A number of folks I hang around with that are asking hard questions about
the Bible and its place in the life of the child of God.
These conversations have been among friends,
believers, individuals who are passionately committed to the Bible as the
foundation for life, and who confidently acknowledge its profitability for
teaching, reproof, correction, and training in righteousness. I have heard many
honest people asking honest questions and expressing both conventional and
unconventional points of view. Some of those perspectives are kind of weird.
Some are troubling. Some make a lot of sense. A few qualify as “all of the
above.”
Such is the way of mere mortals as we learn
new truths. We poke and prod and ask questions; we wobble around and stumble;
we get up and give it another try. I’m thankful for honest friends who are
willing to help me in that stumbling. They’re not, WE are not questioning the foundation of the Bible, not in any way, shape, or form, but we
are questioning the traditional ways God’s people have related to God’s word.

I believe God is calling his Bride [hear me carefully here] to stop treating the Bible as a limitation, and to employ it more as a launch pad.
The Bible itself is filled with
directives (eg John
3:8-10, 14:26, 21:25, even 1 Corinthians11:14), instructing us to
extend our learning beyond the foundation of this magnificent, foundational
Book. The Bible is our foundation, our starting point. But a foundation is
useless unless one builds on it.
Several
New Testament writers bemoan an unwillingness of Christians to grow up. Hebrews
6 clearly describes the “milk” the new believers’ curriculum of the first
century: “…not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works and of
faith toward God, of the doctrine of baptisms, of laying on of hands, of resurrection
of the dead, and of eternal judgment.” These are the baby steps (“milk”) of the apostle’s teaching. After we learn
these, then we must move on to the “solid food” of the ways of God.
Unfortunately, the apostle could not write about the meat that was on his heart, because
those to whom that book was originally written were unready for real meat.
Someone wise has said, “It’s hard to expect
the results of the first century church when we rely more on a book they didn’t
have than the Spirit that they did have.” And we clearly do not have the
results of the first century church. When measured by the 1st century standard,
our 21st century church, which is well-grounded on the Book, has been an utter
failure at changing the world around us. When was the last time you saw a
spontaneous, accidental revival meeting in the streets of your hometown, with
thousands coming to faith in Christ? When was the last time that your church
saw someone so convicted of sin that they fell down dead? How many people have
you raised from the dead? We are (mostly) well-grounded in the Word, but we are mostly powerless.
If sola
scriptura (“doctrine that the Bible contains all knowledge necessary for
salvation and holiness.”) were enough, we’d be walking in way more power, way
more holiness, way more intimacy than we are.

Many believers, however, are not able to say,
“Wow, my church is amazing! I can’t imagine things any better!” We want to find
that “better.” My church, after twenty centuries of “growing,” should not lag
so ridiculously far behind the beginners, the absolute rookies of Jerusalem and
Antioch, who are the subjects of the Book of Acts: we’ve had two whole
millennia of the Holy Spirit in our midst, but not one church in a thousand
lives up to the first century, our “beginner’s standard.” If your church is
that one, then hallelujah! Mine is not, I’m afraid. And I WILL NOT SETTLE FOR THIS
WIMPY, POWERLESS CHRISTIANITY.
I will give everything I have to see the
church in my region grow up into that which Jesus died for. I have already
spent my fortune. I will risk my respectability, my reputation, my
understanding, my sanity in order to attain to the high calling that is still
un-touched before us. I will guard vigilantly against error, but because I am
going where nobody that I know has ever gone, I expect I will make mistakes, I
expect I will fall. But I will fall towards the goal, the high calling in
Christ Jesus. I will NOT settle back in my pew, put another check in the plate,
and pretend that we’re living up to the “greater works” that Jesus promised.
I haven’t raised a single person from the dead
yet, but I’ve tried several times. I’ve not transported from here to there like
Elijah and Philip and maybe even Jesus did, but it’s not for lack of trying. I
have visited Heaven, as Jesus did. I’ve never walked on water like he did, but
I’ve gotten soaked trying. I have changed the weather. I have sat with the King
of Heaven as He fell in love with me and sang me love songs. I have plundered
hell and brought back spoil for my King and my co-laborers. I have embarrassed
myself more times than I can count, pressing forward to apprehend what has been
promised to me.
Someone will say, “But you could get it wrong!
You could make a mistake! I must warn you! I must protect you from the
possibility of making a mistake!”
To which I answer: Of COURSE we’ll get it wrong! Of course we’ll make mistakes! We’ve never gone this way before. We’re rookies, for pity sake! We are NOT experts at this! But we’re not afraid of mistakes; we embrace them because they show progress. I’ve made a bundle of mistakes already, and I’ll bet you I’m not done yet. (Wonderfully educational things: mistakes.)
To which I answer: Of COURSE we’ll get it wrong! Of course we’ll make mistakes! We’ve never gone this way before. We’re rookies, for pity sake! We are NOT experts at this! But we’re not afraid of mistakes; we embrace them because they show progress. I’ve made a bundle of mistakes already, and I’ll bet you I’m not done yet. (Wonderfully educational things: mistakes.)

I will also listen to warnings from
my friends and companions who are running this race with me. If you feel the
need to warn me, come run with me for a while; I’m sorry: I won’t pay much
attention to people throwing stones, to people calling me names, to people
trying to kill me or my reputation. And I won’t listen to Pharisees. If you
want to be heard, this won’t work. I will not stop to have conversation with
those trying to stop me from running the race that He has set before me.
I’m comforted knowing that Jesus faced people who were content to judge him, and he didn’t listen to them either. They were so content with their system that they opposed, and then they killed, the King of Glory. They murdered a whole bunch of His followers, too. Those are not the people whose counsel I will be seeking in this race.
We often talk about how every movement of God
is opposed by the participants of the previous move of God: it’s true. There
are likely to be Christians – our own brothers and sisters – who oppose our
march toward “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven!”
It’s sad, but it is a reality.
I
invite you to join us. I invite you to leave your traditions, your respectability,
your doctrines and join in this mad passionate pursuit of Heaven! If you are
satisfied, if you don’t understand, or if the price is too high for you, that’s
OK: we offer no condemnation: stand aside, and watch us march, run, wander,
fall, get up and run again toward the finish line.
If you choose to be one of the naysayers,
please don’t be offended if we don’t stop and take notes on why you think that
the things we’re doing are impossible. Please don’t feel hurt if we don’t defer
to your contentment or your fear, or if we don’t abandon our passion for Jesus
in favor of your restraint and hesitation. I’ll try not to hurt you as I march
past. But I will not stop to listen to your fears.
I’m pressing forward. Lead, follow, or
get out of my way.