Pastor John Van Sloten

After speaking at Trinity Western University yesterday, I got an email from a student who ran my presentation PowerPoint. He wrote that he’d love to be part of a future sermon research team on ‘catalysts’.  He’s a chem major, heading for med school, planning to work in a research lab this summer, and he was totally stoked about entering into a process where he could discern where God is at work in what he’s so passionate about.

This happens all the time.  Wherever I’ve been travelling lately, people express an interest to get involved; the geology prof from Calvin College, the chem prof from Colorado State University, Christian film critics who I connect with online, the geology student in my workshop last Saturday.  I find this so amazing…. selfishly, in terms of the exegetic resource I get to tap into, and more broadly, in terms of the kingdom implications of this two book vision.  Evidently people of faith are very eager to discern God’s words in their worlds.

How many scientists, business persons, engineers, artists, designers, marketers, mechanics, students and teachers are out there in other churches; dying to do the same thing with their faith, with their pastors?

1. They don’t believe God speaks through creation.

2. They’ve never considered that God speaks through creation.

3. They can’t hear what God is saying through creation.

4. They don’t know how to preach a creation text.

5. They’re afraid they’ll dishonour God’s other book – the bible – if they preach creation.

6. They think the creation text is evil (of the world).

7. They think they are preaching creation when they’re only preaching illustrations.

Last month I drafted something up for a friend; my best shot at trying to express how a resurrected two-book worldview could enliven and renew the church.  I don’t know if I fully captured all that I’m dreaming of, but here’s what I wrote;

Jesus is speaking throughout creation: what if we listened?

A proposal for renewal in the Christian Reformed Church of North America

“I think I see what you are doing. I’ve spent my entire life connecting the Jesus of the New Testament to the Jesus of the Old Testament. You are connecting the Jesus of the New Testament to the resurrected Jesus today.” Dr. Sidney Greidanus, Old Testament and Preaching Professor emeritus, Calvin Seminary, in response to my talk about the vision of New Hope CRC in Calgary, at the CRC sesquicentennial conference at Calvin College, 2007

What if the Christian Reformed Church is meant to be a church that connects the Jesus of the bible to the resurrected Jesus today?  What if our calling is to tie what he said then to what he’s saying now?

In the CRC, we’ve always believed in a God who reveals himself through two books; the bible and creation (Belgic Confession Art. 2).  We hold a very high view of the Holy Spirit; that it authors all truth (Calvin), moves in commonly gracious ways (Kuyper), and holds the entire cosmos together. We have a very big view of God’s providence and sovereignty, that not a hair can fall from our heads apart from his will (Q and A #1).  Historically, our denomination has had the theological imagination to creatively engage a God who reveals himself through history, speaks through general revelation, and whose nature is reflected in and through his image bearing human beings.

What would happen if the CRC acted on what we say we believe?

We believe that Jesus resurrected from the dead and that he breathed his eye opening, ear clearing Spirit upon us. We believe that all things were made through him (John 1:1-3), are held together in him (Col. 1:15-23) and, even now, are being made new by him (Rev. 21:5).  We believe that Jesus is now enthroned, seated at the right hand of God, and is the ruler over all things. Our view of the Lordship of Jesus Christ is cosmic in its proportions; and it impacts everything.

Because of this way of viewing the world, we can watch a powerfully redemptive Academy Award winning movie like Crash and know that its truth was authored by his Spirit, as though the film were a parable.  We can experience the ecstasy of victory at an NFL playoff game, and understand that the splendour of that moment is a foretaste of a communal glory we’ll one day know perfectly. We can observe the scientific world as it builds a Large Hadron Collider, and see this huge science experiment as a kind of icon, revealing the mind of the Jesus who created the universe in the first place. We can take note of how an accountant feels about the just-rightness of financial reconciliation, of how a mechanic experiences the satisfaction of automotive restoration, or of how an entrepreneur takes ‘aha’ delight in creating something out of nothing, and know that it’s the Spirit of Jesus Christ who has sponsored the truth and goodness inherent in these created things.

More than that; in all of these commonly gracious creational places, we can experience the real time, right now, personal, revelatory presence of Jesus Christ.

Jesus created the CRC church the way he did; with its unique creation embracing, providential and sovereign worldview. What if he did this so that we could lead the Church in recognizing that he is revealing himself everywhere?

Sometimes I wonder if this is exactly what he’s doing at New Hope CRC here in Calgary. Commenting on our church’s two book vision (via a book endorsement), former Calvin Seminary president, Neal Plantinga, wrote, “Its center is a bright, bold vision of a God who is speaking to us everywhere, every day, through every sense.  Van Sloten’s cry of the heart is just this: in God’s name, pay attention!”

I think now is the time for the CRC to stand up and say, “Pay attention!”

And I think this cry needs to come from all of our pulpits; the seminary offering a whole new set of courses exploring creational exegesis, theology and preaching, church pastors actively reading and preaching both of God’s revelatory books, our academic institutions continuing to do what they already do but, for the first time ever, seeing their graduates enthusiastically participate in the church as co-exegetes in the preacherhood of all believers (engineering grads helping write engineering sermons, science grads developing science discipleship courses, artists leading the worship arts), denominational agencies retooling all that they do; Home Missions, Back to God, CRWRC, Faith Alive, World Missions, helping churches engage a God who’s already out there, moving and speaking in the world.

What if this is the idea around which both established and new churches can come?

Not some abstract theological construct or worldview, but the here and now belief that Jesus really does mean for us to know and experience him in all things – at work, in the theatre, on the field, in the lab, in our relationships – all the time!  Imagine a church filled with people whose every moment is attuned to the presence and glory of God.  This would be attractive.  This would be meaningful.  This would grow God’s church.

Increasingly, I am convinced that God has always meant for his followers to know him via the reading of both of his books.  I think these books are meant to co-illumine one another – shine light on each other -  creation saying what only creation can uniquely say alongside the bible saying what only the bible can uniquely say. I believe that we can only know God fully when we engage the whole counsel of his revelation.  If the new earth is going to be a place where we know God in all things – including our work, relationships, and in city living (Is. 65:17-25, Rev. 22)  - then I think we ought to be actively living into, and preparing for, that day now.

This way of engaging God’s world will bring a new humility to the church (as we learn to listen and follow, instead of dictate and prescribe), along with a powerful sense of cultural relevance. Imagine CRC churches everywhere donning the spectacles of the scriptures (Calvin), coming alongside an unbelieving world and pointing out God’s creational presence and truth in all things, showing that the beauty, meaning, significance and truth that is so inspiring in creation has a Maker, an Author and a Redeemer.

Context

Over the past few decades the CRC has tried to become an outreaching church via the implementation of many non-indigenous, ‘evangelical’ methodologies.  And it hasn’t worked. Our Reformed identity has faded, the denomination’s numbers have dropped and our young adults are disappearing fast. Gaps have grown between church plants, established churches and the seminary.

I think one of the reasons this is happening is that our way of reaching out to the world is not commensurate with who we are. It doesn’t leave enough room for how sovereign our view of God is. Reading and responding to what the Sprit of Jesus Christ is already speaking and doing in the world – does!

The Holy Spirit is already moving in powerfully missional ways throughout God’s world.  We already have the theology to see and engage these holy movements.  What we need to do now is actively engage and live into what we already believe.

Are you meant to know God through your giving?  In the actual giving moment; meet him, experience his presence, engage his character, co-give with him?

I’ve preached on giving many times before, each time via a similar process;

1. Source the relevant bible texts on the topic.

2. Read, study and wrestle with them until they whisper their truths.

3. Try to craft those truths into some kind of coherent sermon.

I want to approach the topic differently this week, starting with what actually happens in the giving moment (believing God is very much present and at work at the time).  And this is where I could use some ‘preacherhood of all believers’ help.  Here are my exegetical questions;

“If you could put words around the ‘just right’ feeling you feel in the moment of giving, what would they be?  What do you love about giving?”

If you have any thoughts please comment.

1. Preach a sermon on neurons, get to know a brain scientist in the process, and wait for her to send you an email saying, “Hey John, you should look at this cool science my husband does – Epigenetics!”

2. When you get the part of her email that says, “Scientists have irrefutably shown that Darwin wasn’t quite correct… your environment can change your genes, and these changes are heritable,” be reminded of that part of the second commandment that says, “…to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me.”

3. Think, “hey, that’ll preach!”

4. Apply for a $30,000. grant from the John Templeton foundation to preach 5 sermons on faith and science and recieve grant monies to take the entire church to your city’s new science centre so that you can preach the epigenetics sermon there and then gift the congregation with time to explore the world of science for themselves.

5. Meet with the epigenetics scientist and a university science grad several times and go to school on them.

6. Take the risk and say, “As I’ve engaged the epigenetics text, this is the bible passage that comes to mind for me… what do you think?”

7. Hear the scientist excitedly say, “That would be perfect actually.”

8. Make plans to preach (and prepare) the sermon in two parts; 10 minutes on Epigenetics 101, and 25 minutes as a theological response.

9. Meet together the day before preaching and ‘preach each other’s part’ to each other. Get excited about the perfect fit. Assuage the scientist’s anxiety about being too sciency. Calm the pastor’s nerves about communicating the science correctly.

10. Show up at the science centre with a crowd that is twice the size of a normal Sunday service, and preach Christ; through the book of epigenetics and the book of the bible. Pray for epiphanies to happen.

(11. Postscript: And here’s how the message turned out – http://vimeo.com/35423943 )

Every once in a while I get a glimpse of the parable that is my life.

Last night, over dinner, I had a minor clash with my oldest son.  I said something dumb and he shot back with a pretty harsh response (what we call a Bilbo moment – you know, like how Bilbo violently reacted when Frodo wouldn’t let him hold the ring again).  I tried to bring the matter up after dinner, but to no avail.  Tom wasn’t interested.  Normally in the past I would have pushed things, tried to assert my parental authority, force the issue out into the open.  I knew what the problem was; often I try to over control people and situations, and don’t give others enough time, space or respect. I do it way too much, and I wanted to talk with Tom so that I could say sorry (and also, to be honest, to double check and see if I still had my son’s respect).

Uncharacteristically I decided to let it go.  No use trying to push matters when it comes to dealing with your control issues.

So this morning we resolved the matter another way. First I offered to drive Tom to school (with no intent whatsoever of talking about things).  Then, en route, we listen to a radio news story about greenhouse gas emissions, oil-sands and pipelines. I turned to Tom and said, “I don’t disagree with global warming, nor do I disagree with the fact that human activity is contributing to it. What I struggle with is the frantic response that presupposes that God hasn’t built any plasticity into this world. A friend just told me about a PBS program that talked about how the earth has adapted to significant sun temperature increases over the past 10,000 years. Apparently the earth has some capacity to adapt.”  The implication I was making was that, perhaps God has a few creational safety mechanisms built into the system. So, have some faith people!

Tom responded, “I think this new class I’m about to start is going to deal with these kinds of issues.” To which I said, “Well then you can tell your prof that your dad was talking to guy who watched a PBS special….”   We both laughed figuring I was probably full of it.  And then I knew we were OK;  he still loves and respects his dad.

An hour later I got a text from Tom (while he was still in his new class),

(TOM)  “Today I learned how the earth adapts to the brighter sun.”

(ME)  “Of course you did. I adapt to a brighter son all the time!  : )  Love.”

(TOM) “Love”

Every once in a while you preach a sermon and are struck by it’s weight. Last Sunday I felt that …  this morning I still feel that.

My text was Colossians 1:15-20.  The passage speaks of the supremacy of Christ in both creation and the church.  The phrase that continues to weigh on me is, “all things have been created through him and for him.”  All things are made through Christ and for Christ.

The point I made in the message was that, if everything is made through Christ, we’re going to have to read/engage all things in order to fully understand who he is. Everything there is to know about who Jesus is will only be known as we read the whole universe (which was made through him – Hebrews 1:2).  It’s takes a whole universe to give full expression to who Jesus is.  And it will take the knowledge of every square inch of the universe’s wisdom, beauty and truth to give Christ the glory, honour and praise due his name.  Only a word as big as the universe is big enough to elicit enough praise to affirm just how much everything is for him.  Anyways, it all just kind of blew me away.

Through him and for him… five words that seem to hold it all when it comes to defining what we’re doing here at New Hope Church.  Everything I am and do comes as a gift from him. It’s all made through him, co-created with him, and worshipfully for him.

And our calling is to live in the mystical space between through and for.  I feel like I need to take on a new spiritual discipline; with every breath, at every task, with all my heart and soul, have the words ‘through you and for you’ running through all of my being.

Here’s the message if you’re interested.

Shot these before the snow flew…

A few quick shots of ice on the edge of the river near Elbow Falls.

Van Gogh once wrote, “I prefer painting people’s eyes to cathedrals, for there is something in the eyes that is not in the cathedral, however solemn and imposing the latter may be – a human soul, be it that of a poor beggar or of a street walker, is more interesting to me.”

I will never forget the day I experienced Van Gogh’s truth for myself.

I had just parked my car on the top floor of a downtown parking garage, donned my Harry Rosen suit jacket, grabbed my brief case and was headed for the stairs (I was working as Director of Development for a downtown London, Ontario office building project at the time).

As I entered the stairwell I ran into a problem.  A disheveled old street person was standing in the middle of the top step…  blocking my way. He looked terrible and smelled even worse. I had the sense he’d slept there that night.

“I’ve got to get by him,” I thought.  But when I asked him to move, he was unresponsive; totally incoherent.

“But I’ve got to get to work.”  So I held my breath, edged my way along the stairwell’s concrete wall and squeezed by him.  Clear.  When I got down to the first landing I took one last look at the poor guy.  He was teetering so badly I thought he was going to take a nosedive.

Then I faced a moment of truth. “I’ve got to get to work, I’ve got things to do… but if I leave guy in this predicament he’s going kill himself.”

“I need to help him.”  But there was no way I wanted to walk him down six floors… and I certainly wasn’t going to carry him.  So I retraced my steps, edged by him again, and went and got my car.

After opening the passenger door (and window), I helped him in, shut the door and then got into the driver’s side. No sooner had I started heading toward the down ramp, the old guy fell over into my lap! I hit the brakes.  “How am I going to do this?” I thought.  I came up with a plan.

Gingerly I lifted his head up and then pushed him over toward the passenger door window.  Propping him up with my right arm I headed toward the down ramp.  It was one of those spiral ones.  So I figured that if I took it real fast the centrifugal force would keep his body upright and away from me.  It worked.

When we got to the ground floor, my conscience hit me again and I thought that the least I could do was give the guy a ride home.  So I paid the $12. fixed day rate for my five minute stay and headed out onto the street.

The moment we hit the pavement the old man wakes up. Incredibly, he’s now lucid and able to carry on a conversation.  I asked him what his name was.

“Wendell Hathaway,” he replied.

“Where you from Wendell?”

“Out east.”

“What brought you to London?”

“Work… I used to work in construction.”

“Do you have any family?”

“Used to…  I was married…  and I also have two kids.”

There was a 30 second pause.  “A wife and two kids” I thought, “and now this heartbreaking life?  How tragic.”

We talked a bit more about his life; where he grew up, when he got married and how his kids were baptized in the Catholic church.

“Hey Wendell, it’s starting to rain, where do you live, I’ll drive you home.”

“I live at the men’s mission just down the street.”

“Ok, I’ll take you there…”

A few minutes later we pulled into the mission parking lot and I said my goodbyes.  But then, out of nowhere, Wendell decided he doesn’t want to get out of the car.  He mumbled something about how hated living at the mission.  I could tell he hated his life.

But I’ve got to get back to work.

So I got out of the car, went to his door and tried to help him out. But, like a little kid refusing to budge, he wouldn’t move.  After a few minutes of pleading he eventually fell out of the car, onto the asphalt parking lot, and started crying.

By now it was raining quite heavily. My suit was getting soaked and Wendell wasn’t moving.  So I knelt down and tried to pick him up.  No luck.  So there I was, stuck, kneeling in this men’s mission parking lot, holding this street guy’s head in my arms in the pouring rain.

What a mess.  But then I looked into his eyes.

They were a piercing, deep ice blue. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed them until then.  I couldn’t stop staring.  And as I did I started to feel a deeper sense of empathy and compassion for the man. His life story started to flash in front of my eyes.  I thought about how proud his mom must have felt when she first looked into those eyes when he was a baby, about how his wife was in love with those eyes on their wedding day, and about his children proudly looked up into the eyes of their dad as he held them.

And then I started crying. This is not way things are supposed to be.

Wendell crying, me crying, and in some strange cosmic sense God crying through the rain.

It all seemed pretty hopeless, until something quite mystical happened; something I’d never experienced before or since.  As I was looking into Wendell’s eyes, there was this moment where it felt as though his eyes became transparent and I was looking into Christ’s.

For a second I lost my breath, time disappeared and every part of me trembled.  And for a moment everything was Christ.  Christ in me holding Christ in him, surrounded by a world that was mysteriously held by Christ.

Van Gogh was right. There was more glory in Wendell’s eyes that day than any cathedral could ever hold.

“Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” Jesus in Matthew 25:40, TNIV