My primary concern in this conversation has been to show how salvation and the gospel, as Jesus used those terms, relate much more to life before we die than many of us have considered. It would appear from various texts (John 1:4; 1 John 5:11-12; Romans 5:10; Ephesians 2:4-5) that we can almost use the word “salvation” synonymously with the word “life”. Salvation is life. Lack of salvation is death.

Dallas Willard concurs:

The issue, so far as the gospel in the Gospels is concerned, is whether we are alive to God or dead to him. Do we walk in an interactive relationship with him that constitutes a new kind of life, life “from above”? As the apostle John says in his first letter, “God has given undying love to us, and that life is in his Son. Those who have the Son have life” (1 John 5:11-12).

What must be emphasized in all of this is the difference between trusting Christ, the real person Jesus, with all that that naturally involves, versus trusting some arrangement for sin-remission set up through him — trusting only his role as guilt remover. To trust the real person Jesus is to have confidence in him in every dimension of our real life, to believe that he is right about and adequate to everything.

Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy, pp. 48-49

Jesus came to bring us life (John 10:10), and it’s not just a “barely-get-by-grin-and-bear-it” kind of life. He offers us life to the fullest extent — abundant life — life overflowing and running out your ears. It begins now and lasts for all of eternity — not even death can take it away from you. It makes life now better than we ever imagined it could be, and promises a life to come that is even better still.

The life Jesus offers us is better than our feeble imaginations can describe or even imagine.

And it is ours for the asking. All we have to do is respond to his simple invitation: “Follow Me.”

Tomorrow morning you’ll be given the choice to follow him or not. Right now — as you’re reading this — you’re given that same choice. Most of the people reading this blog were presented that choice some time ago, and you responded by saying, “Yes.” But each and every day you’re given the choice to make again.

When Jesus first encounters Peter in Mark’s Gospel, his first words to the fisherman were: “Come, follow me” (Mark 1:17). Jesus final encounter with Peter in John’s Gospel contain the very same words: “Follow me!” (John 21:19).

Some of the people reading this are more like Peter at the beginning of the story. You’re young and naive and idealistic. You don’t know much about Jesus or what he really means when he says some of the outlandish things he says. All you know is there’s something about this man, and your heart is telling you that it would be worth it to do whatever it takes to follow him wherever he goes. He’s offering you that chance right now.

Some of the people reading this are more like Peter at the end of the story. You’ve been around the block a few times. You know how dangerous this whole enterprise is. You’ve been disillusioned and disappointed. You’ve sinned in a deliberate and hurtful way, and you may not even be sure you can ever recover. He’s offering you the same chance now.

The issue comes down to trust. Will you follow him? Will you trust Jesus with not only your eternity and your sin problem? Will you trust him with every area of your life as well? That choice settles the issue of salvation — of life and death.

I don’t know what’s going on in your life as you read this. But I can answer for me — for tonight: I’m going to follow him. And I’m going to trust that that settles the issue.

The way we define “salvation” has obvious implications.

For example, if salvation is something that is easily lost, then perhaps it is better to wait as long as possible before asking for it. If salvation is something that cannot be lost, then we must be very careful not to become complacent. If salvation is only concerned with getting us into heaven when we die, then maybe we should be in more of a hurry to get there. If salvation is about health and wealth in this world, then we don’t have that much to look forward to, do we?

Perhaps we should start by asking what is it precisely that we are saved from. The verse I mentioned yesterday says that Jesus “will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21). But what exactly does that mean? Is that the same as being saved from hell? My, the questions have begun to multiply, haven’t they?

What exactly is salvation?

If I want salvation, how do I get it?

If salvation is mine, what am I saved from?

What do I do with this salvation once I have it?

I grew up singing a song that had this line in it: “The gospel in a word is: love”.

It then went on to say, “The gospel in a word is: peace” and “The gospel in a word is: joy”.

It never said, “The gospel in a word is: hard” — even though that would have been just as accurate as the other words used.

I’ve been teaching a Wednesday night series for the past few months called “The Gospel According to Jesus”, and we’ve seen that his idea of what the gospel is and does differs from the way we tend to present it today. His idea is bigger, deeper, more far-reaching and way better than our feeble imaginations have dared to dream. Jesus’ version of the gospel doesn’t just concern itself with what happens to us after we die; it is concerned with how we are to live in the meantime.

So, I’m searching for how to conclude this series. I feel like I could teach on this subject for a very long time, but the leadership of the church that has hosted the class wants me to take a break after this week. How do I wrap this up?

I suppose the best way to start the end is to try and define what the Bible means when it uses the word “salvation”. After all, that’s what Jesus came to offer us, right? His very name means: “The LORD saves” (cf. Matthew 1:21).

Entire books have been written on this subject, but — if you had to boil it down — what does the word “salvation” mean?

A friend told me that he went to a mall and saw them putting up Christmas decorations…on October 30!

That’s too early.

This year I agreed to make two trips after Thanksgiving (I normally eschew trips during the Holidays so I can spend time with my family). I’ll be in California next weekend and in Alabama the weekend after that. So, we’re thinking maybe we’ll put the tree up and all that after I’m done traveling — that would be around December 11.

But that seems too late.

So, here’s my question for you: How early is too early to put up Christmas decorations? How late is too late?

Something that was implied in my last post but should be stated explicitly:

Ministry involvement is not a sign of maturity as much as it is a means to greater maturity.

In other words, people tend to look at folks who are involved in ministry as if they are spiritually mature people. This mindset often prevents some people from volunteering. They believe they’re not ready to do that yet — as if it is best to leave ministry for people who are further down the path than they are.

In reality, I know lots of people who are heavily involved but are still immature. We don’t engage in ministry because we are fully grown; we engage in ministry because we need to grow.

Ministry is beyond important in the Kingdom of God; it is essential. It is “of the essence of” life in God’s kingdom. It is absolutely necessary for people to be plugged into ministry opportunities if they are to grow and the community of faith is to thrive.

I’ve always been an advocate of helping people discover their gifts and get plugged in to places where they can strategically serve others. I’ve advocated this because I do not believe individuals can grow and become mature without serving others. As our friends in A.A. know: There is no healing without helping. Until you roll up your sleeves and get to work somewhere there will always be parts of your life that are unhealthy.

But there’s another reason why people must be encouraged to take on ministry responsibilities: Churches cannot survive otherwise. I’m not talking about a church not being able to pull off its programming because they’re short-staffed (although there are loads of short-staffed churches that continue to try and pull things off and end up killing their volunteers in the process). I’m talking about something much bigger.

People who come to church and refuse to get involved are poisonous. They’re toxic. They sit and soak and end up bloated and complaining. They’re unhealthy, and they will destroy a community. Dietrich Bonhoeffer recognized this and wrote: “A community which allows unemployed members to exist within it will perish because of them” (Bonhoefffer, Life Together, p. 94).

He doesn’t mean people who can’t find a job in the workplace; he means people who don’t have a job in the community of faith. And he doesn’t say that they will add to the demise of the community; he says they will bring about the demise of the community.

How many churches have been killed by “unemployed members”? We’ll probably never know. But it’s time for leaders within Christian communities to make ministry non-optional for its members. It’s time to stress the essentiality of ministry.

Sin is the problem that keeps us from experiencing the life God wants for us. The life we always wanted but never thought possible. The life the Old Testament prophets described in amazing picturesque language. The life characterized by the word “Shalom”. Life as it is supposed to be.

Sin prevents us from entering into the joy of God, the peace of God, the love and rest and fulfillment he has purchased for us at immeasurable cost. Sin disrupts and destroys and corrodes everything it touches. It is pervasive and persistent. It has touched everything about me: my heart, my mind, my body, my feelings, my thoughts, my actions. It has touched everything about our world: governments, businesses, families, churches. There is not one part of me or of this world that is untainted by the disruptive effects of sin.

Sin is bad — far worse than words can describe.

But sin is not the final word.

Evil rolls across the ages, but so does good. Good has its own momentum. Corruption never wholly succeeds. (Even blasphemers acknowledge God.) Creation is stronger than sin and grace stronger still. Creation and grace are anvils that have worn out a lot of our hammers.

To speak of sin by itself, to speak of it apart from the realities of creation and grace, is to forget the resolve of God. God wants shalom and will pay any price to get it back. Human sin is stubborn, but not as stubborn as the grace of God and not half so persistent, not half so ready to suffer to win its way. Moreover, to speak of sin by itself is to misunderstand its nature: sin is only a parasite, a vandal, a spoiler. Sinful life is a partly depressing, partly ludicrous caricature of genuine human life. To concentrate on our rebellion, defection, and folly — to say to the world “I have some bad news and I have some bad news” — is to forget that the center of the Christian faith is not our sin but our Savior. To speak of sin without grace is to minimize the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the fruit of the Spirit, and the hope of shalom. (Cornelius Plantinga, Jr., Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin, pp. 198-99)

Sin is the problem; grace is the solution. Grace is not a way of resolving the problem provided we combine it with other things. Grace is the once-and-for-all, paid-in-full, settled-for-good resolution.

Grace is not a solution; grace is the solution.

And it’s freely available to each and every one of us.

Watching the harrowing tragedy of Ted Haggard unfold, I’ve been struck by a few things. First, I am so glad that there weren’t millions of people watching me at my darkest hour. I’ve fallen off my high horse more times than I can count, and, for some strange reason, I keep climbing back up on it. I’ve never purchased meth and a massage from a male prostitute, but I’ve done plenty of other things that, in retrospect, appear equally depraved and just plain stupid.

I know what it’s like to be caught in a lie. I know what it’s like to be embarrassed and humiliated by the depths of my own depravity. I know what it’s like to stare up from the bottom of a pit I dug with my own hands and wonder if I could ever get out — to long for the ability to fly backwards around the world, reverse time and undo what I did.

I just don’t know what it’s like to do that with the whole world watching.

I’ve also been struck by how much joy this has brought many people. Ted has officially been thrown under the bus by people — Christians and non-Christians. People are questioning the sincerity of his confession, carefully analyzing his letter for clues as to whether he is really sorry for what he did or just sorry he got caught (as if they are privy to what goes on in his heart). People are speculating on whether or not this ongoing struggle of his is what fueled his passion for teaching his understanding of what the Bible teaches on things like homosexuality (and mostly they are applying truckloads of armchair psychology — the kind they chafe against when applied to them).

The sad truth is that Ted has now reinforced nearly every negative stereotype of an Evangelical Preacher. A man is in shambles. A family is in ruins. A church is in confusion. A nation voyeuristically watches.

Mostly, what I’ve been struck with is something profoundly simple, something most of us tend to overlook in situations like this, something few of us want to admit but are forced to if we are to learn anything from this whole ordeal.

Sin is bad.

Sin is worse than we think it is.

Sin is the most awful and terrible of all things.

C.S. Lewis said that sin promises more and more while delivering less and less until it eventually promises everything and delivers nothing.

Sin corrupts everything it touches. It corrupts relationships. It corrupts the character of the one who sins, and it threatens to corrupt the character of the one who is sinned against. It’s terribly contagious.

Sin is squarely in the center of what happened in the Ted Haggard debacle. And sin is what makes me want to pick the bones clean. It’s far easier to analyze Ted’s sin than it is to stare my own sin in the face and admit that there’s little wrong with Ted that’s not also wrong with John.

Sin is not a problem; sin is the problem

And it’s deeply imbedded in me.

I invited Jesus to hang out with me yesterday. I went to bed with that invitation in my mind and woke up with an awareness of his presence. We talked a lot — all day — about lots of stuff. We talked about Ted Haggard and his family. We talked about me and my family. We talked about some of the other people who had been at the retreat.

We went to the bank together, and we talked about how terrible I am at handling my money.

We went to the grocery store together, and we talked about people in other parts of the world who don’t have enough. We talked about how much I have and how little I do with it.

We ate dinner together, and he gently suggested when I’d had enough.

We watched Monday Night Football and talked about what’s wrong with the Raiders offence. Jesus recommended I hit “mute” during the commercials.

Nothing really unusual happened. I did the kinds of things I normally do. I did them mostly the same way.

But I found more peace yesterday. I was less inclined to say angry or judgmental things. Praying for people (rather than saying something rude about them) become my default response.

So maybe that was a little unusual.

I just got back from speaking at a retreat this weekend. I challenged myself and all the folks there to spend tomorrow with Jesus — to live tomorrow as if Jesus was just hanging out with them the entire time.

I asked them to think about how much sleep they should get to be their best for the big day. Then I asked them to acknowledge him first thing in the morning and tell him everything they’ve got planned.

One thing I tried to stress is that they don’t need to quit their jobs in order to do this. They don’t need to move to a cave somewhere. Living with Jesus is supposed to be something we can do in our regular lives.

So, I asked them to shower with Jesus, to eat breakfast with Jesus, to read the newspaper with Jesus. I asked them to imagine Jesus sitting in the car with them (that’ll make you think twice about lots of things!). I asked them to make Monday “Take Jesus to Work Day”.

I even suggested that Jesus might want to watch some television with them. (He will probably want to watch Monday Night Football, and he will probably root for The Radiers!)

Here’s my idea: If you can live one day with Jesus, you can live every day with Jesus.

And I am inviting you to participate. If you want to, let Jesus tag along with you. The truth is, he’s there anyway. I’m just asking you to be intentional about it, to acknowledge his presence with you and invite him to participate in your day.

If you decide to play along, I want to hear your story here.

This could be fun.