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By Andy, January 1, 2007 10:15 pm

…Jesus comes into the world as an infant, the weakest of the weak, completely unnoticed by most of the outside world. What’s more, he shows up in the womb of an unwed teenage mom. The story has scandal written all over it.

Rick McKinley, Jesus in the Margins

I took my kids to see The Nativity Story today, and I as watched the film, I could not help but think of McKinley’s summary of the pregnancy of Mary and the birth of Jesus in the second chapter of his book, cited above. The film does a beautiful job of capturing the feel of Jewish society in a small town, something that we would not necessarily glean from the Gospel accounts in our 21st Century western worldview. We are transported 2,000 years ago, viewing the story through the eyes of Mary and Joseph, so that we can understand the scandalous nature of the event from a materialistic and legalistic viewpoint.

Mary, his mom, was probably somewhere between twelve and fifteen years old when she conceived Jesus. She’s a young teenager who is engaged to a man…whose name is Joseph…And since everybody knows everything in small towns, all of Nazareth knows that Joseph and Mary are engaged.

Then comes the shocking news. When Joseph discovers that Mary is pregnant, he’s a broken man. All the things run through his mind that would run through anyone’s mind if he found out the young woman he loves and is engaged to is carrying a child, even though he’s never had sex with her. Joseph decides to break off their relationship quietly, trying to make the whole horrible mess go away without totally destroying Mary’s reputation, when the angel of God shows up and explains to him what God is up to.

Rick McKinley, Jesus in the Margins

And that is what we see in the film…and more. We see Joseph’s shock and confusion, we see the confusion and anger and sadness with Mary’s parents, we see the townspeople of Nazareth, once so welcoming and friendly towards Mary, shunning her because of her apparently scandalous behaviour. I kept thinking of the passage in the Gospel of John, “can anything good come Nazareth?”

What’s amazing is to see that when God speaks, Mary and Joseph listen. When He literally speaks to them through the angel, they realize what it is they must do. Certainly, they are afraid of what is to come, but they know they are doing God’s will.

I was touched on many levels watching this film. Like my friend Will, in his review of this film, I was moved to tears on more than one occasion, and I know I will never read the first chapter of Luke (in particular) quite the same after seeing this film. When Mary and Elizabeth meet, I could feel the joy each woman shares in seeing the other, especially when in all humility Elizabeth asks why she should be so blessed that Mary, the mother of the future Messiah, would visit her.

I have read that passage many times, as a youth and as an adult, yet the power and the beauty of the moment hit me as I witnessed it reenacted on film. There is joy knowing that neither woman is alone in terms of their experience, but more so in knowing that they are now part of something considerably bigger than them, and that there is hope.

Out of what appeared to be a huge scandal, from human eyes, comes the One who would one day die for our sins. Seeing the baby on screen, and knowing what will become of that child thirtysomething years later, I could see that the true scandal is that we allowed ourselves to make the choice to sin in the first place.

The sacrifice He made for us, so that we could be with Him again, is quite simply the greatest gift we could ever hope to have.

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By Andy, December 18, 2006 4:33 am

Understanding the meaning of a “personal relationship with Jesus” took a long time for me. I know Jesus lived 2,000 years ago; I know he was a real guy with real feelings; I know that he really angered the local establishment with all his crazy claims of deity and being the Son of God; I know that he was nailed to a cross because all those folks didn’t like him.

I knew all that. In my mind, I knew the Christ story, from Christmas to Easter, and all the various church seasons in-between. Quite frankly, it was hard to forget, since my church always had new felt banners up in the sanctuary and on the pulpit and communion tables to mark the change of seasons, whether Advent, Pentecost, Lent or any other season that I fail to mention. I knew the 23rd Psalm, I knew the Lord’s Prayer (I attended a “debtors” church while attending a “trespasses” school), I knew the Doxology (”Praise God from whom all blessings flow…”), I knew the Apostles Creed - I even knew how to read the little numbers just above the upper clef that indicated how many syllables were in each line of a church hymn.

But I didn’t know Jesus.

The church I grew up in (and a subsequent church a few years ago) were not authentic Christian communities. These were places in which faith was viewed privately. Rick McKinley, in his book Jesus in the Margins, writes:

If faith is truly a private matter, then the only thing Christians have in common is a regular event called church, and there is no authentic relationship with one another in Christ. The shame of spiritual isolation is compounded when we realize that even at church no one knows who we really are. I talked with one person who told me that if anyone at church really knew who she was, the doubts and struggles she faced, they simply would not accept her. That floats over her head like a cartoon thought-bubble in a comic strip. It forces her to smile at church and tell everyone how great she is doing. The irony is, everyone there has the same bubble over their head and is thinking the same thing. And our enemy Satan has a field day.

In not knowing Jesus, I also missed out on what the church experience is supposed to be: that of a community of believers that is used by Jesus to help each of us become who He intended us to be. McKinley writes further:

Jesus and the New Testament writers tell us that we need each other. We need each other to help us develop into all that God intends for us to become.

When I came forward a little more than a year ago, in front of 20 or so believers, describing my testimony, I could feel at that moment that Jesus was finally making His home in my heart. It was at that moment that I knew that I was a part of a Christian community, warts and all. Is it perfect? Of course not - we’re all still sinners. And each of us continues to work at becoming more honest with ourselves and with each other about our own failings.

We don’t want to open up our hearts to fellow believers. It is hard. It is scary. It is messy. Because we are all like the woman in McKinley’s quote above - we are all afraid that we will not be accepted, much less loved, by others - even those in the church. But I have hope - as each of us recognizes our own failings in our lives we will pray for and lift each other up as we see ourselves in the faces of fellow believers. And we will have confidence doing it, because we know that Jesus is in the building - He’s in His House - which is in your heart and in mine.

Be free. Be honest. Be real.

13You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love. 14The entire law is summed up in a single command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Galatians 5: 13, 14 (NIV)

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By Andy, November 20, 2006 4:36 am

It was bound to happen.

This morning I sat in the church office at 10 am ready to teach my jr high/high school Sunday School class, donuts ready, my well-worn copy of Jesus in the Margins in hand, and my kids in tow (as my wife was asleep after another night shift at the hospital).

At 10:10 am, I sat in the church office ready to teach my jr high/high school Sunday School class, donuts ready, my well-worn copy of Jesus in the Margins in hand, and my kids in tow.

At 10:20 am, I sat in the church office ready to teach my jr high/high school Sunday School class, donuts ready, my well-worn copy of Jesus in the Margins in hand, and my kids in tow.

At 10:25 am, one student, a sophomore, came into class.

Class ends at 10:35 am so that several of us can assist setting up for the service at 11 am.

I said, “Don’t worry about class, it’s over, but how was your week?” I don’t think she caught the facetiousness in my voice.

I was mad. Yes, I had gotten an email from one of the students the other day as her sister is sick, but even when they come, they typically arrive around 10:15 am. When the class is only 35 minutes long, before the worship service, missing 15 minutes is a big deal.

We’ve had a couple of weeks with good attendance, and many more with poor attendance. I discussed this with a couple of my closest friends in the church (one of whom has a daughter who has been attending regularly - except today) and they generally agreed that if this trend continues, I should view it as a sign that perhaps God wants to move me out of this ministry.

I’m in a quandry, because I’m not exactly sure where God is leading me right now. Do I simply give it another week and if there’s poor attendance, cancel the class, take a break and pray for the next teaching ministry opportunity, if that’s what He wants me to do? Or do I plug away, preparing each week for class, hoping that perhaps a couple of students will appear, as I have 6 more chapters to cover?

I would like to teach an adult education class, using one of the many books I’ve read as source material, but I’m not sure if that desire is my own or God’s. In talking with a brother today, he suggested the possibility of us co-teaching an adult ed class, alternating classes, or we offer concurrent classes with one doing a more doctrinal based class while the other does a more relationally focused class.

They’re all good ideas, and perhaps God is leading me down that road after cutting my teeth on youth. While my church does not offer a youth group, most of the kids are attending youth groups at other churches with whom we associate - so the youth group needs are being filled elsewhere in town, and only a few blocks away from our church.

I guess I’m at one of those many crossroads that we experience in our journey.