our care. We must guard them with the trustworthiness which says, “You can count on me.

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Tenderness

At first glance, tenderness appears to be largely absent in Paul’s letter to the Galatians. Many of his words are indictments which push back against the legalists’ perversions of the Gospel, going so far as to say that “ “they should be under a curse” (1:8). Where is tenderness in that?

The question is not surprising, and neither Paul nor anyone else should be exempt when they go over the line in their words or deeds. But the question may also be an indication that we have an incorrect view of tenderness—regarding it as only a gentle pat on the head or a soft-spoken term of endearment. In Paul’s letter to the Galatians, tenderness is defined by the word mercy (Galatians 6:1).

Some of you reading this will know about Brennan Manning. He wrote about and offered the wisdom of tenderness to people, which he described as God’s fierce mercy that transforms our lives (Brennan Manning, ‘The Wisdom of Tenderness’).Tenderness us restorative love, beginning in moving us to claim our belovedness and then speaking and acting in ways that enable others to know they are God’s beloved too.

Paul wrote his letter to the Galatians with this tenderness. He wrote with one intention—to recover the Gospel from being held hostage by legalism. Tenderness in this sense has nothing to do with our tone, but rather everything to do with our tenacity. it is our resolve to overcome evil with good.

Tenderness is also offering to others what we have been given by God. Paul knew that he had been given mercy when he was a legalist, an opponent of the Gospel (1 Timothy 1:16). There was a time when he was a stranger to grace. But God in mercy—a severe mercy that turned Paul inside out—eventually prevailed. Paul’s letter was a severe mercy (honest hard sayings) written with the hope that love (the essence of the fruit of the Spirit) would prevail in the legalists, just as it had in him when he was one.

Tenderness is freedom restored to us by Christ. In that freedom we cannot rest when anyone is a stranger to grace. Brennan calls this being a shepherd who “sustains their brothers and sisters in the human family. However, when the dignity of others is trampled by the machinations of political or religious leaders, they’re not afraid to stand up for the truth and sustain the disapproval of the power brokers.” Paul did this in his shepherd’s care of the Galatians. Liberated by Christ, we do the same.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

A Good Foundation

The fruitful life gives us a place to stand when the storms of life come. Jesus called it a good foundation (Matthew 7:24-26). The Galatians were in the midst of turmoil when Paul wrote to them. The liberating life of Christ formed in them would see them through their temptations and struggles.

Paul was ministering as a peace-maker, in the sense Jesus described it in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:9). He did so in the midst of the storm himself. The Judaizers were calling him a false apostle because he put love above law and a grace-based system above a performance-oriented one. But having met the risen Christ, Paul stood on the good foundation, refusing to have it supplanted by the Judaizers.

He wrote to the Galatians from the security of his life in Christ. Jesus was his good foundation, and he stood on it to refute the bogus critique and bad theology arising among the Galatians. Elton Trueblood wrote similarly in our time, bearing witness to the fact that Jesus gives us a place to stand, a place (as per Archimedes) to move the world (Elton Trueblood, ‘A Place to Stand’). Paul had this security.

Security gave him strength to push back against untruth. His lengthy self-defense was not about calling attention to himself, but about establishing his apostolic authenticity so that he could then go on to defend the Gospel with authority. The strength of peace comes not from ourselves, but rather from Christ, who gives us his peace (Johnn14:27). Paul had this strength.

Strength gave him staying power. The turmoil among the Galatians required a “labor of love” (4:19). Paul demonstrated his willingness to see things through until Christ was formed in the Galatians. There is a strength which says in the words of the Negro spiritual, “My mind is stayed on Jesus.” We call it endurance—a long-haul tenacity to see things through to God’s end.

From the Solid Rock (who is Christ), Paul wrote as a peace-maker. John Dear describes peace-making as the union of contemplation and action. (John Dear, ‘Living Peace’). This is a demanding peace—one that requires the contemplative task of living in Christ so that we see the truth , and the prophetic task of the exposing of lies by “speaking the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15). Contemplation and action combine to create pastoral ministry that leads people away from darkness into light. We see Paul doing these things in his letter to the Galatians, doing it with the strength of grace.

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Confidence

Paul had spent time in at least four of the cities in which the letter to the Galatians would have been read. Combining the seriousness of the crisis and the fact that he knew many of those caught up in it, it’s easy to imagine that Paul thought about going there and becoming tangibly involved. But he didn’t. Instead, he demonstrated confidence. We see it in Galatians in these ways.

First and foremost, he had confidence in God. He was not in Galatia, but the Spirit was. Paul trusted God was present and active. In ‘My Utmost for His Highest’ Oswald Chambers called this confidence that leaves room for God. This was not Paul staying out of the picture, but rather him realizing God was in it, caring more for the Galatians than he did.

Second, he had the confidence of delegation. There were devout disciples in each place where his letter would be read. They did not need Paul to sweep in and rescue them, but rather to sit down and resource them. One of the marks of a good leader is delegation—waiting in the confidence that others can handle the situation…and then, letting them do it. In that context, his letter was a better gift than his presence.

This was the confidence of perspective—the ability to see that the movement from the old order (legalism) to the new order (grace) occurs little-by-little, with disorder in between. But the disorder is not an unpopulated vacuum. People are present with wisdom and encouragement. If we had been there, Paul could have told us their names. He had confidence in them.

I experienced this firsthand. While on sabbatical, the campus where I served as the administrative leader suffered an unexpected crisis. I was about three thousand miles away, and would be so for months. My first reaction was to book a flight and head back home. And then…I began to remember those who were there. Everyone of them was capable of facing the challenge. I stayed where I was, not writing an epistle like Paul did, but rather a batch of emails, and spending hours on the phone. My decision to remain on sabbatical and trust the folks at the campus was rooted in my confidence of them.

Third, Paul had the confidence of faith—what the writer of Hebrews called “things hoped for” (Hebrews 11:1). There were no guarantees, but there was hope that God would deliver the Galatians from the evil of legalism. Paul was confident that through Christ the Galatians were enroute to the new creation (Galatians 6:15). The Judaizers would not prevail.

More than once I have written that abundant life is the life of live—that our experience of good-wood Jesus is our encounter with love. Transforming love. The hardest thing to do in a theology of love is to believe that, in the midst of crisis, love wins!

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Compassion

Every major religion emphasizes compassion as a sign that the life of God is present in us and active through us. Compassion is a key indicator that we do not live selfishly. In ‘The Art of Living’ Thich Naht Hanh called compassion the freeing of ourselves from the idea of separateness, giving us the energy to help others.

Paul had this. He ministered to the Galatians with compassion. We see it in the terms he used as he wrote to the Galatians, calling them his children and telling them he was experiencing labor pains until Christ was formed in them. He had backed up those words with actual presence in Galatia.

There is an old saying, “People care how much you know when they know how much you care.” That’s why we can imagine that the Galatians took Paul’s letter to heart—they knew they were in his heart. Every word to them, even the hard ones, came from his heart. Paul was speaking the truth to them in love (Ephesians 4:15).

Paul’s letter to the Galatians is an example of prophetic writing. Arising out of compassion generated from love, he used his letter to call out evil, call for change, and call forth hope. As I noted earlier, his aim was emancipation, a sign of prophetic intent and an expression of what we experience when we are alive in Christ.

Compassion is grace setting us free from the law of sin and death (Romans 8:2). Compassion is deliverance from evil, something we ask for each time we pray the Lord’s Prayer. Compassion is manifesting the spirit of Jesus (Matthew 9:36).

Compassion is the context in which God works. It is Immanuel—”God with us.” We call this the ministry of presence, and we usually think of that presence in a tangible sense. But we also say, “I will be with you in spirit,” and that is a real presence too. In whatever sense, compassion is our willingness to do whatever we can to improve someone else’s life.

We must not limit our understanding of Paul’s compassion to those who were being tempted to return to legalism. His call to live freely in Christ included any of the Judaisers who might embrace grace. Just as Paul knew the struggling Galatian Christians, he likely knew the legalists too. Did he show them compassion?. I believe so. How? By making his letter a defense of his ministry and the Gospel, not an attack on the troublemakers.

Paul spoke to the problem, not against people. This left open the possibility that the legalists could become repentant, and be received into the fellowship that had never ceased to love them. Compassion was the bridge over which reconciliation could occur.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Part Three: Restoration

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To Life!

When Jeannie completed the refinishing process, it gave the bedroom furniture a new lease on life. It was almost as if we could hear each piece saying, “Thank you for revealing what I really am!” And rather than having guests stay in the old lime-green room, we looked forward to offering them lodging in the revitalized one.

I believe that the New Awakening we are experiencing in our day is a recovery of life. Paul used the word freedom to describe it (Galatians 5:1). Liberation was Paul’s theme throughout Galatians. And as the letter makes clear, his aim was the restoration of life, not bringing something new into the picture. It was life the Galatians had experienced via Paul’s ministry, but had been lured away from by the Judaizers.

Sadly, in our day, Christians have been lured away from the life that comes when we feed on the fruit of the Spirit and fed instead on waxed-fruit substitutes. There are too many name, but the Prosperity Gospel and Christian Nationalism are prime illustrations. Christians today, like those in Galatia, have been deceived. But thanks be to God, things are changing.

The liberation of Jesus from layers of distortion is resulting in new life for those who experience good-wood Jesus. This freeing is also revitalizing the Church through fresh expressions that make him known in both old and new ways. In this way, Jesus said, we are manifesting life in the kingdom of God (Matthew 13:52).

Charles Wesley penned Paul’s sentiment in his hymn, “And Can It Be,” Long my imprisoned spirit lay, Fast bound in sin and nature’s night; Thine eye diffused a quickening ray; I woke, the dungeon flamed with light; My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

In this final section of the book, we will move around Paul’s letter to see what the restoration of abundant living meant for the Galatians, and what it can mean today.

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Beloved Children

When we look for life in Paul’s letter to the Galatians, it shines brightly when he calls them, “my little children” (4:19). From these words, we receive some key insights into life as Paul understood it.

First, it is an endearment. It is a phrase showing Paul’s deep affection for the Galatians. His time in the region during his first missionary journey had formed a deep bond, one akin to a parent for a child. What we learn about life from this is that it is relational, not transactional. Paul’s love for the Galatians was genuine, person-to-person, heart-to-heart.

From here we move quickly a second quality: it is empathetic. Paul compared it to being in labor (4:19). Those who are parents, or have deep friendships, know they include pain—not just pain which comes through observation, but which comes by taking the pain into ourselves. “I feel your pain” is no cliché, it is the cry of the heart. In 6:2, Paul writes of burden bearing, another sign of empathy. What he tells them to do for others, he is doing for them. And he says this kind of empathy fulfills the law of Christ, which is love (John 15:12).

Out of Paul’s endearment and empathy, Paul issues an exhortation. Parental love does not remain silent when loved ones are in danger. It shouts. It pleads. The bulk of Galatians is that—an exhortation not to go backward to legalism, but to move forward in grace. Paul even says he wishes he could be there to say all this in person, but since he was not present, he amplified his appeal. It is the appeal of having beloved children, made so strongly that he ends the letter writing big letters (all caps) in his own hand. In his love, Paul cries out, “Don’t fall for the lies of those who would imprison you! Stay free in Christ!”

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Blessedness

Life in Christ produces inward and outward blessedness. Jesus used the word to define abundant living in the Sermon on the Mount. In doing so, he was restoring an understanding of life found throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. (Amy-Jill Levine, The Sermon on the. Mount (Abingdon Press, 2020), chapter one. Paul used the word joy to communicate the same idea to the Galatians.

Blessedness (makarios) is life that first forms our character, and then informs our conduct. This was Jesus’ intent in the Beatitudes, and it was Paul’s in his letter to the Galatians, which he said is Christ formed in us (Galatians 4:19). Galatians would have known about the linking of joy and character. Simply put, it the belief that Christ formed in us produces inward and outward blessedness.

This is the blessing of integrity—when the inward and outward dimensions of our lives are in sync. Eugene Peterson called this congruence. He wrote about it in his book, ‘As Kingfishers Catch Fire,’ The Christian life is the lifelong practice of attending to the details of congruence— congruence between ends and means, con- gruence between what we do and the way we do it, congruence between what is written in Scripture and our living out what is written, congruence between a ship and its prow…the congruence of the Word made flesh in Jesus with what is lived in our flesh (xviii).

Paul would rejoice upon reading these words, for in them he would see the note of joy running through them. It is the blessedness of singularity. He wanted nothing more for the Galatians than for them to incarnate the incarnation—for the Word made flesh to be alive in and through them. And still today, the happiest people, those who feel the most blessed are not those who profess faith, but those who go on to express it.

This blessedness of integrity gives rise to courage. We defend what we commend. Henri Nouwen was deeply moved by this kind of courage when he lived among Christians in Latin America. In the midst of their being opposed and persecuted, he found them to be full of joy. (Henri Nouwen, ‘Gracias!’). He saw them experiencing and expressing the blessedness Jesus taught and Paul commended—courage to resist evil by overcoming it with good.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Unpainted Self-Control in Jesus

Jesus unpainted is self-control, or more nearly the self under the control of the Spirit. Self-control is love overcoming egotism. When that is the case, the “fruit” is self-mastery. I believe that self-control is the container into which the other eight words are poured. Without self-control, the other aspects of a fruitful life will be a spillage rather than a pouring.

Jesus’ sense of self-control can be seen when, at the age of twelve, he said he had to be about the Father’s business (Luke 2:49). Following him through the gospels we see that business as nothing other than manifesting the fruit of the Spirit in character and conduct. It took self-control (a self under control) for that to happen.

Jesus’ self-control was spot on in congruence with the Greek idea of it—that is, leaders who never let their private interests influence how they relate to others. It is what Jesus meant when he taught that the greatest of all are servants of all (Matthew 23:11). And the last time he was with his disciples before his arrest and crucifixion, he illustrated it by washing their feet.

In his self-control, we see Jesus’ submission, what Paul wrote about in Philippians 2:5-8 as his self-emptying, and taking the form of a servant, whose humble obedience was manifested all the way to his death. Self-control is the initiative of servanthood.

It is also the resistance of evil. It began in his overcoming the temptations of satan, and continued on numerous occasions after that. Peter wrote about it when Jesus was before Pilate, but when reviled, he did not revile in return (1Peter 2:23). There was nothing more loving than refusing to be retributive, even when he had the right to be.

Jesus’ self-control was his refusal to take the low road and end up being consumed by egocentrism, which drains love out of our lives through the colander of negativity. Instead, he was the wineskin of the Gospel, the Word become flesh, who loved us all to the end.

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Unpainted Self-Control in Us

Unpainted self-control was in Mohandas Gandhi. I have intentionally stepped outside Christianity in order to make it clear that the fruit of the Spirit is not exclusive to Christians. Christ is in all (Colossians 3:11), and as Peter put it, “whoever worships God and does what is right is acceptable to him” (Acts 10:35).

Gandhi was that kind of person, and he understood himself in the light of self-control, writing that “the call to lead India did not come to me in the nature of a sudden realization. I prepared for it by fasting and self-discipline.” M.K. Gandhi, ‘Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi,’ Vol. 48 (Government of India, 1994), 63). Gandhi’s practices are reminders that we live through attitudes and actions of renunciation.

John Wesley saw life the same way, beginning the prayer in the annual Methodist Covenant Renewal Service with the words, “I am no longer my own but thine.” From that realization we then move on in the prayer to offering ourselves to God in whatever ways God chooses to use us, or not use us. Self-control is the step which the Spirit moves us to make in our service to God.

E. Stanley Jones felt so strongly about this that he wrote a book about it. Entitled, ‘Mastery’ he offers a year’s worth of guidance in what he called “the art of masterful living.” ( 0E. Stanley Jones, ‘Mastery,’ xi). And on page one of the Introduction he left no doubt that masterful living emerges from self-control, “Mastery is not gained by trying to be masterful…mastery is gained by humbly relating your life to a Life that is masterful.”

Self-control is a spring of action motivated by a Person and persons outside ourselves. Freed from egotism, we are free to love.

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Putting It Together

Before we leave the fruit of the Spirit and our look at each dimension as an aspect of Jesus unpainted, let’s think of the nine words as-a-whole. We can do this in the words Paul wrote immediately after the list: “There is no law against things like this” (Galatians 5:23).

We might say it like this: Jesus unpainted is the good-wood incarnation of abundant living. When we live like him, we never go against the grain of God’s will. We never need wonder if we are pleasing God. Manifesting the fruit of Spirit is never wrong. It is living the way we are meant to live.

Paul went out of his way to ingrain this truth into the lives of Galatian Christians. He cut through the painted-over layers of legalism, exposing the good wood of grace. The life of love (exhibited through each of the words) is indeed what Paul called “a more excellent way” (1 Corinthians 12:31).

Jesus unpainted is the revelation of this Way (John 14:6). We see Life in him, and as we abide in him, we live abundantly (John 10:10).. In the next section of the book, we will explore what this means.

Along the Way: Sidewalk Spirituality

I have written about the Wesleyan way’s expression of many things found in the Franciscan tradition. [1] But I am not going back to that, lest I get stuck in my previous thinking. I want to write what I am thinking about now, even if I have written similarly in the past.

Today, Richard Rohr’s term “sidewalk spirituality” is what has captured my attention, a term he says describes the essence of the Franciscan tradition in which he finds himself. [2] This kind of spirituality is exactly what the Wesleys emphasized in their term “practical divinity.” It is the kind of spirituality described in the term “ordinary holiness.”

Sidewalk spirituality ends up being the only kind there is, because the life of God in the human soul (Henry Scougal) is meant to hit the streets. Sidewalk spirituality is the only kind there is because as in Jesus, the Word is always meant to become flesh (John 1:14). Spirituality may come to us via language, but it must then be lived. Otherwise, it goes bad like unpicked fruit.

When the Holy Spirit indwells us and produces fruit, it is life characterized by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness (generosity), and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). It is fruit lived, not left on the tree. Sidewalk spirituality forbids us from only admiring this fruit; it requires us to actualize it.

Sidewalk spirituality is the kind Jesus personified and that Paul described in Philippians 2:5-11. It is not left in heavenly places, but is rather taken into all the world. It is not held in the clutches of hubris, but rather handed out in the touches of humility. It gives, both as its means of staying alive and helping others to live as well. Sidewalk spirituality does little things with great love (St. Teresa of Calcutta), and it does this good to all (Galatians 6:10).

Years ago, I asked Richard Foster what his hope was after he taught something. He replied, “I hope people leave saying, ‘I can do that.’” Jesus taught us with that same hope. Sidewalk spirituality is our “I can do that” response to grace.

[1] See my previous post “Love: The Wesleys” (April 22, 2020) archived in the “Love” category as one example of my earlier thoughts about the Franciscan/Wesleyan connection.
[2] Richard Rohr ‘Eager To Love’ (Franciscan Media, 2014), 52. Rohr’s daily meditations this week (March 17-23, 2024) focus on everyday spirituality.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Unpainted Gentleness in Jesus

Jesus unpainted is gentle. Gentleness is love doing no harm. Gentleness is living with the perspective that “life is fragile, handle with care.” Gentleness goes out of its way to insure that the sacred worth of everyone is affirmed, in word and deed.

Jesus did this in spades. There were no “others” or “less than” people in his life or ministry. To make this clear he emphasized caring for “little ones” and for those said to be “the least of these” in society. In doing this we see him deliberately connecting with the anawim, frequently mentioned in the Hebrew scriptures—thos who were treated injustly in whatever way.

Gentleness does not play favorites; it includes all in its care. Jesus called this “complete love” (Matthew 5:48) in contrast to partial love. A look at the Sermon the Mount shows that “complete love” is the apex of his message. The rest of the Sermon illustrates some aspect of true spirituality. Gentleness is another word for the Golden Rule, “treating others as we would want to be treated.”

Moreover, Jesus set his invitation to others to rest in him in the context of gentleness (Matthew 11:28-30). The life God wants for us and offers us in Christ is not burdensome. It is not complex or a life which feels subject to cancellation. Jesus’ gentleness creates an atmosphere of welcome, communion, security, and joy.
Gentle Jesus is gentle with us. In that confidence, we are drawn into his company.

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Unpainted Gentleness in Us

Unpainted gentleness was in Dorothy Day. It was her aim “to look upon all as our mothers, sisters, brothers, and children.” (Michael Garvey, ‘Dorothy Day: Selections from Her Writings,’ 37). This is gentleness in all directions, dimensions, and relationships. Looking at her life over the years, we see her faithfulness in relation to this commitment.

Dorothy did not come to her gentleness quickly or easily, nor did she always show it. There were hard days and rough edges in her life, as she herself confessed. But by God’s grace “she always came back to the needs of flesh-and-blood people” seeking reconciliation with and asking for forgiveness from any whom she offended. (A review by Bailey Shannon of Kate Hennessy’s book, ‘Dorothy Day: The World Will Be Saved by Beauty’ (Scribner, 2017) in Sojourners Magazine, March 2017, 45. Hennessy is Day’s grand daughter.)

Day’s practice of gentleness was genuine and realistic, forged in the furnace of struggle. In this respect, we see the three major aspects of gentleness in the New Testament. First, it is submissive to the will of God. Second, it is teachable. And third, it is considerate. (William Barclay, ‘The Letters to the Galatians and Ephesians,’ 56-57). Gentleness is what Jesus called meekness in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:5).

Gentleness is our aim in life when we understand that we are entangled in a web of oneness (Romans 12:5). It is the way we seek to relate to everyone, but especially to those who are difficult to love. Gentleness is our refusal to return evil with evil (1 Peter 3:9). But more than that, it is taking initiative to act for the good of others, no matter who they are.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Unpainted Faithfulness in Jesus

Jesus unpainted is faithful. Faithfulness is love being trustworthy. We say of faithful people, “You can count on them.” Faithful people are reliable.

Jesus was this, beginning with his relationship to his heavenly Father. John captured it in Jesus’ use of the phrase “sent one.” Jesus was faithful to the mission God had sent him into the world to fulfill. His last words could on the cross can be translated, “Mission accomplished!” (John 19:30). The writer of Hebrews captured the same idea in saying that Jesus was a “faithful high priest in things relating to God” (Hebrews 2:17).

Jesus’ faithfulness came naturally. Eight times in the Gospel of John, he said that he only wanted to do what the Father told him to do: John 4:34, 5:19, 5:36, 8:26-29, 8:38, 10:37, 12:49-50, and 14:24. This was the hallmark of his life and ministry. Genuineness characterized everything he said and did, things large and small.

Jesus’ faithfulness endured temptation, on two major occasions. In the wilderness he remained faithful to God and his mission. In the garden of Gethsemane, he spoke his ultimate faithfulness when he said, “Not my will but your will must be done” (Luke 22:42).

Without a doubt, there were other occasions when Jesus’ faithfulness was tested. We can see it in his endurance in the face of opposition and misunderstanding coming from religious leaders, family members, and his own apostles. As we put it today, Jesus “kept on keeping on.” He was faithful to the end.

In his book, Traveling Light,’ Eugene Peterson wrote about faithfulness in the same way, calling it “the freedom to be involved in long-term, loyal commitments based invisible values and meanings rather than immediate and tangible self-interests.” Jesus was faithful in this way.

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Unpainted Faithfulness in Us

Unpainted faithfulness was in Oscar Romero. Assassinated while celebrating Holy Communion, he knew his days were numbered. Like Paul, he counted all things as loss for the sake of knowing Christ and being found faithful in him (Philippians 3:7-9). He captured this in these words, “the pastoral and evangelical path that I try to be faithful to is not craziness nor subversion, rather it is simply humble faithfulness to the commandment of the Lord.” (Irene Hodgson, ‘Through the Year with Oscar Romero,’ Day 161).

St. Francis de Sales echoed the same sentiment in his favorite prayer, “Yes, Father! Yes! And always Yes!” Evelyn Underhill, ‘The Fruit of the Spirit’). In these words we see that faithfulness is obedience, a listening to the Divine Voice with the intention of putting into practice what we hear.

Faithfulness means that we live for a purpose larger than self-interest. It is what we pray when we say, “thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” The Eugene Peterson quote in the previous meditation comes back into play, this time in relation to us, reminding us that we too have “the freedom to be involved in long-term, loyal commitments based invisible values and meanings rather than immediate
and tangible self-interests.” The freedom of faithfulness is given by the Holy Spirit to us, just as it was to Jesus.

Evelyn Underhill summed up faithfulness in these words, “We soon realize that sturdy faithfulness alone will see us through and that long fidelity up hill and down dale, in sickness and health, in riches and poverty, in good weather and bad, is not going to be very easy to maintain. Of ourselves we cannot do it….In fact we shall only maintain it in so far as we do it with and for God.” (Evelyn Underhill, ‘The Fruit of the Spirit,’ 36-37).

Underhill’s allusion to marriage vows is important, and a good way to end this meditation. Faithfulness is an aspect of the fruit of the Spirit. Once becoming real in us, it is a vow of fidelity which we make to God and others. In faithfulness, we are married to God, and to everyone and everything.

Along the Way: Don’t Quit!

Sometimes we send signals we don’t realize we’re sending. And so it was for me one day walking down a hallway at Duke University. I was lost in thought, anxious thought actually. I no longer remember the details; it had something to do with my PhD dissertation—some snag I was feeling.
Coming toward me was Bob Wilson, a Divinity School faculty member, who had become a friend along the way. He received my signal, asking me when close enough to do so, “Are you okay?” I came-to and told him what was bothering me. Bob put both of his hands on my shoulders, stared me in the eye and said, “Steve, remember this: a PhD is an endurance degree. If you don’t quit, you’ll get it.” His reply not only provided me some immediate encouragement, it evolved into a life principle I try to enact to this very day.

Richard Rohr did many of us a great service describing life as a journey from order, through disorder, into reorder. [1] He did not invent this idea; it’s present in Jung’s writings [2], along with others who use the journey metaphor as a lens for seeing how we live. Not surprisingly, the Bible too views life as a movement from orientation, through disorientation, into reorientation. [3]

The remembrance of my encounter with Bob Wilson decades ago has moved me to think more about the disorientation phase of life, what Jung called “the middle passage.” It is the birth canal from womb to world. It is a time of struggle for us and a time of pain for those around us who are watching us be “born anew.” It is the time when the Holy Spirit meets us in the hallway of our soul, puts both hands on our shoulders and says, “Life is an endurance experience. If you don’t quit, you’ll make it.”

“Don’t quit” is what we must hear because quitting is what we are most tempted to do in times of disorientation. Quitting is what the back-to-Egypt committee wanted Moses to do, alleging that he was crazy to have led them into the wilderness, and that the only sensible thing to do was turn back. “Don’t quit” is what we must do if we are to become those who experience the reorientation that the Bible calls the new creation. “Don’t quit” captures the essence of Jesus’ admonition to put our hand to the plow…and not look back (Luke 9:62).

Make no mistake….the choice to continue on is the most difficult one we ever make. It comes to us in what Hollis calls “a fearsome clash.” Our personal status quos tempt us to return to the known ways. Our chosen group’s sacred cows do likewise, even going so far as to say we will have “gone down the slippery slope” if we don’t remain with them. The struggle we experience in disorder is the soul’s struggle to “choose this day whom you will serve.”

Hollis puts it this way, “The lens we received generated a conditional life, which represents not who we are, but how we were conditioned to see life and make choices. We succumb to the belief that the way we have grown to see the world is the only way to see it, the right way to see it, and we seldom suspect the conditioned nature of our perception.” [4] In disorder, we put everything on the table, so that we can separate wheat from chaff.

But here’s the thing….when we realize this is the way life works, when we understand this is the journey, we will no longer hear the siren song to remain the same. We will instead hear the divine call to be transformed, to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and savior Jesus Christ.” (2 Peter 3:18)). To use Paul’s clothing metaphor, we will interpret the disorder as the birth-pangs of opportunity to put off the old and put on the new (Ephesians 4:22-24). When we do, we enter the early stages of reordering, which Jesus referred to as living in the kingdom of God—an enlargement of life (in both depth and breadth), a saying “no” to keeping the wine of God in our old containers and putting it into the new wineskins Jesus called abundant living.

To do this, we must have people in our lives whose example and encouragement send us the message, “You’ll make it if you don’t quit.” [5]

[1] Richard Rohr has written of this in more than one of his books: ‘Falling Upward’ and ‘The Universal Christ’ and ‘The Wisdom Pattern’ are three key ones.
[2] James Hollis, ‘The Middle Passage: From Misery to Meaning.’
[3] Walter Brueggemann, ‘Spirituality of the Psalms.’ In his book, ‘The Creative Word’ he shows how the Old Testament literature forms us in relation to this movement.
[4] I took this quote from Maria Popova’s ‘The Marginalian’ (March 10, 2024). It is from the book I referenced in footnote #2, but not cited with a page location.
[5] Since the day Bob Wilson spoke these words to me, the idea of long-haul discipleship has grown in my spiritual formation. In recent years, it is counsel which has increased in me the importance of nonviolent resistance in these challenging times.

“Oboedire Sounds” Returns

I resolved issues with Spotify which shut down “Oboedire Sounds” for a while.

It resumes with episode 64 (9:00 minutes), “Mystic-Wisdom-Prophets” as the lens we need to take Jesus seriously, and to live in the world as God intends.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Unpainted Goodness in Jesus

Jesus is unpainted goodness. Goodness is love’s character and conduct. Luke summed up his life in these words, “Jesus traveled around doing good” (Acts 10:38).” That’s quite a statement—that no matter where he went or what he did, he made goodness his aim.

Remembering that Jesus was the incarnation of the eternal and universal Christ, Luke’s summary makes even more sense. The first creation story (Genesis 1:1–2:4) uses the word ‘good’ seven times to describe what God was making. And recalling that the Word, who became flesh in Jesus, was the one through whom everything was made (John 1:3), it is no surprise that goodness was at the heart of Jesus’ character and conduct.

But in his humanity, he came by it honestly. Matthew tells us that his father, Joseph, was a good man, and he shows how Joseph demonstrated that goodness toward Mary during an especially stressful time (Matthew 1:19-25). That vignette is enough to wish we had more in the gospels about him. But given the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, chances are we see a lot of Joseph in Jesus—a lot of goodness inherited from both his fathers, heavenly and earthly.

So, Jesus went about doing good. Read through the lens of goodness nearly everything Jesus said and did can be seen advancing it. Or to say it another way, life was always better when Jesus was in it. This is one aspect of goodness—it is a broad application of love to all of life.

It is this broad-spectrum love which moved the translators of the NRSVue to use the word ‘generosity’ to describe this aspect of the fruit of the Spirit. Goodness is deep-and-wide in its expressions. It is goodness manifesting an abundance mentality which says, “What’s mine is yours, I will share it.” It is the kind of goodness the good Samaritan gave to the man in the ditch.

As clear as this is, there is another dimension of Jesus’ goodness: he did not call attention to it. In fact, when someone called him “Good Teacher,” Jesus immediately asked, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except the one God” (Luke 18:18-19). Scholars comment on this exchange in various ways, but the one that fits with the fruit of the Spirit is that Jesus’ incarnation of goodness was marked by intention and by humility. Our commitment to goodness will have the same two hallmarks.

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Unpainted Goodness in Us

Unpainted kindness is in Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter. In keeping with the biblical revelation of goodness in the first creation story, and in congruence with Jesus’ incarnation of it in the gospels, they manifest kindness in all sorts of ways. Jimmy Carter spoke of it this way, “Our commitment to human rights must be absolute, our laws fair, our natural beauty preserved; the powerful must not persecute the weak, and human dignity must be enhanced.” (Philip Yancey, personal blog, March 27, 2023).

But more, the kindness of the Carters is also seen in the little things as well. They were on the list of those in their local church in Plains, Georgia who mowed the lawn and cleaned the bathrooms. Along the same line, many of us remember their hands-on work building houses in the Habitat for Humanity ministry.

We do not use them as illustrations of goodness because they were a First Family in the USA, but because they lived good lives marked by the qualities of intention and humility that we noted in the last meditation. They have committed themselves to goodness for decades in a multitude of ways, never making it about them.

Goodness is evidenced in a concern for the enrichment of live in its various facets. Walter Brueggemann links goodness with justice because it is the pursuit of the common good (Walter Brueggemann, ‘Journey to the Common Good’ revised edition). When goodness is in play everyone and everything is enhanced.

Meditating on goodness is a place to note something about each aspect of the fruit of the Spirit—that is, each one is communal. No single person is called or capable of being involved in every good cause. Goodness is done when individuals do their part to make a few things good. In the larger economy of God, goodness is done in many places through many people.

When we manifest the fruit of the Spirit, we will be drawn into community. With respect to goodness it means being co-laborers with God and others, with the intention of Jesus, to travel around doing good.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Unpainted Kindness in Jesus

Jesus is unpainted kindness. Kindness is love showing compassion. Jesus lived and led from the heart. The gospel writers tell us that when he saw people, he had compassion on them. In the Buddhist tradition, compassion is a key indicator of a person’s enlightenment. Thich Nhat Hahn wrote of it, “Real love means loving-kindness and compassion, the kind of love that does not have any conditions.” (Melvin McLeod, ed., ‘Your True Home: The Everyday Wisdom of Thich Nhat Hahn’). We see this in Jesus in a variety of ways.

His kindness began at home, loving his family deeply and faithfully for thirty years before he began his ministry. We forget that 90% of his life was in Nazareth, where day after day he loved and cared for those closest to him. This likely meant becoming the one who stepped in when Joseph died to keep the family business going. In these ways he enacted kindness.

On “day one” of his ministry, he announced in his inaugural address in Nazareth’s synagogue that the Spirit of the Lord was upon him, and that the heart of his mission would be to care for those who were poor, imprisoned, blind, and oppressed (Luke 4:18). He made good on his promise every day for the rest of his life.

He welcomed those who came to him for help, and in addition to that he took initiative to seek out those in need. In the course of his travels, he would stop to care for children, grieving people, sick ones, and any others whom he encountered. On a few occasions, his pausing to be kind frustrated his own disciples, who felt like he had “more important things to do.” By his acts of kindness he was telling them there is never anything more important than caring for another person.

He capped it all off in the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37), telling his hearers to “go and do likewise.” And lest people thought he meant being kind on special occasions or when there was a crisis, he taught that offering someone a cup of cold water was important (Matthew 10:42).

We are living in an abrasive and abusive time. Instead of feeling the kindness of others, many feel kicked to the curb by them. When we are filled with the Spirit, our assignment is summed up in two words, “be kind.”

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Unpainted Kindness in Us

Unpainted kindness was in Mother Teresa, now St. Teresa of Calcutta. Most of us carry images of her showing kindness to others, especially the dying. Starting with her stopping to help a dying man on the street, she went on to found The Order of the Missionaries of Charity which today has more than 4,500 members in 133 countries. Like other monastic orders, they take vows of chastity (morality), poverty (simplicity) and obedience—with an added fourth vow to give “wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor.”

Teresa put kindness at the heart of her life and the life of the Order exhorting those who joined to “be the living expression of God’s kindness: kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile.” (MT, 289). She operated with the conviction that we show great love through small deeds.

This is the life of kindness we are called to have. Anyone can be kind now and then. It takes a different intention to be kind moment by moment. Anyone can be kind when the camera is rolling. It takes another action to be kind when no one is around to see it. In the seventeenth century, Brother Lawrence described this sort of kindness when he said that we can do little things for God. Closer to our time, Thérèse of Lisieux personified kindness in a way of life she called the little way.

But we do not have to look to the saints to see the greatness of littleness. We run into people we may not have seen in a long time who say, “I will never forget the time you___________.” We may not even remember what it was that we said or did. But they do. And almost always it was something simple. We remember simple kindness.

When we are bearing the fruit of the Spirit, we will be kind. Kindness is love showing compassion, one “cupful” at a time.

Along the Way: Hopeless Hope

If you read the title of this post and think, “There’s no such thing,” you are right where I was when I first came upon the idea. I can only ask you to do what I did when I considered it: keep reading.

Miguel A. De La Torre introduced me to the idea (what he calls a theology of hopelessness), that I am calling hopeless hope. He finds it to be both biblical (Romans 4:18) and contemporary. In fact, he writes (and I agree) that hopeless hope is part of the Story that we must not exclude…for the simple reason that the world’s disenfranchised people live daily in conditions which are hopeless and show no signs of being otherwise. [1]

Reading his article, written ten years ago (I only recently found it in the Good Faith Media archives), and connecting it with other things I have read from him, I believe we must incorporate hopeless hope into our theology. Why?

Because hopeless hope keeps us biblical, as De La Torre makes clear, using Paul’s reference to Abraham as “Exhibit A.” He had hope when hopeless, what we often call “hoping against hope.” But remembering that, we move quickly to the verse that connects hope to things “not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). And that’s followed by a chapter filled with people who died not receiving what they hoped for (Hebrews 11:39). Every day since then, the reign of evil increases their numbers. The Bible tells us so.

Hopeless hope also keeps us real. There are times when “having hope” gets you nothing. The saints are not afraid to say so; we must not be afraid to say so as well. Amy Carmichael, for example, wrote to a friend and said that the spiritual life “has pain in it too”—something she knew firsthand. [2] But here’s the thing: spirituality is reality; that’s what makes it genuine. Otherwise, it is counterfeit. Hopeless hope enables us to live with the fact that sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. There are times when you have more than enough, and other times when you’re left holding the bag—an empty one.

Hopeless hope is what keeps us engaged. Hope as a deferred metaphor creates passivity, and that most among the privileged, who so adopt a futuristic faith when everything will be made new, that they do little, if anything, to make anything new right now. But hopeless hope does not accept the status quo; it challenges it, for the simple reason that it has no reputation to uphold and nothing to lose. Hopeless hope disenfranchises us.

De La Torre concludes, “The disenfranchised have no option but to continue their struggle for justice regardless of the odds against them. They continue the struggle, if not for themselves, for their progeny.” When we read his words correctly, we realize that the privileged are as disenfranchised as the poor because the “dirty rotten system” oppresses and subjugates everyone but its own. Hopeless hope is our “hell no!” to that system—another response rooted in Scripture, voiced by Peter in Acts 8:20. Hopeless hope is badass Christianity. [3]

Hopeless hope overturns tables in the temple on the way to the cross. Hopeless hope resists Nazism on the way to the gallows. Hopeless hope dreams enroute to Memphis.

[1] Miguel A. De La Torre, “For the World’s Ultra Poor, Hope is Not Apparent” (Good Faith Media, March 7, 2013).
[2] Amy Carmichael, ‘Candles in the Dark’ (CLC Publications, 1981), 14.
[3] This is De La Torre’s term for the kind of faith required to overcome evil with good. He writes about it in detail in three books, ‘Burying White Privilege: Resurrecting Badass Christianity’ (2018), ‘Decolonizing Christianity: Becoming Badass Believers (2021), and ‘Resisting Apartheid America: Living the Badass Gospel’ (2023)

Little Lights: Introduction

We make the spiritual journey one step at a time. The “Little Lights” facebook page is a ministry I launched in February 2024, offering daily brief meditations to illuminate your journey.

Here is the link to the “Little Lights” page…

https://www.facebook.com/little.lights.2024?mibextid=ZbWKwL

My decision to begin “Little Lights” emerges from a brief writing by Amy Carmichael, using the metaphor of ancient oil lamps. Her bit of wisdom has shined good light on my path for a long time,

“W don’t walk spiritually by electric light, but by a hand-held lantern. A lantern shows only the next step–not several steps ahead. If only the next step is clear, then the one thing to do is take it!” (‘Candles in the Dark’)

We can travel a million miles if we see the next step, and take it. “Little Lights” is meant to be a lamp, a lantern that illuminates a small step in our life journey.

One of the downsides of social media is that things can get lost in the news feed (though you can search for words in them). So, I have created a “Little Lights” category to archive some things I mention on the facebook page. It’s in the Categories list on the Oboedire home page.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Unpainted Patience in Jesus

Jesus is unpainted patience. Patience is love waiting in hope. When we apply this to Jesus, the list of things he had to wait for is a long one. And as the excarnate Christ, he still waits for the kingdoms of this world to become the kingdom of God. Jesus’ patience is obvious and remarkable.

In Jesus we learn that patience is waiting in hope. It is living with the attitude. That says, “they may not get it immediately, but eventually they will.” Jesus’ parables were taught in hope. His conversation’s were conducted in hope. He put up with the fickleness of his disciples in hope.

Patience in Jesus was also a learn-by-doing quality. His disciples were apprentices on the open road more than students in a classroom. They learned through observation and participation. This meant Jesus had to endure their mistakes, putting them in the larger context of incremental improvement.

But more than any of this, we see the patience of Jesus in his passion—that is, the suffering he endured. We often think of this with respect to holy week (from Palm Sunday through Saturday), but his passion was longer than that. It began early in his ministry when the religious leaders opposed him so much that they began making plans to destroy him (Mark 3:6). Along the way he endured the allegations that he was mentally ill, demon possessed, and not a true Jew (MBJ, chapters nine and ten).

Sometimes his own family and followers did not know what to make of him. And in the end, one in his own company betrayed him, while the rest abandoned him. Through it all, he demonstrated patience far beyond the normal, and on the cross he expressed his patience in these words, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing (Luke 23:34).

We are benefactors of Jesus’ patience. As the cosmic, universal Christ, he continues to offer it to us. And as the Spirit infills us, we bear the fruit of it in our relationships with others.

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Unpainted Patience in Us

Unpainted patience was in Nelson Mandela (Sid Naidu, “Nelson Mandela On Developing Patience That Can Change the World,” SNDC Media, July 18, 2918). One of the phrases he often used was “in the long run.” It’s what we refer to as perspective. But it is insight born of hope. Mandela lived patience, not only as a philosophy, but as endurance over the course of twenty-seven years of imprisonment. He understood that progress is a long game. Patience is redemptive suffering over the long haul.

Jesus had this patience. We see it in his sense that his ministry only set the stage for a continuing unfolding of the kingdom of God (Matthew 28:16-20; Acts 1:8). Pentecost universalized this, and through patience God continues the work of ultimate redemption (2 Peter 3:9; Ephesians 1:9-10).

Is it more difficult to be patient now than it was then? Probably not when we recognize the immediacy and intensity of Jesus’ suffering. But it is true that we live in a time when patience is often replaced by intolerance, dualistic thinking, and quick-fix mentality. If we are to manifest patience, we must pray for grace to do so.
We need patience first with ourselves. As with the other dimensions of the fruit of the Spirit, the life of patience begins inwardly. People who are impatient with others are usually impatient with themselves. Perfectionism is the genesis of impatience, morphing into legalism, and judgmental. As Richard Rohr puts it, “If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it.” (‘A Spring Within Us,’ 119). Impatience is one way we do this; it is wounding of others from an unhealed wound in ourselves.

And that’s why the fruit of the Spirit is an inward work before it is an outward offering. It is received, then given. Patience is no exception. We first “cut ourselves some slack,” and then we are inclined to treat others the same way. But let’s be clear: patience does not ignore or excuse things which need to be changed or improved. But like Jesus, we are patient in hope, saying in effect, “They may not get it now, but eventually they will.”

Exercising patience is demonstrating confidence that God is at work in others just as God is at work in us. With patience we walk with others as companions, not critics—as friends, not fixers. And in the end, people make changes from the depths of their own conviction that God is with them, and with the assurance that we are with them too. Patience is love waiting in hope.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Unpainted Peace in Jesus

Jesus unpainted is peace. Peace is love working for wellness. This may be the way he is best known, given that he is linked to the Prince of Peace in Isaiah 9:6. And once that connection is made, it quickly expands into the larger Jewish emphasis of shalom—a word which describes comprehensive wellbeing. In this sense, Jesus is clearly the incarnation of peace.

We see it in his demeanor. When others around him were in turmoil, he was the peace of stability. When people were grieving, he offered the peace of comfort. We can read passage after passage where Jesus’ peace was present when others lacked it. He held things together that were otherwise falling apart. It is summed up in his stilling of the storm with the words, “Peace! Be still!” (Mark 4:39).

We see it in his counsel, “be at peace with one another” (Mark 9:50). In the context in which he spoke these words, it is clear that this kind of peace is an aim in Christian community, but one that does not come quickly and easily. It is peace which comes only when we are not contending with each other or putting obstacles in their way. Jesus likened this peace to remaining salty, not tasteless in our faith.

But he did more, he dispensed peace, saying “my peace I give you” (John 14:27). In the same way that his love was given to others (John 15:9), so too was his peace. One of the marks of spiritual maturity is that what we have is offered to others. Jesus did this. He lived by the principle he taught “freely you have received, freely give” (Matthew 10:8).

In the midst of our seeing peace in Jesus, we must be sure to see the full spectrum of it. Shalom includes the notion of consolation noted above, but it also contains the idea of challenge. Peace is prophetic in that it calls for people to choose whom they will serve–God or something else. Adopting Jesus’ peace may put us at odds with those who reject it (Matthew 10:34-36).

All aspects of the fruit of the Spirit are essential in discipleship, but peace is one dimension sorely needed in our day. Jesus unpainted reveals it.

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Unpainted Peace in Us

Unpainted peace is in John Dear. He has lived the peace-making life Jesus commended in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:9). In his book, ‘The Beatitudes of Peace,’ Jihn Deer sees all the Beatitudes in the context of peace, leading us into nonviolent living. Such living begins in the heart.

Peacemaking cannot occur in anyone who is not at peace. This is another reminder that the nine words are both inward and outward manifestations. When it comes to peace, it is clear that we cannot give what we do not have. Interior peacefulness precedes exterior peacemaking. This is where the practice of meditation comes into play.

It is like sitting with a snow globe that’s swirling, and letting Jesus say to our troubled hearts, “Peace! Be still!” Inner peacefulness is accepting Christ’s offer of peace. It will be a peace that is beyond understanding—that is, a peace which overcomes the turmoil that is justified by a “they have it coming” mindset. Peace is grace, not quid pro quo.

And then, from the place of inward peacefulness, we move outward to “pursue what makes for peace” (Romans 14:19). In the context of Christian tradition this has meant practicing works of mercy: feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, sheltering the homeless, visiting the sick, visiting prisoners, burying the dead, giving alms to the poor, counseling the doubtful, instructing the ignorant, not judging sinners, comforting the sorrowful, forgiving others any harm they have done to us, bearing persecution patiently, and praying for all people. All fourteen practices are means of loving our neighbors as we love ourselves. The first seven have been called the Corporal acts of mercy; the last seven the Spiritual acts of mercy.

Looking at these things, it is easy to see how practicing them would be a peace-making endeavor. This is unpainted peace in us. Peace is love working for wellness in everyone and everything.

Along the Way: Gambler Spirituality

Along the way, we need to practice gambler spirituality. Kenny Rogers was known for many songs. One was “The Gambler” he recorded in 1978. You likely know the refrain, “You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to run.” These words recently tumbled into my mind as good counsel for living well in these days.

“Know when to hold ‘em”….In Galatians 5:22-23, Paul named a winning hand: the fruit of the Spirit (love joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness (generosity), faithfulness, gentleness, and self control), and in Colossians 3:12-16 he repeated some of these traits and added compassion, humility, tolerance, and forgiveness. These things, he wrote, “must live in you richly.” That is, when you have these cards in your hand, hold ‘em. Play them in response to life as it comes your way.

“Know when to fold ‘em”….In Galatians 5:19-21, Paul identified a losing hand: the works of the flesh (sexual immorality, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissentions, factions, envy, drunkenness, and carousing), and in Colossians 3:5-11 he repeated some of these things and added impurity, passion, evil desire, greed, wrath, malice, slander, abusive language, and lying. If you find yourself with these cards, fold ‘em.

“Know when to walk away”….This is the spirituality that says, “I am not going to play this game anymore; it has taken a turn I cannot support or participate in. Paul summed it up in this exhortation, “Take no part in unfruitful works of darkness; rather expose them” (Ephesians 5:11). It’s what Jesus called shaking the dust off our sandals (Mark 6:10-11), not as an act of superiority or self-righteousness but rather in the prophetic task of calling out evil so there can be repentance and restoration. This is what we call nonviolent resistance of the proactive kind commended by Micah: doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God (Micah 6:8). Gambler spirituality knows when to walk away—when to stop playing the fallen-world’s games (oligarchy, imperialism, nationalism, authoritarianism, fundamentalism)—when to refuse to sell out to the “dirty rotten system” and when to refuse to sell your soul to “the company store.” Walking away is simultaneously an indictment of evil and the intention to pursue goodness.

“Know when to run”….This is what David did sometimes (e.g. 1 Samuel 22:1 and 24:3), what Jesus did in response to those who were intent on destroying him (John 11:53-54). There are times when fleeing is an act of faith, when staying would be foolish. Evil is powerful, and sometimes it has the upper hand. Spiritual maturity says, “get away from it.” This is not a reluctance to be courageous; it’s a desire not to be stupid. As Frederick Buechner put it, “A bleeding heart is of no value if it bleeds to death.” Running is the act which brings us to the place of rest, renewal, and reignition of resolve.

Gambler spirituality is much-needed in our day, needed in each of the ways the song describes. I cannot say which of the ways is the one you should follow because I do not know the hand you’ve been dealt. All I can say is, “know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to run.”

Resources: Spirituality and Practice

Spirituality and Practice is one of the spiritual formation resources I turn to often. Begin by Frederick and Mary Ann Brussat, it is a ministry that offers treasures great and small

The “Explorations” section with its catalog of teachers is my favorite go-to location on the website, but there is so much more. Give it a look ..

http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Unpainted Joy in Jesus

Jesus is unpainted joy. Joy is love celebrating. The Divine Dance of the Trinity that we have looked at previously, is a dance of joy. Before the excarnate Christ became incarnate in Jesus, the note of joy was already there. In his earthly life, Jesus manifested a joyful life.

In 1973, Willis Wheatly sketched what is now called “Laughing Jesus.” It captures a moment of pure joy on his face. While there is no verse in the gospels where Jesus laughed, there is plenty of material to say that he did. His demeanor was one of friendship and comradery. He was invited to weddings, and other gatherings where laughter was part of the occasion. And it is impossible to imagine his entourage not laughing a lot over the course of three years.

Beyond that, he compared the kingdom of God to a banquet, no doubt one that included laughter (Matthew 22:1-14). On the night he was betrayed, he told his disciples to be joyful, saying that he wanted his joy to be in them, and their joy to be full (John 15:11). After his resurrection, he used the word ‘rejoice’ on several occasions.

But there’s more. Jesus took joy beyond festive occasions and happy times. He is said to have experienced joy in relation to the cross (Hebrews 12:22). In doing so, he showed that joy is not only the expression of an emotion, it is also the fulfillment of a mission.

There are times when joy erupts spontaneously. Happy times. But there are times when joy is more like the infrastructure of a building, hidden but holding us up. No matter how it occurs, it is a quality of life that characterized Jesus unpainted, and it is an aspect life given to us by the indwelling Christ.

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Unpainted Joy in Us

Unpainted joy was in St. Francis of Assisi. He told his followers, “The safest remedy against the thousand snares and wiles of the enemy is spiritual joy.” (John Michael Talbot, ‘The Lessons of St. Francis,’ 37). For him, joy was an exuberant emotion that manifested itself in all sorts of ways. But it was also a joy which came from the deep roots of abandoning himself to God. With this devotion he not only laughed and danced, he also absorbed insults, humiliations, and hardships. He was joyous with Jesus’ joy.

Francis (and Clare too) is the reminder that Jesus wants his joy to be ours, and through the Spirit we can be filled with it. Like Paul’s use of the word ‘fruit,’ Jesus’ reference to his joy being in us is the reminder that joy is a gift. We do not conjure up joy, we co-exist with Christ in it. This is important. The simple fact is that there are times we could not manufacture joy. There’s no basis for it sometimes—no basis except for one thing: God is with us. The Spirit indwells us—everywhere, all the time.

Joy as Jesus incarnated it, and as Paul envisioned rests on the conviction that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ (Romans 8:38-39). Joy is present in the pleasant experiences of our lives. But even when there is nothing to be happy about, joy is a companion enabling us to say, “It is well with my soul.”

Imprisoned Christians singing hymns in the Philippian jail comes quickly to mind (Acts 16:24-25). And from that time until now, the note of joy has characterized the Christian life, showing up especially during difficult times. In this context, the words of Rendel Harris ring true, “Joy is the strength of the people of God; it is their glory; it is their characteristic mark.” (In ‘Growing Spiritually’ by E. Stanley Jones, Week 20, Saturday). Joy is love celebrating.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Love: The Root of All the Rest.

When we read Galatians 5:22-23, we encounter an unusual grammatical construction. Paul writes, “The fruit of the Spirit is…”—a singular verb, and then he describes that fruit in nine words. Why didn’t he write, “The fruits of the Spirit are…?”

The most likely answer is that he saw one fruit, with eight additional descriptions—one reality with eight additional manifestations. Today we refer to this as an example of unity in diversity. John Wesley looked at Paul’s words and concluded that love is the singular fruit, “the root of all the rest.” (‘Explanatory Notes on the New Testament,’Gal 5:22). In taking this view, he was drawing on the words of Jesus, that to abide in him is to abide in love (John 15:10), and that as we abide in him, we bear much fruit (John 15:8, 16).

The fruit is love. In fact, Jesus said that all the law (613 regulations in his day) and the entire message of the prophets are summed up in the word love, as it manifests itself in relation to God, others, and ourselves. Unfortunately, love has been painted over by a never-ending legalism and dogmatism in which rules and regulations suppress the Lover-Beloved relationship we are meant to have with God. We are in dire need of the recovery love in society and in the Church.

Thomas Oord has become so gripped by the singularity and supremacy of love that he has coined a new word for it: amipotence. (‘The Death of Omnipitence and Birth of Amipotence’). For him, it is the word which describes God better than the one we often use: omnipotence. Amipotence tells us what kind of “potency” is universal—the power of love. Love is God’s nature, present and active in everyone and everything, working in Christ to bring all things in heaven and on earth together in the new creation (Ephesians 1:9-10).

While this book is not technically about a theology of love, it is inseparably connected with that theology. And the connection is in the fruit of the Spirit—the fruit of love—the root of all the rest.

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Unpainted Love in Jesus

Jesus is unpainted love. As the Word made flesh, the nature of God which is love (1 John 4:8, 16) became incarnate in him. God confirmed it when Jesus was baptized, saying of him, “This is my Son whom I dearly love; I find happiness in him” (Matthew 3:17)

As God’s beloved, through whom everyone and everything is made (John 1:3), he lived and led by love. The story of Jesus’ conversation with the rich young ruler is a good example. Mark notes that Jesus “looked at him carefully and loved him” (Mark 10:21). That’s how he saw and responded to everyone. It is not an exaggeration to say that everything he said and did was an expression of love. The word compassion sums it up.

On the night of his betrayal, he gathered with his disciples, showing his love for them as he washed their feet (John 13: 1-15). And then he put it into words which set all he had said and done into perspective, “As the Father has loved me, I too have loved you. Remain in my love” (John 15:9). It’s the flow of love: from the Father, to the Son, through the Spirit, into us.
But more, Jesus demonstrated his love for us by atoning for our sins on the cross, becoming sin for us (2 Corinthians 5:21). He had earlier said, “No one has greater love than to give up one’s life for one’s friends (John 15:13). And then, the next day, he did it.

So much more could be said, but here is evidence enough to confirm that love is the fruit of the Spirit—the root of all the rest. Universal love. Unconditional love. Unending love. Jesus unpainted is love.

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Unpainted Love in Us

Unpainted love was in Martin Luther King Jr. As the fruit of the Spirit, it is the presence of the indwelling Christ giving us what he called “strength to love.” This was King’s way of saying that apart from Christ, we can do nothing (John 15:5), what John later said, “We love because God first loved us (1 John 4:19). Indeed, this was the strength of the civil rights movement—of every movement inspired by God.

The primary instruction Jesus gave to those who followed him was this, “Remain in me” (John 15:4) like a branch does in a vine. He called it remaining in his love (John 15:9), from which we bear much fruit (John 15:8, 16).

Love is the root of all the rest in us, just as it was in Jesus. Inwardly, it forms the character of Christ in us; outwardly it expresses the conduct of Christ through us. This is what John Wesley called holiness of heart and life. He declared it to be the aim of every Christian—the ongoing pursuit of “perfect love.” Unpainted love, as seen in Jesus.

With respect to the fruit of the Spirit, God gives us the will and the means to love—to fulfill the two great commandments of loving God and loving others. The love of God, shed abroad in our hearts (Romans 5:5) becomes the fire of love that gives light and life to the world.

“Love each other” became the marching orders for the Christian community (1 John 3:11, 3:23, 4:7, 4:11-12). Loving “the brothers and sisters” is another way John put it (1 John 3:14, 4:21), not meant to include only fellow Christians, but also all our siblings in the human family. It is universal love coming into us and moving through us by Jesus unpainted.

In the Christian tradition, this is referred to as a union of love between our spirit and the Holy Spirit. Richard Rohr rightly notes, “Once we have one sincere moment of divine union, we will want to spend all our time on the one thing necessary, which is to grow deeper and deeper in love every chance that we get.”

“Little Lights”

I’m grateful to those of you who have told me that you are enjoying “Little Lights.” I have written these brief thoughts related to my devotional times for a long time (and continue writing them), and it is a joy to share them with you. If you would be willing to tell your friends about “Little Lights,” I’d appreciate it. And if you like, you can share this link via your social media.  Thanks!

https://www.facebook.com/little.lights.2024?mibextid=ZbWKwL

Resources: The Upper Room

This ministry began in 1935 as a daily devotional guide, and it continues to this day with millions of people reading it in 34 languages. But the ministry of The Upper Room is much more. It has cone to include a variety of ministries and resources, some immediately available on the website, along with others easily accessible.

Like other longstanding ministries, The Upper Room is led by a new and diverse generation. Give it a look. You’ll be glad you did.

http://www.upperroom.org

Book: Jesus Unpainted

The Manner of Life

The manner of Christlike life is the focus of this book. Paul Described it as “the fruit of the Spirit.” Before looking at each dimension of this life, we can use Paul’s phrase to see two important things about the life in Jesus unpainted, and in us.

First, it is “of the Spirit.” The Spirit descended upon Jesus at his baptism (Matthew 3:16). And when he commenced his public ministry, he based it in the Spirit’s anointing (Luke 4:18). Dance is continued in the Spirit. God is the Source. We inherit the life; we do not create it. It is a gift, not of works, lest we pridefully make the whole thing look like we did it (Ephesians 2:9). The indwelling Christ gives us the grace to incarnate the virtues.

When we were children, we played “follow the leader.” Jesus said we must become like children if we are to enter the kingdom of God (Matthew 18:13). “Follow the leader” is the Dance. Jesus said that he did this (e.g. John 5:19-20). We are to do it. As St. Francis put it, we are instruments of God. Bernard of Clairvaux used the metaphor of a reservoir to describe the same thing.

Second, it is “fruit.” The consequence of the Dance. Fruit has simultaneous inward and outward dimensions. Inwardly, it has flavor. Outwardly, it is meant to be eaten by others. And it has seeds on the inside to perpetuate its life on the outside—life beyond itself.

Paul wrote about this life saying, “We don’t live for ourselves and we don’t die for ourselves. If we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord. Therefore, whether we live or die, we belong to God (Romans 14:7-8). The fruit is inward character combined with outward conduct, producing a life that glorifies God in attitude and action. We are made to live fruitfully, and we are fulfilled as we do.

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Life for All

When Christians chose the paradigm of fruitfulness spelled out in Galatians 5:22-23 as their definition of Christlikeness, they were not separating themselves from others or elevating themselves above others. They were, in fact, bearing witness to the Universal Christ “who is all and in all” (Colossians 3:11).

The first Christians were connecting with the notion that God is the One pervading all that is. They were aligning with their Jewish heritage (Deuteronomy 6:4), and with classic philosophy. They were declaring their belief that the life God intends for everyone to live was, in fact, lived on the earth by Jesus. They believed that living like him was what they were supposed to do. They believed that the Holy Spirit had been poured out on all people on the Day of Pentecost, indwelling everyone so that bearing the fruit of the Spirit is the natural result of abiding in Christ (John 15:4-5).

The universal Christ is Jesus unpainted. As the Alpha and Omega (Revelation 1:8), he is the one in whom we live, move and have our being (Acts 17:28). It is this idea of life in Christ which turns the idea of virtue into reality. This is the reality Paul captured in the fruit of the Spirit, a reality he hoped would characterize the Galatians…and us.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Section Two: Revelation

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Revelation of Life

When at last Jeannie finished scrubbing away all the layers which had hidden the wood, it was a revelation of life. The wood was not meant to be covered over; God had created it with intrinsic beauty. The natural wood was meant to be seen. It was as if the wood came to life, and seeing it revitalized us as well.

When we see Jesus unpainted, we see life. Once we see Jesus in his good-wood brilliance, we will never again settle for lesser revelations of him. Henry Scougal called it the life of God in the human soul. We are alive with his life (Ephesians 2:5).

But what kind of life is it? In this section of the book, we will use Galatians 5:22-23 as the means for responding to this question. It is the way Paul described abundant living. In short order, these verses came to summarize Christlikeness.

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Manifestations of Life

The search for Jesus unpainted began early in Christianity began before the end of the New Testament. This is not surprising. After his resurrection, the “followers of the Way” had to decide what living “in Jesus’ name” meant. In Antioch they were first called Christians (Acts 11:26)—people who “Christ ones.” But what did that look like? How would they know they were living like Christ, living abundantly?

As Christians moved out farther and farther into the world, they recognized the need for some paradigm that would bind them into one Church with many and various members (1 Corinthians 12:12-27). They sought that unity-in-diversity paradigm in three ways: with respect to their message, to their manner of life, and to their ministries. The focus of this book is their manner of life, but it is never a life separated from the message or the ministries.

With respect to the message, it came to be described as the kerygma—the core proclamation and teaching of the Gospel. Essentially, it is the story of Jesus as the means of salvation for the world. The main features of this story were original righteousness, universal sinfulness, redemption in Christ, and the transformation of everyone and everything into the new creation.

With respect to the manner of life which ensues in following Jesus, it came to be described as the virtuous life—essentially the nine words Paul referred to in Galatians 5:22-23 as the fruit of the Spirit. Bringing this into the Jesus unpainted metaphor, it means that when we recover good-wood Jesus, the life we see in him is characterized by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness (generosity, in the NRSVue), faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. This book focuses on these qualities.

With respect to ministries, the Acts 2:42-47 describes major ones: didache (teaching), koinonia (fellowship), diakonia (service)—all rooted in and arising from individual and communal worship. They carried out these ministries largely through lay people (who bore the fruit named above) and through elders, deacons, and deaconesses who served as apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers (Ephesians 4:11). Through these things, Jesus unpainted enriched believers and influenced the world.

Resources: First Looks

It’s natural for our interests to exceed our time to explore them with equal depth. And even if we move in time to concentrate on something particular, it’s important to have a good first look at it.

This resource highlights ways to have a good introduction to a wide variety of people and ideas.

With regard to people, I note the ‘Essential Writings’ series published by Orbis books.

With regard to an amazing breadth of ideas, the ‘Very Short Introduction’ series published by Oxford University Press is unmatched.

Augsburg Press has published the ’40 day Journey’ series, setting an introductory look at a spiritual guide’s writings in a contemplative format.

Shambhala Publications provides a look at many people in its ‘Shambhala Pocket Classics’ series

Another good way to be introduced to someone or something is through a book of daily readings. There are too many of these to name.

Here are some other “first looks” that come mind as I write this….

E  Stanley Jones…..’Thirty Days with E. Stanley Jones’ by John Harnish.

The Wesleys….’John & Charles Wesley: Selections from Their Writings and Hymns’ by Paul Chilcote.

Eugene Peterson….’Living the Message’ compiled from Peterson’s writings (available from HarperOne on May 15, 2024).

Frederick Buechner….’Listenong to Your Life’ compiled by George Connor.

Madeleine L’Engle….’Glimpses of Grace’ compiled by Carole Chase.

I highly recommend each of these sources as good beginning places. A look at each one reveals the people and ideas you can access easily and profitably.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Created for This

Jesus unpainted reveals the life we are meant to live. In our attraction to Jesus, we find an incarnation of our true self. E. Stanley Jones said that when we see the abundant life which Jesus lived, we will be drawn to it naturally. We will recognize “we are created by the Creator to live in this Way” (‘The Divine Yes’) We see our face in his face.

We are living in a time when institutional Christianity is declining as a growing number of “nones and dones” want nothing to do with it. But when we pay attention to these people, we find they are still very much attracted to Christ. They struggle with the church, but not Christ. In this sense, they are prophets telling us to “have done with lesser things” and rekindle the flame of our first love (Revelation 2:4-5).

Why do people remain interested in and committed to Christ—to Jesus unpainted? It’s because the one who is the image of God (Colossians 1:15) extends the offer of abundant living to us who are made in the image of God. People remain interested in Jesus because of a God-designed affinity between his Spirit and our spirit—a Heart-to-heart relationship—a divine Dance.

The affinity is a natural one, described by the psalmist as the way a deer longs for water (Psalm 42:1). In scientific terms, we are drawn to God as naturally as iron filings move toward a magnet. In poetic language it is the admonition to “follow your heart, it knows the way.”

We must not rush past this because it is the way out of the weeds and get back on the path. Jesus unpainted says, “Follow me” (Mark 1:17), not “join the church” or “be a member of that group.” Fortunately, we do not have to be anti-institutional to follow Jesus, but we must refuse to sell our soul to any institution or group. The reason is plain, and stated by Jesus himself, “The kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21). Jesus unpainted, the indwelling Christ, is the Source; everyone and everything else is secondary. For him you are made!

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Cooperation

Jesus unpainted does not force himself on us. He knocks on the door of our heart, hoping we will invite him to come into our lives. The recovery of good-wood Jesus is a process in which we are active–inquiring, exploring, and experiencing what Jesus offers (Matthew 7:7-8). It is the scrubbing action we are naming in the first part of this book. It is our response to grace, our cooperation with God.

Jesus himself showed us how we cooperate with him. In the commencement of his ministry (Matthew 4:17-25), he invited people into a threefold process: repentance, following, and learning. Each one frames a question to which we respond. Doing so brings us to the place where we catch our first glimpse of Jesus unpainted.

Jesus’ first question: “Are you willing to look at life in a new way?” That’s the essence of repentance. It’s having an enlarged mind (metanoia). Repentance is our acceptance of God’s invitation to live in a bigger world—the world Jesus called the kingdom of God. In the context of this book, it is no longer settling for lime-green Jesus, but beginning the process of seeing him more fully. It is a looking that becomes living, what Paul called having the mind of Christ (Philippians 2:5).

Jesus’ second question: “Do you believe I can show you this new way?” That’s the essence of following him. We follow those whom we believe can take us where we need to go. Our cooperation is rooted in confidence. It is what Peter meant when he said , “You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). We naturally pay attention to Jesus when we trust him.

Jesus’ third question: “Will you let me teach you what this new way is?” Our cooperation here is the process of learning, and being a learner is the essence of being a disciple. As the four gospels reveal, it was an on-the-road learning of followers that included watching Jesus live the new way, hearing him describe it, and beginning to practice it themselves.

It is no accident that the Sermon the Mount came next in Matthew’s gospel. Those who were willing to look at life in a new way, to believe that Jesus could show them that way, and to let him instruct them in the way were cooperating in a process which revealed Jesus unpainted.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Jesus Puts a Face on God

As the refinishing process advanced, the discovery of more and more good wood put a new face on the furniture. The lime-green color was less and less prominent. The revelation of Jesus unpainted similarly gives God a new look. E. Stanley Jones said it simply, “Jesus puts a face on God” (‘The Word Became Flesh,’ Week 2, Saturday).

Jesus unpainted moves us from God as a principle to God as a person. This is not to be equated with human personhood, for God is more than we are. But it is the revelation that God is Being, not just a force. building on what Jesus said himself, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9). Jesus unpainted reveals the Abba reality.

Brennan Manning was Paul to many people, a liberating factor in their lives. I was fortunate to attend one of his retreats, the substance of which became his book, The Wisdom of Tenderness. Brennan believed that when websee the real Jesus, we experience mercy. He was concerned that this was too-often lost in contemporary Christianity. The opening sentence of his book left no doubt about it,

“In the past year, I've grown increasingly uneasy with the state of contemporary spirituality in the Western world. It has, to put the matter bluntly, the flat flavor of old ice cream and the insipid taste of tame sausage.” (p. 1)

Brennan’s food metaphors align with my lime-green one, revealing that two millennia after Paul, the face of Jesus is still obscured. Brennan spent decades of his life trying to help us know we are Abba’s child, writing a whole book on that theme.

Frederick Buechner is another person who has ministered the same idea, writing beautifully that the face of Jesus tells his life story—an announced face, a nativity face, a ministry face, a last supper face, a crucifixion face, and a resurrected face (‘The Faces of Jesus’). Taken together, the faces are a masterpiece.

The face of Jesus is another way to describe the Dance and the Dancer. You have never seen the face of a dour dancer. John wrote that the Word was “with God,” a translation of the Greek which means “facing God”—looking intently into the face of God in the divine dance, then dwelling among us full of grace and truth” (John 1:16). We have seen the glory (brightness, wonder) of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 4:6).

But there’s more. Having beheld Jesus’ face, our faces reveal God’s glory too (2 Corinthians 3:18). Jesus is the Human One, in whom we see the life God intends for us to live. That’s essentially what Christlikeness means. Looking like Jesus. We often see couples resembling each other after living together for a long time. That’s what happens when we see Jesus unpainted. We live unpainted lives too.

Along the Way: Getting Through the Year

Along the way, I see the coming year as one presenting us with formidable challenges  A plethora of articles are rightly noting this as we move through 2024. Time magazine (1/22/24) used the word “Risk” to describe the state of things, illustrating the reality in ten different ways. It is easy to see our time in the ancient words of David, “a valley dark as death” (Psalm 23:4).

In the verse, David uses the word ‘through’ to set our time in the darkness in context. It is a time we will get ‘through.’ But his sense includes the questions, “How will we get through? How can we prevent getting stuck in the darkness?” It’s the philosophical question, “How then shall we live?” asked specifically about 2024. I am asking the question these days.

Insight comes from more than one vantage point. In this post I want to think about getting through this year (indeed, any dark time) from the vantage point of spiritual formation, which itself draws from interdisciplinary insights. The following things (stated as verbs, as actions) are helping me navigate my way ‘through’ this time of risk.

First, remember. It’s a word used 307 times (more if you count other forms of the word) to describe an action that describes acts of fundamental recollection—the kind that restores lost perspectives. I am thinking of two key remembrances: that God is with us (Immanuel) and that we have faced, and lived through similar times in the past. With God’s ever-present help (Psalm 46:1), we will do again.

Second, resolve. I mean committing ourselves to living by our core values. Not just verbalizing them, but enacting them. Resolve generates endurance which includes the needed resilience to simultaneously advance the common good and resist the evils which seek to undermine it. In classical spiritual-formation language, this is living by intention. And this is in relation to the virtues described by Paul in Galatians 5:22-23.

Third, reframe. Here I am thinking about making and keeping a Rule of Life. This discipline helps us not to fall prey to the anxiety created by overload. We reframe our resolutions in terms of selected actions we will take in the immediate future. A Rule of Life also helps set the work/rest pace which is essential for long-haul living. Dallas Willard gave us a great gift by putting the disciplines into this pattern (engagement/abstinence) in his book, ‘The Spirit of the Disciplines.’

Fourth, reflect. I mean by this “think for yourself.” In a time of deception, this is essential. Otherwise, we let the talk-show media pundits and demagogic types brainwash us. Critical thinking alone saves us from mental passivity that succumbs to “group think.” Reflect means doing our homework by using credible resources. In the new Oboedire, the Resources posts are my way of encouraging and helping you to do this.

Fifth, recreate. Simply put, have fun. Do things that give you joy. It is no accident that joy is early in the list of the fruit of the Spirit, for without it the other qualities are diminished or lost. We see the note of joy in the saints, who developed a pray/play life. And when we look at those involved in nonviolent resistance, we find that they are recreational. They enjoy life.

Sixth, relate. Life together characterizes people who make it through hard times. Often in the Bible, the word ‘you’ is plural, implying that the thing being described is accomplished in community. Friendships are formative in challenging times. Privatized spirituality will fail to provide what we need to endure.

I do believe we will make it through. Sadly, that way leaves a trail of tears with casualties that are the product of evil. But evil does not have the final word, God does. And I am counting on the six things above to keep me moving through darkness and toward light. Let’s go!

Resources: The Candler Foundry

Inspired by the Emmaus story in Luke 24, The Candler Foundry (at Emory University) aims to make rigorous and relevant theological education accessible to everyone where they live and work.

Their description includes this invitation, “Join us to grow spiritually and develop practices that enable you to better serve the church, advocate for justice, have meaningful conversations, ask difficult questions, and engage issues that matter to the world.”

The website is the place to go to learn more and to see all that is offered. You can subscribe to the Foundry email newsletter to receive updates…

http://www.candlerfoundry.emory.edu

Book: Jesus Unpainted

The Letter

Thanks to Paul, there is a letter in the New Testament that’s organized to reveal Jesus unpainted. It is his letter to the Galatians. Paul sent it to Christians whose image of Jesus had been painted over by those who were strangers to grace. The Galatians were being lured away from the richness of abundant living to the veneer of legalism.—being tempted to go into reverse, from relationship back to regulation, and from love back to law. In his strongest rejection of that reversal, he used awe and liberation to exhort then Galatians to stay the course.

With respect to awe, Paul expended the bulk of his letter to inspire it. He did it in the spirit of Oswald Chambers who said we are to give our utmost for God’s highest—that highest being Christ. Life is by Christ, to Christ, with Christ, like Christ, in Christ, and for Christ. The Word made flesh is where we look, Paul says, not words about the Word. That included keeping the Law in its intended place: secondary and subordinate to Christ.

Needless to say, Paul incurred the ire of those for whom regulatory religion was their paradigm and their means of being in power. Like Jesus, Paul did not destroy the Law, but rather fulfilled it. By making it a “schoolmaster” bringing us to Christ (Galatians 3:24-27), he dethroned the imperialists for whom “law and order” is everything. This is awesome because it says that the system is not the solution, the savior is.

And that takes us to liberation. At Galatians 5:1, Paul heads for the finish line in his letter writing that “Christ has set us free for freedom.” Christ is the means (“has set us free”) and the manner (“for freedom”) of abundant life. He is the Life (John 14:6).

Still today, the centrality of Christ is a threat to those who put anything else above their sacred cow. Jesus unpainted is not only a paradigm, he is the power of God unto salvation (Romans 1:16).

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[I have written another book that explores Galatians, ‘Life in Christ, The Core of Intentional Spirituality (Abingdon Press, 2020)]

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Awe and Liberation

As the refinishing process advanced, Jeannie’s sense of awe increased. Enlarged revelations of the original wood showed its texture, grain, and pattern. It also amplified the question, “Why would anyone paint over this?” And that question fueled the liberation of the wood from its lime-green prison. Similarly, our experience of Jesus unpainted is one of awe and liberation.

As Lord of the Dance, Jesus is rooted in what we refer to today as Creation spirituality (Matthew Fox, ‘Creation Spirituality). We begin “in the beginning” with the cosmic, universal Christ. Summed up, it is our primal experience with God in Christ which evokes awe and effects liberation.

Jesus unpainted is awesome. Awe is whereit all begins. It’s what biblical writers called, “the fear of the Lord,” a phrase which has ended up miscommunicating their intent. Fear is today thought of as the response we make to someone who is angry and abusive, not loving. A whole skewed theology (e.g. “sinners in the hand of an angry God”) has been developed around the phrase, making God a tyrant, not a dance partner.

Awe is what they meant, and it is this attitude of deep reverence which characterizes our response to and relationship with God. Keeping the same metaphor going, it is us telling Jesus, “You are a really good Dancer,” and hearing him say in return, “You’re not so bad yourself.” This is what the Bible means when it says God delights in us (Psalm 18:19). For many, this is a new understanding of themselves; it is the one Jesus unpainted provides. We are God’s beloved dance partners. This is a transforming vision.

Fortunately, I saw it as a new Christian, due in large part to Robert Boyd Munger, who wrote the now-classical booklet, My Heart– Christ’s Home. All of it is moving with respect to the sense of awe the risen Christ generates in us. These words, focusing on our daily time alone with God, reveal God’s joy at being in relationship with us,

“Remember, I love you…Don’t neglect this hour
if only for my sake. Whether or not you want to
to be with me, remember I want to be with you.
I really love you!”

This awe is also our liberation. God is not on parade in Christ, God is on patrol in him, at work to “seek and save the lost” (Luke 19:10). The dance is delivering; the relationship is redemptive (Psalm 149:4). Jesus unpainted is the liberator, and the effect of his atonement is freedom (Galatians 5:1)—which he called abundant life, the life he said that he came to give us (John 10:10). In Christ, the old passes away so that the new can come; in him everyone and everything is a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17).

We never get over this. We are not meant to. It is awe and liberation beyond what we can ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20). Jesus unpainted tells us so.

The “New” Oboedire

I am settling in to the new vision and pace for Oboedire, which currently means fewer themed posts, continuing the weekly installments of ‘Jesus Unpainted’ on Fridays and Saturdays, and having occasional posts pointing to other people and ministries running the race set before them.

On Facebook, I want you to know about the “Little Lights,” page I have started today to share lectio-divina experiences that I have had over the years. The brief thoughts have guided my journey, and I hope readers will find them helpful. Give the new page a look as you like….

https://www.facebook.com/little.lights.2024?mibextid=ZbWKwL

All this is in the less-is-more, pace of grace, which feels really good at my age and stage.

Thanks for being on the journey with me.

New Voices: Anthea Butler

Dr. Anthea Butler is the Geraldine R. Segal Professor in American Social Thought and chair of the Department of Religious Studies at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. She is a historian of African-American and American religion and is an expert on the threat of Christian Nationalism. Butler is also a commentator for MSNBC and, in a recent column, warned about politicians who claim to be running with God’s sanction. Butler’s most recent book is ‘White Evangelical Racism: The Politics of Morality in America.’

She will already be known by some of you, but she is a “new voice” for me.

Learn more about her on her website: http://www.antheabutler.com

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Lord of the Dance

Jeannie’s refinishing project was begun, continued, and ended in relation to one conviction: good wood exists and is worth finding. Her work was inspired by a vision. Similarly, our faith journey is begun and sustained in a vision summed up in three words: Jesus is Lord.

Jesus unpainted is Lord. “Jesus is Lord” is thought to be the earliest Christian creed (Philippians 2:11). The first Christians affirmed him as the incarnation of God (Yahweh). Their intent was not to one-up the Jews, but rather to show that he was within the Great Story already being told. They did this initially by referring to Jesus as the Way and themselves as followers of the Way. His original followers saw him as the fulfillment of something already begun. It is only later that Christians began to interpret Jesus and the Christian faith in supremacy language.

In the original sense of Jesus’ lordship, we can bring the first meditation into this one and say that he is the Lord of the Dance. Sydney Carter wrote a hymn with this title in 1963, a contemporary song reflecting the sentiment of an earlier English carol, “Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day.” Jesus unpainted is Lord of the Dance. Meditating on the words of Carter’s hymn is timely,

“I danced in the morning when the world was begun,
And I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun,
And I came down from heaven and I danced on the earth:
At Bethlehem I had my birth.

Dance, then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be,
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.

I danced for the scribe and the Pharisee,
But they would not dance and they wouldn’t follow me;
I danced for the fishermen, for James and John;
They came with me and the dance went on:

Dance, then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be,
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.

I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame:
The holy people said it was a shame.
They whipped and they stripped and they hung me on high,
And they left me there on a cross to die:

Dance, then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be,
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.

I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black;
It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.
They buried my body and they thought I’d gone;
But I am the dance, and I still go on:

Dance, then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be,
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.

They cut me down and I leapt up high;
I am the life that’ll never, never die.
I’ll live in you if you’ll live in me:
I am the Lord of the dance, said he.

Dance, then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be,
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.”

In our first glimpse of Jesus, we see him dancing. And he beckons us to dance with him. In this sense, his invitation “follow me” is a dance metaphor. As the Lord of the Dance, he brings us onto the cosmic dance floor, where we follow him all our days. Jesus unpainted is dancing; hang out with those who are dancing with him. Get as close to a party as you can.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Part One: Recovery

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The Dance

When Jeannie saw the first patch of original wood, it was cause for rejoicing. “Celebration time, come on!” Many questions remained and much work was yet to be done. But even a small patch was enough to energize her project. As C.S. Lewis once said, if we only saw a single dollar bill in our lifetime, we would know there is more real money somewhere.

And so it is with Jesus. Our first glimpse of Jesus unpainted is attractive and joyful. It draws us in to a larger vision. This glimpse occurs prior to the creation of the heavens and the earth. Jesus unpainted is larger than his humanity. He is the eternal Word, the excarnate Christ (John 8:58). Then, as the Word made flesh (John 1:14), he was the incarnate Christ—a human being in whom the eternal excarnate Christ lived (E. Stanley Jones, ‘The Way,’ Week 50, Sunday. Also ‘Mastery,’ Week 25, Wednesday).

There are no words to describe this reality. It is Mystery. But it is also revelation. For Christians, it begins in our theology of the Trinity. Jesus unpainted begins as the Cosmic, Universal Christ. Christians, we first see Jesus unpainted through the lens of our doctrine of God as Holy Trinity (Matthew Fox, ‘The Coming of the Cosmic Christ’ and Richard Rohr, ‘The Universal Christ).

There are no words to describe this reality. It is Mystery. But it is also revelation. For Christians, it begins in our theology of the Trinity. Jesus unpainted begins as the Cosmic, Universal Christ. Christians, we first see Jesus unpainted through the lens of our doctrine of God as Holy Trinity (Matthew Fox, ‘The Coming of the Cosmic Christ’ and Richard Rohr, ‘The Universal Christ).

Unfortunately, the mystery and complexity of the Trinity has caused many to steer clear of the doctrine. This leaves the original picture of Jesus painted over. A plethora of passages in the Bible are silenced. Ironically, and to our detriment, we are less Christian than Jesus’ first followers were—than Jesus himself was. Thankfully, this is changing. The Trinity is being returned to its intended place (Richard Rohr, ‘The Divine Dance’). That place is the dance floor. Our first glimpse of Jesus unpainted is that of the Dancer. From that, we learn many things—three of which I name in this meditation.

First, the essence of love. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are in a love dance. God is love, in every dimension. When we find Jesus unpainted, we find love. This one idea will be repeated over and over in this book because it is the Message. Love expressed and multiplied is the Gospel (Paul W. Chilcote, ‘Multiplying Love’). Jesus unpainted is the Gospel (Henri Nouwen, Jesus: A Gospel’).

Second, the experience of relationship. The Holy Trinity is in a perpetual relationship—one God in three persons is the struggle we have in the English language to describe the relationship. The Dance metaphor (perichoresis in Greek) sends the same signal.

The Bible does not wait long to reveal this. In the first creation story, Elohim (God magnificent) makes human beings in the divine image. Likeness to God is the foundation for communion with God. And then, the second creation story, Yahweh (God in relationship) walks and talks with Adam and Eve in the garden. It is a relationship marked by God’s mercy, grace, faiithfulness, forgiveness, and steadfast love (Walter Brueggemann, ‘Theology of the Old Testament,’ 215 ff.).

Third, the expression of movement. The Trinity is in motion. We see this in the two creation stories, but after that over and over again in Scripture. God speaks, shows, and acts. In the gospels, Jesus unpainted is on the move. This means we can never nail him down in our belief systems or contain him in our churches. It also means that the Dance keeps our faith in never-ending motion, so that we can never say that we have arrived or that we have all we need.

Free Book, Anyone? Reprise

I am encouraged by the response to the offer of a free book (in installments) on Oboedire and to the feedback I have received about the first one being ‘Jesus Unpainted.’ It looks like over 600 of you are reading it.

The responses I’ve received include a desire to have more than one installment per week.

Okay….beginning tomorrow, I will post installments on Friday and Saturday. Some posts will include more than one chapter. I hope you enjoy this increase.

And remember, the installments are archived on the Oboedire home page in the Categories section (Book: Jesus Unpainted). In due course, the entire book will be there, so you can re-read it should you ever wish to do so.

I intend to continue offering free books on Oboedire if the data (and feedback emails) confirm that you like this feature. So far, so good.

Resources: Disciple-Making

Jesus commissioned us to make disciples. “See All The People” is one of the best movements I know of for doing this. It orients congregations to disciple-making with a host of free resources. I hope you will give it a look….

http://www.seeallthepeople.org

P.S. While this movement began in The United Methodist Church, it is adaptable to any faith community.

Book: Jesus Unpainted

Opening material and introduction, “Lime Green Jesus.”

Jesus Unpainted
Seeing and Becoming Like Him

Steve Harper

Copyright 2024
Steve Harper
All Rights Reserved

Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the Common English Bible, colyright 2011. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

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Dedication

In memory of Nadine Richmond, who found and followed Jesus Unpainted

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Contents

A Word About References Introduction: Lime-Green Jesus Part One: Recovery
Part Two: Revelation
Part Three: Restoration
Conclusion: Jesus Unpainted
Remembering Nadine Richmond
For Further Reading

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A Word About References

Word documents are not “footnote friendly” when it comes to copying and pasting text. For that reason, I am resorting to in-text referencing. It is not my favorite format, but it will have to suffice. I want you to have the sources which have given rise to what I am writing.
For simplicity, I include only the author, title, and page number—not the publisher or date information.

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Introduction: Lime-Green Jesus

During the time Jeannie was restoringbedroom furniture in our parsonage, we wondered who thought lime-green was the color it should be. Was it the person’s favorite? Was it because it was a popular color at that time? Or was there some other reason? We would never know. But we did know, or at least hope, that underneath the lime-green there was good wood. Our curiosity was heightened when she discovered that lime-green was only one of several layers, each a different color. The original wood had been covered over more than once.

And so it is with Jesus. Since he walked the earth, Jesus has been painted over with layers of colors. The personal, cultural, and ecclesial makeovers of him are many and various. Acknowledging this is nothing new. The quest to recover Jesus unpainted began in early Christianity as the desert mothers and fathers fled to the desert to clean the lens of their vision of Christ which they believed was already compromised. Their sayings reveal their struggles and discoveries (Benedicta Ward, ‘The Desert Fathers’)

When Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire in 313 CE, a “Jesus and flag,” Christ-and-culture combo began that has taken many forms over the centuries and persists to this day (Erin Vearncombe, ‘Jesus Before and After Christianity’). The story is complex and beyond the scope of this book. But the point is clear: a lime-green Jesus has obscured Jesus unpainted, leaving us with the veneer rather than the good-wood Jesus underneath the layers.

But fewer and fewer people are willing to settle for lime-green Jesus. They are forming new communities where Jesus unpainted can be found (Rachel Martin, “The search for a church that isn’t a church,” NPR. “All Things Considered,” September 10, 2023) The recovery process is challenging, time consuming, and soul wearying. It turns out to be a more difficult task than we first thought, and it includes having to scrub away some of our favorite colors enroute to the original wood. And even when we rub through to a spot where a bit of the good wood appears, there is still a lot more work to be done.

But here’s the thing: our initial glimpses of Jesus unpainted energize us to continue the recovery process. We realize there’s more to be seen. We recognize that the recovery of Jesus unpainted leads to restoration of his centrality and attractiveness. It is a revelation of the life we are intended to live. When good-wood Jesus is seen, he revitalizes the beholders. So…we keep scrubbing.

Free Book, Anyone?

In my new envisioning of Oboedire, the idea of offering free books has come to my mind. If this interests you, read on.

Some of you will remember when The Saturday Evening Post ran book installments in its content. Little-by-little, readers were given a free book.

I am going to begin doing this on Oboedire. Each Friday, I will post an installment of one of my unpublished books. Yes, I have some. And rather than keep them filed away, I want to share them with you.

Beginning tomorrow, I offer Jesus Unpainted, a look at Christlikeness through the lens of the fruit of the Spirit. Over time, Jesus has been “painted over” with many colors which hide his original-wood goodness. In this book, I restore “good-wood Jesus” using Paul’s list of the fruit of the Spirit to do so.

I have written this book in memory of a former student and dear friend to Jeannie and me, Nadine Richmond. When Jeannie told her I was thinking about writing a book entitled “Jesus unpainted,” she said, “Tell him he must do this!” Well, here it is, because of her enthusiasm, encouragement, and example of one who found and followed original-wood Jesus.

I hope you find this new feature on Oboedire to be helpful. If you know others who might like to get a free book along the lines of ‘Jesus Unpainted,’ let them know about it. Look for the first installment tomorrow.