The Gospel of Frank? This is not one of those little-known Gnostic Gospels. It was not found buried in a tomb, or translated from some monolith in Jerusalem. There will be no conspiracies about how Jesus was actually born in Alaska, or that his disciples were alcoholics. The Gospel of Frank is a forum where people are encouraged to talk openly and honestly about the Christian faith. Be Frank. That's the plan. I promise I won't be offended by your questions or comments. Please don't be offended by mine. I may sound facetious or sarcastic at times, but my intention is to generate thoughts and challenge ideas. Sometimes I'm just trying to be funny. Why not take our faith to an intellectual target range and pelt it with every weapon we have? If it’s still standing at the end, we definitely have something worth defending. If it falls or ends up full of holes and dents, we should re-examine it. Ultimately, I want to share some of the eye-opening, jaw-dropping, life-changing things that I believe the Holy Spirit has shown me. I want to challenge Christians to think clearly about their faith so they can speak with their friends and co-workers in a way that is clear and comprehensive. I want Christians to feel confident in what they believe and know exactly how to move forward. I will keep this Welcome blog on top, but the rest are listed from newest to oldest. If you are new to the site and want to follow the progression of thought, just scroll to the bottom and work your way up. Be sure to leave to comments and participate in the polls. We want to hear from you. Let's watch Faith and Frank get married.
Tyrant or Pushover?
It seems honorable and scriptural and logical and natural to attribute all things to the sovereign will of God. How can any created thing exert authority over its creator? How can anything in this world happen beyond His knowledge or allowance or impetus? And if we have any doubt of that, there are plenty of verses to support these assertions. However, at the same time that we affirm God's rightful place on His throne, we often act and feel otherwise, as if, despite his omnipotence and omnipresence, He could use some human or angelic help from time to time. We hold prayer vigils, as if the quantity or fervency of our prayers can change God's mind or twist His arm. Does the arm of God need twisting? Does God need to be informed? We talk of a spiritual battle, but how can there be a battle if everything happens according to plan? If nothing happens beyond God's will, Satan and his demons are servants of that will, as are our sinful actions. All things, seemingly good or evil, work together for God's ultimate purpose. But if that is true, should we feel sorry for our sins? Should we ask forgiveness, as if our actions could be independent and contrary to His will? And if our actions are truly free, how can God be truly sovereign? Take it one step further. If we are free to sin, then my neighbor is also free to sin, which means he can come over to my house and murder my children in their beds, and maybe God won't stop him. Does God intervene in the free actions of men? Does he have a sliding scale for when He intervenes and when He doesn't? Would He allow me to lie and steal, but not murder? That's a lot of questions and conjecture. This is an issue over which the church has splintered, an issue that informs our perceptions of the character and power of God. Therefore it is an important issue, which is why we have these conversations. Let me offer a few thoughts and I will be eager to hear yours. The use of sovereignty is up to the sovereign. God has demonstrated that He can do what He wants when He wants and how He wants. He has ultimate authority over His creation. His sovereignty, however, is bound by His character. A selfish sovereign may create lesser beings to live for nothing but to ingratiate his ego. He would create servants to do his bidding, He would create an enemy with no hope of victory, and He would demand worship and confessions from fragile, error-prone beings. A selfish sovereign would control everything, allowing no true freedom to his subjects for fear of sharing glory. It would be like a man who wanted to be a successful filmmaker, so he built an army of robots to watch his film, applaud, and give rave reviews. He also programed some negative critics whom he could scold and dismantle later. Win. Win. An apathetic sovereign might create something, then become distracted and leave the creation to itself. We could have a sovereign God and also have evolution. A loving sovereign would create free creatures, both spiritual and physical, in order to have genuine relationships with them. That would allow for true rebellion, but also for true redemption. Of course this God can intervene if absolutely necessary (harden hearts, bend wills, send prophets), but generally allow men and spirits to make their own choices and deal with the consequences. There are drawbacks to such a system---senseless deaths, abuse, insanity, corrupt governments, unspeakable atrocities---but also great advantages. Is freedom worth the price we pay? Or is freedom an illusion?
Don't Fool Yourself
There was a time when I was obsessed with learning how to walk by the Spirit. If I felt a compulsion or heard a voice in my head, I would analyze it, trying to determine if it was God, a lack of sleep, guilt, or something genetic at work. I didn't trust myself. And I didn't trust anyone else. This was my personal challenge: If the Holy Spirit was removed from my life, how much of it would have to change. Without Him, I could still read my Bible. I could still pray. I could still have fellowship with believers. I could still listen to pastors and teachers. I could still serve my community. I realized that there was very little, if anything, in my Christianity that required an indwelling Holy Spirit. Apparently, the deposit Jesus left that would "lead me into all truth" was fairly inconsequential. As I continued to explore my need for God's Spirit, I came across certain barriers in my quest for "absolute truth," only one of which I will mention here. Perhaps you can think of others. I call it "God Talk." I saw it a lot in college: "I was so tired last night, but I knew I had to finish my paper, so I prayed and just kept typing and the Lord got me through it." But what about the millions of other students that accomplished the same thing with a lot of coffee and face slapping? Parents? "I needed sleep, but the kids were sniffing and calling for me all night so I gave them a little Benadryl and, thank God, they slept through the night." But John . . . we are encouraged to "acknowledge Him in all our ways," right? We should be giving glory to Him for everything that happens in our lives, for better or for worse. But what if it isn't Him? I guess we could argue that everything is from Him because we are His children and He loves us, and He will never leave us. If we hold that perspective, we will probably find ourselves saying things like "God is trying to teach me patience" when we are feeling impatient, or "God is good," once we've had our morning coffee, or "God is testing me" when things are not going well. Sometimes that might be true. Other times not. Does it matter to you? The Greeks attributed every natural event to the activity of their gods. But those gods were not real. Our God is. How often do we treat God like one of these Greek gods? Does it give us a sense of security to attribute everything in our lives to Him? Or should we? What if God is not responsible for keeping you awake while you write your paper? What if God did not put your children to sleep because he knew you needed it? What if God did not open up that parking spot at the last second because he knew you were in a time crunch? Maybe it just opened up like it did for that Buddhist in the car in front of you, or that Agnostic in the red Jeep. How do you feel about "God Talk"?
Dismembered?
I worked at a Presbyterian church for seven years. About halfway through my time there, the pastor took me to dinner and explained that the elder board was bothered by the fact that my wife and I had never shown an interest in becoming members. Becoming a member of a church never sat well with me, though I was never forced to voice my misgivings until faced with the direct question from my pastor. I answered something like this: "I am already a member of Christ's body, which means that I am already committed to this church and every other church that believes and calls Him Lord. What benefit would it be to go to classes and take vows of commitment to a specific faction of that body? This is not like marriage. I may be called to move to another church. I may not agree to all of the Presbyterian creeds, and even if I did, what if, in time, I came to believe something different than I vowed to believe? Would I have to retract my vows?" When I asked him why membership was so important, his answer was something like this: "It makes the commitment more palpable to the congregation. They feel more devoted to the ministry and mission of the church. They are more willing to serve. They are more willing to tithe regularly. It is not as easy for them to just leave." I understood his point, but in the back of my mind I was thinking that church membership is not like baptism or communion---scriptural mandates---but something that gives the leadership an idea of who they can depend on for tithing and service. It helps to give an individual church stability. That all seems good from a practical standpoint, but what about from a spiritual standpoint? Do we see the church as a spiritual organism, a body of millions connected to a single head (Christ) through a central nervous system (the Holy Spirit). Or are we divided into self-sustaining service organizations of like-mindedness (churches of various denominations)? Or both? How do you feel about this?
