Thursday, February 17, 2011

Truth Isn't Always Safe



Nights like tonight are by far the best part of getting to live in the city of Nashville.

Nashville has been dubbed "Music City USA" and it is deserving of its name. From the country music that flows unceasingly into downtown from the doorways of honky-tonks and dance halls, to the young guy who serenades customers outside Sweet Cece's (the local frozen yogurt shop), to the Bridgestone Arena--Nashville's music venue with a seating capacity of 20,000, live music absolutely permeates this city.

But in the six months that I've been in school here, nothing else quite measures up to the way that I got to experience "Music City" tonight. I didn't pay a lot of money for a ticket and I didn't attend a crowded concert in a trendy venue. Instead, I made my way to Bongo Java East, a little unassuming coffee shop that hosted a few local musicians tonight.

Anyone who walked through the doorway of Bongo Java tonight was greeted by the warm smell of coffee and warm smiles from everyone in the room.

The performers at the coffee shop tonight were all singers and song-writers who have established themselves as Christian artists. And the crowd of believers that gathered to hear them shared a strikingly sweet community. Hugs, and smiles, and laughter characterized the crowd, and as people filtered through the door one or two at a time, everyone was greeted warmly by an elderly man who sat by the door saying simply "Welcome, brother" or "Welcome, sister" as people walked by.

As the music started, I settled down into a little coffee shop chair in the second row of the audience. As the opening performers played, I sipped a chai latte and slipped into a comfortable mindset of worship as I listened to the songs sung as praise to Jesus.

It wasn't long though, before my level of comfort in the feel-good aspects of Christianity was challenged. When Tiffany Arbuckle Lee of the band Plumb took the microphone, I was expecting a rather simple, but pleasant rendition of songs of hers that I've heard on the radio. I was so wrong. Instead, she chose to preform her new, and as of yet, unrecorded song "Unlovable." Written as a challenge to the modern church, "Unlovable" speaks from the perspective of an outsider, someone who has been rejected, rather than embraced in love, by followers of Jesus:

               "Why am I not welcome in your company?
                 Why do you treat me like an enemy?
                 If you believe the way you say you do,
                 Then why am I unlovable to you?"

Wow. Anyone else feeling convicted? I know I'm unable to read those lyrics without being brought to absolute humility in the face of my inability to love people in a way that demonstrates even a reflection of the love of my Savior.

To be honest, these lyrics even make me feel a little bit uncomfortable. I know that they speak truth, but they provide such a striking challenge to the way that I, along with most other believers, live my life. It feels safe, comfortable, and predictable to associate with people that are like us. I think it's this tendency of our hearts that draws us to choose friends and neighbors that are just the same as we are. And this same tendency of our hearts overflows into our spiritual life and leads us to join congregations, participate in Bible studies, and worship with people that are like ourselves. Often, our churches look like we do--and I'm particularly convicted to think about the wonderful campus ministry I've gotten involved with here at Vanderbilt. I love it dearly, but for the most part, it is filled with people that look and think and act (and are even in the same sorority) as me. I love to gather and fellowship and worship Jesus with those people, but there's something missing in the picture when too many of the people we love are just like we are.

The Gospel is so much bigger and so much more powerful than our proclivity to love and associate in simple, comfortable circles of same-ness. We are loved with a radical, unceasing love. We are sinners loved immeasurably by a perfect God. And when we have been captivated and transformed by that love, the mark of being a new creation in Jesus is supposed to be our love for one another.

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you are also to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples."
              John 13:35

We are called to love as Jesus loves, and his love is a love that transcends boundaries of race, age, and religion. His love is a restorative love that binds broken hearts. His love is a forgiving love that looks past our imperfections, to see who we are rather than what we've done. He has loved us with a perfect love. And although we are sinful and imperfect, even a broken love that emulates Jesus' love is powerful enough to display to the world that we are followers of Christ.

All too often though, we as the church of Christ, do not demonstrate the love of Christ. Anyone is capable of loving someone who looks and thinks and acts the way they do. I think it's time for us, as believers, to embrace Christ's new command and love one another--even love those people that are different or disagreeable or hard to love. For if we have been loved unconditionally, how can we not love in return?

In a simple three minute song, I was drawn out of my comfort-zone and challenged to step away from a "safe" approach to Christianity. Through a few lines of lyrics, I was called to embrace the teachings of the Jesus of the Bible, rather than the teachings of a white-washed over-simplified version of religion. Christianity is radical. It isn't always safe, and it isn't always comfortable...and I faced that truth more than once tonight.

I faced that truth again in the final performance of the night. The last musician to play in tonight's line-up was Derek Webb. I pretty much grew up on Derek Webb's music. When I was little, Derek sang with Caedmon's Call. Their music was like the soundtrack to my childhood. I can remember so many nights of talking with my parents while they washed the dishes and songs like "There You Go" or "Thy Mercy" played in the background. (To this day, "Thy Mercy" remains my favorite song of all time). And  I have such vivid, happy childhood memories of dancing with my Daddy in the kitchen to the song "Hands of the Potter."

But more recently, Derek Webb split from Caedmon's Call to pursue a solo career. While preforming on his own, his music has drawn great criticism for straying from a "traditionalist" stand-point on the Gospel. I don't know if you're familiar with the controversy, or how you might feel about some of his more recently released music...and to be honest, I don't know if it really matters.

What I do know is that Derek Webb has chosen to proclaim truth that he feels deeply convicted about at the expense of both his financial success as an artist and his popular reception among fans. And I respect that.

The Gospel isn't easy, and it isn't popular. The world isn't receptive to the truth that we are all broken and in need of a Savior who redeems by grace alone. That truth defies everything that our society is built upon, and people don't want to hear a message that calls attention to our brokenness and unworthiness.

I was particularly moved when he sang lines from his song "Nobody Loves Me":

     "I'm a dangerous crusader, because I need to tell the truth"

     "The truth is never sexy, so it's not an easy sell"

     "So I'll say the words that rattle your nerves, words like sin
      and faith alone"

I need to tell the truth. The truth is never sexy. I'll say the words that rattle your nerves, words like sin and faith alone. As I listened, I was struck, full-force by the power of the Gospel and our need to speak its truth it regardless of the way in which we will be perceived by our culture for proclaiming Jesus.

So tonight, I am thankful to live in Nashville. I am thankful for free concerts in my favorite little coffee shops. I am thankful for good music. And I am thankful for the simple ways in which God pulls at my heart, to more fully reveal his truth to me.

As Webb sings, "The truth is never sexy, so it's not an easy sell." The truth of the Gospel is not appealing to our culture. It isn't always safe. It isn't always comfortable. But it is beautiful and essential and life-giving. We have been captivated and transformed by love and our eyes have been oped to this truth that is worthy to be lived out and proclaimed in every chance we get.

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