For those who read my blog (all 8 of you), I wanted to update you on some happenings in our lives. If you know anything about how I was raised, I was brought up in a conservative Southern Baptist home. My father, whom I respect immensely and love deeply, has been a pastor in the SBC for over 50 years. That’s right, 50. He’s been preaching longer than most of you reading this has been alive.
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When I came to faith in Christ at the age of 34, I knew I wasn’t really Baptist but I sure tried to be. I went to a Baptist seminary; we were members of an SBC church, sent out from an SBC church to plant an SBC church. But all along the way I was not content with the Baptist church. I felt their polity couldn’t really be defended from Scripture and I felt they were really weak on the sacraments. Now, before I go any further, please know that I am not, in any way, bashing the SBC. They are my brothers and sisters in Christ. We have our disagreements but I choose to focus on the things we have in common; our love for Jesus and the Word of God (the Bible).

I was introduced to reformed theology while in seminary. Coming to a covenantal understanding of Scripture changed my whole world and how I read and interpreted the Bible. This inevitably led to me embracing a reformed perspective of Christianity, including paedo-baptism. But I still felt something was missing. I felt like there had to be a way to have both orthodoxy (right belief) and orthopraxy (right practice) and I wanted to live my faith in a way that was both biblically precise and historically accurate.

So I began, at the suggestion of some friends and one of my former seminary professors, to read the Church Fathers. I learned and am still learning a lot from them. Now, I want to be clear here. I disagree with some of the things the Fathers thought and taught. But overall, I found myself delving deeper and deeper into early Christian practice. I wondered if there was to return to early Church practice (as much as possible in a 21st century context). Two things happened simultaneously.

First, I realized that the early Church had been structured in a specific way from very early on. As early as 100 AD and perhaps even before that, the Fathers were writing about bishops. I had been raised to believe that anything that “looked like Rome” was evil. But these guys were writing before there was “the Roman church.” The Roman church I was taught to hate had not really come into existence until the early Middle Ages. I remember thinking, “Hold on, some of the Fathers were direct disciples of the 12, the actual Apostles. And they got bishops from somewhere.” So I began to search the Bible for where they could have gotten it; which leads me to the second thing.

Simultaneous to reading the Fathers, I began to pore over the Bible to see if I could find what they saw that led them to structure the Church the way they did. And there it was in 1 Timothy 3; episkopos and presbyteros. Two distinct Greek words Paul used to describe two offices in the Church. Now, some of you will disagree with me here and will say that this is nuance, that Paul is using two words to refer to the same office but different functions of that office. I respectfully disagree with you. If Paul was referring to one office, why use very distinct words that have completely different meanings? I was a little confused. So I thought, “Let’s see what the early Church thought Paul meant,” and so I read the early Fathers. What I found changed me profoundly. As I said before, as early as 100AD and maybe earlier, the Church was structured around three offices; bishops, presbyters (priests/pastors) and deacons. I was stunned. All I had been taught to hate was right before my eyes in both the Bible and Church history.

I had to know: Is there anyone who had both orthodoxy and orthopraxy? I knew I couldn’t go to Rome due to some wonky theology. But there had to be someone out there who was doing it right, right? And I found it on the Canterbury trail. I found the Anglican Church. A dear brother sent me a 1928 Book of Common Prayer and the journey began. I began to follow the Daily Office and found that it quickly revolutionized my prayer life. I found the website for the ACNA (Anglican Church in North America) and downloaded the Eucharistic liturgy and began to study it. I was stunned by the richness, amount of Scripture being directly spoken and the deep history of the liturgy.

I was home.

I had found that expression of the Christian faith that was both biblically precise and historically accurate. So I jumped in with both feet, determined to walk in this way of following Jesus and worshipping him that, frankly, I was initially really uncomfortable with. I mean, dudes wearing robes, bowing to a cross, making the sign of the cross, some chanting and burning incense. It was all very weird for me at first. But what I found was that, over time, God’s Word in the liturgy and the ancient practice of my faith began to feel like home; warm and inviting me to step into the journey of the Christian faith that is different from the corruption of the world we live in.

And so, by God’s grace and if the bishop doesn’t throw me out first, I will be ordained as a transitional deacon in the ACNA on June 2nd. My ordination as a priest will follow at some point after that. I am so excited to have found my spiritual home!

Would you pray with me and my family and my church family as we walk through this together? I will remain as the lead pastor (soon to be priest) of South City Church. We may or may not, as time goes on, officially join the Anglican Church as a body. When or if that times comes, we will join, as a body, the historic Christian Church as we join them in worship of our great Saviour and King, Jesus Christ!
 
Soli Deo Gloria!

If you’ve spent any time around me over the last year or so you will very quickly hear about a couple of things. I talk about them incessantly. One is my family; my wife and daughters. The other is the worship of God’s people.

Specifically, the liturgical practice of Christian worship. Over the last year, I have immersed myself in the liturgical Christian practice. I didn’t do this in a haphazard manner or because I was bored. I did it for a couple of big reasons.

Number one, I was frankly bored with the worship of the mainline American Protestant church. I found it mostly entertainment and lacking in any real substance. Sure, the preaching wasn’t bad I suppose but that was pretty much it. Know what I mean?

It was like going to a concert then we sat down for like 45 minutes while some guy preached. Not that I’m against good music or good preaching. I love them both. We need good music in the Church and Lord knows we need faithful preachers. But I felt like there needed to be more. I felt like I wasn’t really participating, that somehow this was all designed to continue to feed into our narcissistic need to be entertained and “amused.” I just felt stuck.

So I went looking for something deeper.
And I found it.

Which leads me to reason two I’ve immersed myself in the liturgical Christian practice. I remember thinking, “I wonder what the early Church worship was like?” And so I began to read and study and research. I read a lot of the Church Fathers (and continue to) and people who wrote about the early Church and their worship. And you know what I found? I found that the early Church also was immersed in a liturgical Christian practice. A lot of the early Church practices emerged from Jewish worship, which was highly liturgical. Very early on, liturgical worship was pretty much set in the Church.

By the way, if you think that the liturgical church is too white or only for white educated people, I suggest you take another look. The source of the liturgy is the Bible, written by distinctly not white dudes and a lot of the liturgical structure and practice was based on Jewish tradition…also non white people. And the major hub of the Anglican Church in the world right now is on the continent of Africa, populated by mostly non-white folks. All I’m saying is, know your history and your facts before shooting your mouth off.

But before we go too far, let me define my terms here. I want to specifically define the term liturgy. There are far too many people who think they know what liturgy means but have no idea. Liturgy is, of course, a set form of worship; the words we speak aloud, the prayers we pray aloud, the Creeds we confess aloud, the gathering at the Lord’s Table. But the word liturgy, to me, brings depth and “real life” practice to the form of liturgy. Liturgy is a combination of two Greek words that mean “the work of the people.”

So liturgy isn’t just what we say in worship, although it is not less than that. It is also what we do with our lives as Christians, the Christian rhythms of our life; the work of God’s people in his Church and the world.

I had a conversation recently with a friend who said something along the lines of changing the culture of a church through liturgy. My friend made it sound like a negative thing. It was like this person was saying, “I feel like the culture of the church is changing to become liturgical.” My first thought was, “Man, I sure hope so!”

You dang right, liturgy changes things. I want to talk briefly about three specific things liturgy can and should change.
1. Liturgy changes how we walk in the world.
The rhythms of our life express what we give meaning to. I’ll explain a bit. What we do shows everyone around us what we value. Our culture values status, self fulfillment and self actualization, pride, achievement and so on.
So how we live our lives, as Christians, in the world shows those around us what we value. So when we come to worship (in Anglican liturgy), the first thing we do is immediately counter cultural. The first thing we do is say who God is and not who we are. Our worship begins with God. Our opening words are:

“Blessed be God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And blessed be his kingdom, now and forever. Amen.”

The first words out of our mouths are about God and who he is.
Nothing about me or you or our selfie generation. And I love it.

If our first response when we rise in the morning and our last thought at night is one of praise to God for who he is (see the Daily Office), it changes how we walk in the world. Our priorities are shifted, our gaze is lifted and our hearts changed to look not at ourselves but at God.

2. Liturgy changes how we walk with one another.
We are so selfish. Can we just admit that, even in the Church? We want our thing and we want to be comfortable and we frankly don’t give two craps how you feel about it. We want what we want.

But if we will walk with one another in humility with each other, confessing our sins to one another and making this about God and not ourselves, we will see change. One of the beautiful things about liturgical worship is that it flattens the ground we stand on. Here’s what I mean.

We all stand equally condemned before God’s judgment. But Jesus has taken our penalty upon himself on the cross, buried and raised for our salvation and freedom from sin and death. There is no socio economic status at the foot of the cross. Our liturgy reminds us of this every week as we confess our sins together. In confession we say to each other that we are all equally sinners in need of grace and we say to God that only he can provide us what we need. We confess our common faith together. In fact our entire liturgy is what we do together; what we say to God and to each other together. And so we stand in solidarity and humility together.
Liturgy changes how we walk with each other.

3. Liturgy changes how we walk with God.
This is really the crux of it all. Prior to me walking this path I really felt like my practice of Christianity was very self- focused. Our liturgy obliterates selfishness. The entire Eucharistic liturgy isn’t about me or you at all. It’s entirely God focused as the people of God worship God as he has said in his Word together. That’s not to say that there is not at least some individual experience, for there surely is. But that individual worship experience is focused on the person of the triune God, the person and source of our faith since humans have been in relationship with God.

Not only does our worship turn our eyes and hearts to God, it also propels us on mission. For those who would say that the liturgical church is all about merely form and that it is cold and dead, I say you have not paid attention to what we are saying in the liturgy. The gospel is proclaimed throughout, God’s goodness and kingly rule lifted up and the gospel is fleshed out in the Eucharist. From his goodness we have received. Not only that, our final prayer propels us on mission when we pray, week after week,

“And now, Father, send us out to do the work you have given us to do, to love and serve you as faithful witnesses of Christ our Lord.”

This is mission. This is the heart of the gospel. God, our Father, has given his Son Jesus Christ our Lord on our behalf. And now we go as faithful witnesses, gospel proclaimers into the world he has created and all for his glory.
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Does liturgy change us?
By God’s grace, I pray it will!
 
Soli Deo Gloria!

I’m preaching through the book of Ephesians right now. Although I’ve read through this epistle many times and bits and pieces of it many times and even preached smaller from it before, I’ve never done a deep dive into like I am now.

The pay off has been rich.

In the past, there were really only two parts of this epistle that I had paid that much attention to; the beautiful passage of 2:1-10 and the armour of God passage in chapter 6. So needless to say, my view of Ephesians was a tad small. What was really lacking of my past experience with Ephesians was Paul’s robust theology and identity of the Church. And so was mine. I still have much work to do in this area but man, there’s some good stuff about who the Church is in Ephesians.

One of the things I love about Paul is that he always grounds how we live in the gospel. He always tells us first who we are before reminding us how we should live.

In other words, gospel proclamation is the fuel of heart change. It is only in our fully grasping our standing in Christ that we are free to actually see transformation in our lives. The reason for that is that we aren’t the one effecting the change. By his Spirit applying the gospel to our lives through our faith in Christ is the only way that God can give us the heart change we so desperately need.

I want to go back to something I just said for a minute. This idea of fully grasping our standing in Christ is not something that we grasp intellectually. I should say it is not only something we grasp intellectually. To only “understand” our standing intellectually means we don’t have a fully orbed understanding of how God has redeemed us in Christ. This is one of the weaknesses, I believe in the Reformed world. We, in the Reformed world, care more about the intellectual understanding of theological concepts and doctrine than we do the redemption of the whole person, I fear. We are far too close to being Gnostic if we’re not careful. Before all the Reformed guys attack me for saying that, stop for a second and ask yourself some hard questions first.

Here’s partly what I mean by it not being merely intellectual. We need to be able to not only grasp redemption from an intellectual standpoint but also live it out from a physical standpoint. See, Jesus came to redeem our whole person. He didn’t just come to teach a set of doctrines or theological concepts, even though he also did that. He came to save our whole person.

Let me explain a bit further.

We are not just brains on a stick. I read that somewhere but can’t remember where so apologies to whoever coined that phrase for not using your name. We’re not just brains on a stick. We are more than intellectual beings. We are embodied souls. We are minds, yes. We are souls, yes. But we are also flesh, muscle, bone, blood etc…We are embodied. God meant something when he made us flesh.

God meant something when he came in the second person of the Trinity, incarnate in flesh, in a man named Jesus of Nazareth. If God is making for himself a people (made up of human flesh including the human flesh of Jesus) then we can’t neglect the redemption of our flesh in our theology.

This is one of the many things I love about the liturgical church. Liturgical worship incorporates the whole person. We stand, we speak, we sing, we sit, we kneel, we come to the altar and receive bread and wine. We eat and drink, we shake hands and hug and pass along God’s peace to one another. We worship with our whole being: mind, body and soul. And it is wonderfully refreshing and thick and real and ties our worship to who God has made us to be:

The body of Christ.
 
Soli Deo Gloria!