Who Does God Say I Am? | Chosen: Handpicked from the Reject Pile

Aaron Friesen January 31, 2025

This week we are looking back at a blog post from January 2024. It is good to be reminded to look for who God says we are. God doesn’t see things the way we do. 1Samuel 16:7 says, “But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or at his physical stature, because I have refused him. For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

This past Advent season, I spent a lot of time thinking about how God chooses to use people and places and things that humans rejected for one reason or another. This is a major theme in the Gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus. Bethlehem was considered the least of the towns in Judea. A stable would have been considered one of the least desirable places for travelers to stay the night in Bethlehem. A manger in a stable was a place for animals to feed, not people to sleep. Rural shepherds were not well educated and likely very poor - surely people unfit to welcome the Messiah into the world. Magi were foreigners who studied the sky and not the Hebrew Scriptures. Mary and Joseph were from the town of Nazareth that we are told had a reputation for producing nothing good.

In 2019, I got to go on a week-long walk with my wife, Heather, on an ancient path in Ireland. On our walk we passed by many very old walls, churches and sacred sites that had been carefully crafted out of stone. Imagine the work that went into building such a thing that is still standing over a thousand years later. Skilled masons get a pile of rocks from the ground nearby or a quarry and they begin sorting. Most of the stones can be used somewhere in the project, but some are just too oddly shaped, broken, or fragile to be used anywhere, and so they get sorted into a reject pile. Now imagine that somebody else comes to the build site and starts looking through the pile of rejected rocks for his own project. One of the masons says, “You’re not gonna find anything good in there,” but he keeps looking and inspecting anyway. He ends up picking up one of the discarded stones and pronounces, “This is it! This one will be the cornerstone.”

This almost absurd scenario is how Peter describes the ministry of Jesus. Quoting from Psalm 118, Peter says that Jesus is the stone that the builders rejected, and that this rejected stone has become the most important stone of all: the cornerstone (1 Peter 2:7). How can this be? Apparently, God knows something we don’t when it comes to choosing people. God chooses people based on a different and better system of evaluation, and this is what the prophet Isaiah foretold the Messiah would do (Isaiah 11:3-4). Because God’s way of evaluating is so different, God often ends up choosing people that others have sidelined or pushed out to the margins or ignored. Peter (the one that Jesus renamed “a rock”) goes on to say that we also are chosen in the same way that Jesus was chosen. God chooses to build a house of worship from people that others have rejected (1 Peter 2:4-5). Not only that, but God knows fully what it is like to be somebody who society or religion rejects or pushes to the side or ignores.

With all that in mind, what does it mean to be chosen by God?

First, to be chosen by God does not mean that I have checked the boxes that worldly or religious systems of performance have labeled as successful. It’s so easy for me to impose false systems of performance and success (social status, wealth, beauty, education, even religious performance) back onto God. So, before I get too excited about the amazing truth that I am chosen by God in Christ, I think I need to sit with the fact that God’s choice for me and others is based on a different kind of system of evaluation, a system that may look quite foolish or offensive to others. This is what Paul writes about in his letter to the Corinthians.

1 Corinthians 1:26-29
Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.

Second, to be chosen by God means that my purpose and identity as a human being are wrapped up in my relationship with God. I cannot expect to find true happiness or fulfillment through systems of success or performance that God, the one who chooses me, says are inappropriate or invalid. This seems to be an important part of the journey of all disciples - stepping out of wrong systems of evaluation and stepping fully into God’s way of evaluating people and places and situations. This is how Jesus was happily and wholeheartedly able to serve others even in the face of rejection. His identity was grounded in God’s priorities and the things that God said really mattered. We can’t do this move on our own, but we can with the help of the Holy Spirit in community.

Third, to be chosen by God means that I am bound to others through the love and grace of our common creator. The one who created me gets to have the final say about my value and worth and the value and worth of others. No other voice or system or person gets to do that. Humans often reject people and places because they don’t measure up in our shallow and frivolous categories of social status or religious performance. But, thankfully, God chooses differently. Sometimes, God chooses what I would reject in myself and others. Sometimes God looks at people that I would turn away from in disgust? or pass by without a second thought and says, “Prepare to be offended! That’s just what I need and want.” As I sit with and learn to accept my being chosen by God, I must also sit with and learn to accept God’s choice of others. I must allow the vast river of God’s grace and love for the world to erode away all the other ways that I might judge myself and others.

Questions for reflection:

How does God choose differently than me?
When I think about the truth that I am chosen by God, do I also think about that choice being based on God’s very different kind of system of evaluation?
Who are those people that I tend to overlook or mentally place in the reject pile and label as people whom God cannot use?
How can people on the margins of society teach me about God’s priorities and God’s values?
How have I made poor assumptions about God’s choice or rejection of myself or others?

About the Author

Aaron is a passionate seeker of God and truth, and he enjoys encouraging others in their own pursuits of the same. He especially likes to think about how God is at work in the most ordinary and mundane aspects of our existence. He loves going on adventures to new places with his wife, Heather, and four kids and his perfect day would involve an excellent cup of coffee (or two!), a hike to somewhere beautiful and serene, and some good conversation over a pint at a warm pub. He currently serves as an adjunct instructor at Portland Seminary and co-leads the CitySalt Kids’ Ministry along with his wife, Heather.

Who is Our Rock? | Jesus: A Rock to Build On or Stumble Over?

Aaron Friesen November 15, 2024

Where do I find stability in life? How do I build a secure and prosperous future for myself and my family? When everything around me seems shaky and uncertain, how can I find something trustworthy and reliable to guide my decisions? These are primal questions to which we all seek answers, and the conclusions we come to about these questions have a snowball effect in our lives. Not having answers to these questions can be a source of great anxiety and fear. Answers that seem unrealistic or unattainable can bring depression, hopelessness and despair.

For a Christian, the obvious answer to these questions is Jesus. Jesus is our rock and our firm foundation. He is the one upon which we build a secure future. How many songs that we sing at church declare this truth?

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand…

Jesus, you’re my firm foundation,
I know I can stand secure…

Christ is my firm foundation,
The Rock on which I stand…

But, what does this mean that Jesus is my Rock? For most of my life, when I’ve sung these kinds of songs at church, I’ve tended to think of this “Rock” and the “Firm Foundation” as referring to a confession of faith in Christ. My profession of faith in Christ makes my present and future life secure in Him. While I believe that is a true statement, I have come to realize that it only captures one part of what is a dynamic, lengthy and scary process of building and rebuilding to find stability on the Rock of Jesus Christ.

While a confession of faith is a critically important starting point, it is just that: a starting point. And this important starting point cannot be separated from the actions that naturally flow out of a sincere confession. The confession of Jesus as Messiah is the firmest foundation upon which I can start to build, but it is the actions that naturally flow out of that confession that will make my life strong and durable over the long haul.

Jesus was very clear about this. At the end of the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 7, Jesus told a short parable about two kinds of builders in life. One was wise, and the other was foolish. The difference between the wise and foolish builders was not that one listened to Jesus and the other did not. They both listened, but it was the wise builder who listened and put into practice what Jesus taught. Strength, security and stability in life comes to those who do their best to put into practice the things that Jesus says to do. Stability is found in the doing, not the hearing or the thinking or even the speaking.

This distinction between words and actions wouldn’t be much of an issue for me except that so many of Jesus’s teachings counter ways in which I tend to think that I will build a secure future for myself.

The disciple, Peter, is a perfect illustration of this struggle. In Matthew 16, Jesus changed Peter’s name from Simon, which means “listen” or “hearing,” to Peter, which means “rock.” It is Peter’s confession of faith in Jesus as “the Messiah, the Son of the living God (Matthew 16:16)” that leads Jesus to change Peter’s name. Upon changing his name, Jesus uses a play on words to make a prophetic statement about Peter’s future: “Upon this rock I will build my church.” Peter’s confession is the rock. His confession of Jesus as Messiah and Lord is a starting point upon which Jesus can build a strong church. But, it is only a starting point. Peter immediately struggles to follow through on his confession. In the very next exchange, Jesus tells his disciples about how he must go to Jerusalem and suffer and die, and Peter responds by rebuking Jesus: “No way! May it never be!” Peter can’t understand how suffering and death could possibly be the will of God for the Messiah. Peter’s rebuke leads Jesus to call him another kind of rock: a stumbling block! One minute Peter is the strong rock upon which the church is built. The next he is a rock that is aligned with Satan and getting in the way of Jesus’s mission and calling. Can you relate to this? I sure can!

The importance of actions that align with words is profoundly illustrated in the exchange between Peter and Jesus. A confession of faith in Christ only produces stability in our lives over the long haul as we do our best to adjust and make changes to align our lives to Jesus, even when His way seems odd or strange or unsettling to us. This is the true cost of discipleship – learning to submit our usual ways of seeking security and stability for ourselves (through things like hoarding possessions, military power, social position, and economic independence) to God’s ways (vulnerability, peacekeeping, servanthood, and generosity). It is through a willingness and commitment to take simple, daily actions consistent with those principles that Jesus taught and lived, even when they might seem like utter foolishness and ”a stumbling block” on the path of wise living (1 Cor 1:20-25), that makes Jesus a firm foundation in the inevitable storms of our lives.

About the Author

Living in Our Moments | Shepherding the Mistiness of Life

Aaron Friesen September 27, 2024

In June, my son and I got to go on a backpacking adventure along the coastline of northern California. On the drive down to our starting point, we got to stop in an old growth Redwood grove outside of Crescent City for lunch. A posted sign told us that the oldest tree in the grove was well over 2,000 years old! Standing next to something that big that has been alive on this earth for that long had a way of putting my small human life into perspective. I found the experience of my smallness and the tree’s largeness strangely grounding. It was both awe inspiring and comforting to experience the cool shade and woody smells that originated from a seed that germinated and took root in this spot in the dirt even before Jesus Christ walked the earth. It calmed my restless spirit to know that it had been growing ever since. Through all the wars, explorations, colonizing, empires, fires, earthquakes, and technological advances of the last two millennia, this tree had found enough water, sunlight, nutrients, oxygen and space to keep living and keep growing.

As we packed up our lunch stuff and left the grove that afternoon, I wondered to myself why something that made me feel so small could also make me feel so secure and at peace within myself. I think it is because the tree put me in my place; the place God intended for me all along as a human being. Touching the bark layers of a 2,000-year-old organism dissolved some of the unspoken (and unnatural) desires and expectations for grandiosity, transcendence and influence that I cling to for dear life, burdens which God never intended for me or anybody else to carry. Somehow, that simple encounter with the tree helped to redirect my attention from all the things I was not doing by being gone on this trip, to being truly present with my son and God’s wild creation for the remainder of our time together.

The wisdom that this tree bark spoke to me that afternoon echoes the wisdom spoken by the writer of Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes 2:24-26 in the NIV translation says this:

A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment? To the person who pleases him, God gives wisdom, knowledge and happiness, but to the sinner he gives the task of gathering and storing up wealth to hand it over to the one who pleases God. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

The word that the NIV translates as “meaningless” is the Hebrew word hebel. It literally means “mist” or “vapor.” It is like foggy breath on a cold day that disappears in just a few seconds. This is a very important word in the Book of Ecclesiastes, and translating the word as “meaningless” makes many of the passages in Ecclesiastes take on a very different meaning than what I think was likely intended by the author. The writer was not intending to convey the idea that life is pointless and without meaning, but that life is short and fleeting. The writer is trying to put human beings in their place (their God-given place!), by confronting them with the reality of the shortness of life “under the sun” and the fact that there is much about life (including the number of our years, our legacy, and our wealth) that we cannot control, and so it’s best to receive it all as a gracious gift from God.

In reminding the wise reader of the fleetingness and shortness of human life, the writer is not intending to be a downer, but a reality check that encourages one to bask in and savor the simple pleasures of life – things like a hard day’s work, a loving spouse, friendship, laughter, yummy food and drink, and a good night’s sleep.

In his book, How to Inhabit Time, James K. A. Smith summarizes the wisdom that the author of Ecclesiastes gives us in the face of our not so human desires to want to transcend or control history and bend it to our will:

“This is not a counsel of despair or resignation but rather an invitation to reframe expectations so that I can ‘enjoy’ what’s before me, who is with me, fleeting as their presence might be. The question isn’t whether we can escape this condition but how we will receive our mortality, how we will shepherd what’s fleeting yet given.”(1)

That’s what that old Redwood tree was helping me to remember- to consider my mortality in a good way so that I would shepherd the misty moments right in front of me as a wonderful and precious gift from our Creator.

(1) James K. A. Smith, How to Inhabit Time: Understanding the Past, Facing the Future, Living Faithfully Now (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2022), 103.

About the Author

Inspiration and Revelation | Biblical Inspiration through Artistic Realism: Henry Ossawa Tanner

Aaron Friesen July 5, 2024

I recently discovered the art of Henry Ossawa Tanner, and I’ve found his paintings of biblical scenes to be spiritually inspiring and deeply moving. Tanner is known as the first African-American artist to gain international acclaim and fame. He was born in 1859. His father was a seminary educated bishop in the African Methodist Episcopal Church, and his mother was born into slavery and sent north to Pittsburgh by her mother in the Underground Railroad. Tanner discovered a love for art at an early age, and he enrolled as the only black student at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts in 1879. Eventually, he moved to Paris and studied under well-known artists at the famous Académie Julian. Unlike in the United States, he found no racial barriers to people recognizing and appreciating his artistic skills in Paris, so he made it his home for the rest of his life. In the 1890s, Tanner began painting biblical and religious scenes. Two of these, Daniel in the Lion’s Den (1896) and The Resurrection of Lazarus (1897), won numerous awards and accolades by prestigious voices in the Parisian art community.

Tanner painted most of his religious and biblical scenes in the artistic genre known as Realism. It is the realistic expressions, depictions, and subtle details that Tanner incorporates in his paintings of biblical scenes that have captivated me. His paintings draw me into the emotions, drama and feelings that accompany stories that have become all too familiar. As I’m drawn into these realistic aspects of the story, I find intersections with my own story and the stories in the Bible come alive to me in new ways. Through these story connections, the Holy Spirit reveals truths to me that I think would be hard for me to know otherwise.

Below are a couple paintings from Tanner that I’ve found inspiring. I encourage you to look through the library of his paintings when you have the time and see what stands out to you (https://www.wikiart.org/en/henry-ossawa-tanner/all-works).

“Christ Learning to Read” (1914)

This painting is very similar to a painting Tanner did in 1910 that he titled “Christ and His Mother Studying the Scriptures.” Tanner used his own caucasian wife and his biracial son as models for Mary and Jesus in the painting. The title makes it clear that Tanner wanted to humanize Jesus by focusing on his need to be taught by his mother. Jesus helps me to read the scriptures, but at one point in time he needed help from his own mom to learn how to read. As I reflect on this painting, I am reminded that Jesus was well acquainted with the human struggle to learn certain things, and he knows firsthand the common need we all have for patient teachers to guide us in the process of learning.

“Jesus and Nicodemus” (1899)

Tanner took numerous trips to the Holy Land in order to study the places, the culture and the people described in the biblical stories. This detail comes through in the rooftop landscape background of the painting. The facial expressions are particularly captivating to me. The status of Jesus as a young, controversial rabbi comes through as well as the humility required of Nicodemus as a sagely Pharisee to come to Jesus at night with his questions. As I reflect on this painting, I am inspired to learn from Jesus as my rabbi, but I’m also reminded that many things that a rabbi shares with his students, even the most learned and wise, they will not easily understand.

About the Author

Like a Child | God Wants Kids Who Shout

Aaron Friesen February 23, 2024

Children are a picture of hope, joy, optimism and faith. Jesus invites us to reconnect with the child inside of us as we prepare to approach him, in a posture of trust and complete dependence. Join the CitySalt blog team as we consider how to take on the attributes of a child and rediscover these inner parts of ourselves.

As a parent of four, I often crave quiet. I sometimes get tired of all the noise that inevitably accompanies a house full of children. But God isn’t always on my side when it comes to noise. Sure, God is sometimes the God of silence and a still small voice, but at other times it seems God wants some shouting and yelling, even when the adults want quiet.

The Gospel of Matthew tells us that when Jesus finally arrived in Jerusalem and entered the temple, the kids started shouting, and the teachers who were there got very angry about what they were yelling.

Matthew 21:12-17 (NIV)
Jesus entered the temple courts and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. 13 “It is written,” he said to them, “‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it ‘a den of robbers.’”

14 The blind and the lame came to him at the temple, and he healed them. 15 But when the chief priests and the teachers of the law saw the wonderful things he did and the children shouting in the temple courts, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they were indignant.

16 “Do you hear what these children are saying?” they asked him.
“Yes,” replied Jesus, “have you never read,
“‘From the lips of children and infants
you, Lord, have called forth your praise’?”

17 And he left them and went out of the city to Bethany, where he spent the night.

Jesus’ presence in the temple that day was a serious disruption of the normal worship rituals as he turned over tables full of money, knocked over benches full of birds, and cured the blind and lame. Can you imagine the sounds: crashing furniture, coins hitting the stone floor, birds flapping and squawking, and the joyous yells of people being healed from lifelong ailments? Added to this cacophony were the shouts of children saying, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” It must have been quite the commotion!

The religious leaders in the temple didn’t like the children shouting in this way, and they expected Jesus to do something about it. Whether in the temple of Jesus’ day or in the church of our day, children are often told to be quiet in religious spaces. But not Jesus. Instead of telling the children to be quiet, Jesus silenced the religious leaders. He told them that it is the children who have it right. Far from inappropriate, their shouts of praises are what this moment demanded.

The religious leaders and the children are both witnessing the same thing. Jesus is doing “wonderful things (v.15).” Yet it is only the children who know how to respond appropriately. They are the ones in the story who know better. How can that be? I have a few ideas…

Children are ready to celebrate good things.
You don’t have to teach a child to celebrate or shout. You don’t have to teach a child to sing or dance. You have to teach them not to. Adults help children learn cultural rules about when and how it is appropriate to celebrate, but when cultural rules are getting in the way of real authentic celebrations, it is often the kids who are the first to challenge the rules. This is what was happening in the temple. Jesus was healing people who needed healing. He was also exposing systems that were taking advantage of people. The children could recognize that this was a moment to celebrate, and regardless of what the adults were doing they were ready to shout “Hosanna” in the temple at the top of their lungs.
Children are sensitive to unfair power structures.
Children often seem distracted or unaware of what is going on around them. As a dad, I’ve done my share of telling my kids to listen up and pay attention. The truth, however, is that children are quite aware and attentive to many things, just not the things that I want. One thing that children seem to be hyper aware of are systems or situations that are unjust or unfair. Children are aware of their dependence on adults for the things that they need, and because of that they are also very aware of how systems of power are working or not working for themselves and others. Children are especially good at exposing rules that aren’t really working the way they were intended. When power structures hurt or neglect other people or treat some people unfairly, it is often children who will be quick to notice and to want to do something about it. I wonder if that is one of the reasons the children shouted in the temple. Perhaps they were sensitive to those who were not being taken care of in the current system, and they were hopeful that Jesus was going to do something about it. They were right!
Children ask lots of questions.
Children, by nature, are extremely open and flexible in how they process the world around them. That is how they learn so much so fast. They are full of questions and curiosity about the things that they don’t understand, and they are constantly assimilating new information. I can distinctly remember all four of my kids going through a phase where they asked “Why?” all the time about everything. As annoying as that might have been at times, it is one of the great gifts that children give adults: a moment to stop and ask why about our unquestioned habits. Through their questions, children often reveal underlying goals and hidden motives, inconsistencies, and hypocrisy. I wonder if this natural proclivity to ask questions and to seek out better answers helped the children in the temple to be excited about the new things that Jesus was bringing in a way that the religious authorities were not.

If God’s kingdom is about letting God’s light shine in the dark places of our lives to help us see things that need to change; if God’s kingdom is about being open to the new things that God wants to do in us and through us to make the world better; if God’s kingdom is about stopping to celebrate goodness wherever it is found; if God’s kingdom is about all these things, then is it any wonder that Jesus placed a child in their midst and said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3, NIV)

About the Author

Who Does God Say I Am? | Chosen: Handpicked from the Reject Pile

Aaron Friesen January 12, 2024

With all that in mind, what does it mean to be chosen by God?

Questions for reflection:

How does God choose differently than me?
When I think about the truth that I am chosen by God, do I also think about that choice being based on God’s very different kind of system of evaluation?
Who are those people that I tend to overlook or mentally place in the reject pile and label as people whom God cannot use?
How can people on the margins of society teach me about God’s priorities and God’s values?
How have I made poor assumptions about God’s choice or rejection of myself or others?

About the Author

In the Midst of Chaos | Just Stop!

Aaron Friesen November 17, 2023

One of the big truths about the world described in the opening pages of our Bibles is that creation is ordered. The Spirit of God brooded over the waters and created life. The life that the Spirit created is vibrant, dynamic, and diverse, but it is not random or chaotic. It is ordered. We see this order communicated in various ways throughout Genesis 1-2. Clear boundaries for land and waters and animals and people are given. Cycles and seasons of light and climate are set in motion through the orbits of the planets. The various parts of creation are all governed by specific patterns, rules, logic, and rhythms that God designed.

Interestingly, the Hebrew understanding of creation as ordered by a single God was quite unique in the Ancient Near East. For the most part, ancient creation narratives understood the earth as a place of chaos that mirrored the chaos in the realm of the divine where deities often fought each other for power and control.(1) In that kind of creation, peace is fleeting, and it comes to a human only by chance or by appeasing the right deity at the right time.

In contrast, the Hebrews understood that one God, Yahweh, was over all creation, and that following this God would naturally lead to peace and wellbeing because it was a matter of aligning oneself with the great organizer of all creation. That is the logic behind the starting point for Hebrew wisdom: the fear of the Lord (Psalm 111:10; Proverbs 1:7, 9:10; Job 28:28). If wisdom is understanding and living in light of the order – patterns, rules, logic, and rhythms – in creation, then the starting point for wisdom must be respecting the One who established all that order.

Although I can see how the creation stories in Genesis reveal a depth of order and organization in all things, I have to be honest that my life usually doesn’t feel that way. This leads me to ask a question: If creation is really ordered by God, then why does my life often feel so chaotic?

One possible answer that I’ve been meditating on lately is the tendency I have to forget a very important part of the creation story. The end. The part where God rested. This is the one part of the creation story that God repeatedly told Israel to remember, and I think that is because it’s so easy for us to forget it. Walter Brueggemann says that this final part of the creation story communicates something very important about God and human beings: “God is not a workaholic. God is not a Pharaoh. God does not keep jacking up production schedules. To the contrary, God rests, confident, serene, at peace. God’s rest, moreover, bestows on creatureliness a restfulness that contradicts the ‘drivenness’ of the system of Pharaoh.”(2)

When God told Israel to “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy,” God wasn’t giving them some arbitrary worship ritual. God was helping them know how to live in the world – restfully, the way God does. God was helping Israel to get the most out of life by reminding them to deliberately stop and not produce anything. How counter-cultural is that?! When I overcommit, work too hard, fixate on production, and neglect to take times for rest and rejuvenation and relaxation, I am not imitating God. To put it another way, a god who doesn’t rest and who is always working is not the God of the Bible. That’s a god I make in my own image. Thus, the call to remember the Sabbath stands as a warning to everyone that has become accustomed to a culture of Egypt – a culture of endless work, production, and commodification – not to impose their chaos-making ways back on to God.

So, how do I find rest and peace in a world that seems so chaotic? I start with remembering to stop working. That’s much easier said than done, but here are a few simple ways that I’m trying to actively resist our culture of anxiety and remember the Sabbath.

Stop and look up.
I recently listened to a podcast on “the science of awe,” and it talked about studies that show the benefits of taking a few minutes every day to look up at the sky. Looking up at the sky, especially when so much of our time is spent looking down on screens, is an act that reminds us of our place in the world. I get my bearings – I am not what I produce. I am on a little ball floating in a massive cosmos. I am small, but I am alive. The world around me is beautiful and full of life. I am connected to it all.
Walk the dog.
A friend recently told me that they were trying to be more disciplined about taking daily walks because it was so helpful for them, and I realized I had fallen out of the habit of taking our dog, Whimsy, on long walks. I wonder if that has contributed to my feeling lately that life is so chaotic? Walking was not really considered an appropriate Sabbath activity for ancient Israel, but that makes sense in a culture where walking was the main form of transportation for most people. But, for me, walking is an excellent way for me to get back in sync with creation. Walking helps me to break away from production-oriented activities and just be present to my surroundings. It also helps me to pay attention to my body and my physical health.
Hold a leaf.
It’s Fall in Eugene right now, and that means raking lots of leaves. Leaves can seem like a nuisance as they cover our walkways and clog our gutters, but they can also be a colorful and beautiful reminder of the rhythms that God has built into creation. Leaves turn colors because the trees are preparing for winter. The creation recognizes full well that there are times for growth and production and times for rest and rejuvenation. The leaves don’t really have a choice in recognizing this. It is just a part of their genetics. But, we humans do have a choice, and taking time to stop and hold a leaf helps me remember the importance of that choice.

Craig G. Bartholomew and Ryan P. O’Dowd, Old Testament Wisdom Literature: A Theological Introduction (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2011), 41-43.
Walter Brueggemann, Sabbath as Resistance: Saying No to a Culture of Now (Louisville: WJK Press, 2014), 29-30.

About the Author

Joyous Lament | An Invitation to Honesty

Aaron Friesen September 8, 2023

Our New Blog Series, Joyous Lament

In 2003, I took a class on the Book of Psalms at Fuller Seminary. That class radically altered how I think about prayer and how I relate to God. The professor presented us with a typology for understanding different kinds of psalms, and it was in that context that I first learned about lament psalms. I learned that laments were the most common type of psalm in the Book of Psalms, and this was a shocking revelation for me. I had always thought about the Psalms as the place where Israel recorded David’s expressive songs of praise and thanksgiving to God. I had never stopped to reflect on or consider all the places in the Psalms where the writers were questioning God, venting to God about the things going wrong in their lives, or begging God to change their circumstances.

Implicitly and explicitly I had been taught that Christians should praise and thank God no matter what was going on in their lives or in the world. Over time, this belief had created an insurmountable barrier between myself and God when I experienced other feelings. When I was feeling far away from God or disappointed by my life circumstances or angry about the pain and suffering I saw going on in the world, I believed that I needed to change those feelings before I could approach God in prayer. This proved to be a difficult, if not impossible, task. So, I just didn’t pray much when I was feeling those things. If I did pray, it was full of apologies for my feelings and then long periods of waiting and hoping for my feelings to change. Needless to say, this cycle tanked my prayer life. It also led to perpetual feelings of guilt because I could not pray as I should.

When I learned that almost half of the 150 psalms in our Bibles are laments, I was floored. How could this be!? I remember reading through the whole Book of Psalms to verify that this was the case. It was true! What was going on? At first, I think I decided these laments must have just been a way that “Old Testament people” talked to God before Jesus came. Surely, it was out of place for Christians who follow Jesus to talk to God like this. Then I learned that Jesus prayed one of these lament psalms on the cross, and I started to consider that maybe there was something deeper going on with these lament psalms that I just didn’t understand.

During this time of discovery, I also read a book by Walter Brueggemann called The Message of the Psalms. In this book, Brueggemann made the case that the people of Israel were very wise when they wrote down and collected these particular psalms. He proposed that different types of psalms were written to help the people of Israel to communicate honestly with God at various stages in their journey, and that these experiences correspond to common experiences or places in which all human beings find themselves in their faith journeys: Orientation, Disorientation and Reorientation.

Praise Psalms: Orientation

The people of Israel used the praise psalms to give voice to their experiences of life going well or as it should. These psalms celebrate the fact that the promises of God are lining up with one’s own life experience. There is a sense of orientation or congruence between the commitments that God has made and the things that one is experiencing. In praise, one confesses God’s faithfulness and righteousness that is being known now and trusted for one’s future. When life is making sense, it is honest and natural for a person of faith to praise God for it.

Lament Psalms: Disorientation

But, inevitably, something will happen that disrupts these feelings of congruence – a friend gets desperately sick; a child gets bullied at school; a loved one goes through a terrible divorce; we get fired from a job that we love. These kinds of experiences surface deeper questions, and our faith can become disoriented. What is God up to? Why has this happened? Are God’s promises really true? Has my faith or trust been misplaced?

The lament psalms were Israel’s way of expressing these feelings of disorientation to God. Israel knew that to praise and thank God when one’s soul is in distress is fake. If one does not honestly express these feelings, it will inevitably lead to a shallow relationship with God. To lament is to trust the relationship enough to honestly express the disconnects that we experience (or feel that we experience) between God’s character and commitments and the details of our lives. Lament also makes space for God to respond and address the disconnects that we experience in a concrete way. That is why most lament psalms also contain a note of hope about the future. Based on past experiences, Israel had a legitimate hope that God would intervene once again and fix whatever had gone wrong.

Thanksgiving Psalms: Re-Orientation

It may take a long time for God to answer, but when God does finally answer it changes us. We grow in our faith. We become oriented back to God again, but we are never the same. Our experiences of lament become the sites where God proves to be a trustworthy savior and healer, and so we look back with thanksgiving. These experiences of God become a story of how God’s love has truly made a difference in our lives, and these stories of God’s love then become a collective testimony of God’s faithfulness that can be passed down to future generations.

This entire process of communication and growth in our relationship with God can be seen in its raw and naked form in the Psalms. Nothing has proven more helpful for me in my own prayer life than to allow the lament Psalms to become a model for my own communication with God when life gets hard. In prayer I now share honestly about what I’m feeling, no matter how ugly it is. I verbalize the questions that I’m wrestling with. I express my doubts and my anger for what seems like God’s absence or slowness. I let God know about the things that just aren’t adding up to me.

I can tell you, time and time again God has met me in my lament. God has comforted my broken heart. God has given clarity and focus to my scattered mind and thoughts. God has wept alongside me as I have wept. God has kicked my butt when I was whining way too much. God has corrected me for being too critical of others. God has intervened in desperate situations. In all these ways, God has been helping me to write my own unique song of thanksgiving with the same refrain as these beautiful and wise songs of old: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning (Psalm 30:5).”

About the Author

The Joy of Being Human | God in the Strawberry Fields

Aaron Friesen June 30, 2023

Our New Blog Series, The Joy of Being Human

“Then God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good.” Genesis 1:31. Is there joy to be had in embracing our humanness? God calls His creation “very good” and we are created in His image. (Genesis 1:27). Join the blog team every week as each member brings you their unique perspective on the often simple joys to be had in being made human.

With jobs in education and four kids in school, our family very much looks forward to summer break. Our first family outing of the summer was picking strawberries at a local farm. To me, it is one of the most wonderful and joyous experiences to stand in a field of green and savor the sweetness of that first fresh-picked strawberry of the season. With each bite, I am full of thankfulness and joy and awe that I am able to enjoy such a simple pleasure in life.

I believe that being fully present in my enjoyment, appreciation, and gratitude for a moment like this is a sincere act of worship that pleases the heart of God. Unfortunately, it is a fairly new idea for me that such an experience could be as much an act of worship as reading my Bible or praying or listening to a sermon. For much of my life, I thought of my spirituality and connection with God as having to do with more “churchy” activities while my day-to-day activities as a human were just things to do in between the more important spiritual things. It’s been a long journey for me to realize that the whole gamut of human experience ought to be entered into as an act of loving worship directed to the God who created it all.

Jesus said that one of the two most important commands or rules that we can focus on in life is to love our neighbor as our self. One way of looking at the “as our self” part of this command is that a proper love of our neighbor is inherently connected to a proper love of ourselves. I think that loving ourselves properly (as God has created us) must include embracing and celebrating our humanity. The first pronouncement that God speaks over humanity in the Bible is that they are good. Very good (Genesis 1:31)! That means, from God’s vantage point, there is deep goodness and beauty to be celebrated in the reality of our humanness, and that goodness surely extends to the most elemental aspects of our existence as human beings.

No doubt, there is much sin and brokenness present in the world, and human beings often reflect and participate in these realities. In many ways, human beings have a tendency to work against the very goodness that God has created in the world and in them, but this does not negate the essential goodness of human life as God has designed it to function.

I think it is fascinating to read the creation stories in the Bible and think about all the aspects of human life that are present before there is any mention of sin or “the fall.”

There was sex to be enjoyed. (Genesis 1:28)
There were amazing smells to savor. (Genesis 2:12)
There were all kinds of yummy food to eat. (Genesis 1:29-30, 2:9)
There was beauty to behold. (Genesis 2:9)
There were rhythms of work and rest to observe. (Genesis 2:2, 15)
There was relational partnership and intimacy to experience. (Genesis 2:20, 24)
There was open-ended creativity to perform. (Genesis 2:19-20)

Each of these parts of our humanity can be avenues of great joy and pleasure. It has been a good exercise for me to reflect on each one of these aspects of our common humanity and what it means that God designed human life in this way. Our faith in God, the creator and designer of it all, should draw us more deeply and authentically into these joyful and pleasurable experiences of human life.

For Christians, God’s salvation is not a salvation or deliverance from our humanity, but a salvation that we enter into and experience in and through our humanity. In fact, early Christians went to great and costly lengths to defend this truth. Jesus provides a path for us not to escape our bodies into some spiritual disembodied existence, but a path to become integrated, whole, and flourishing in our humanity. That is one of the main points of the incarnation of Christ.

The Jesus we read about in the Gospels didn’t just pray prayers, preach sermons, heal people, and cast out demons. In fact, most of his thirty-three or so years on earth were spent doing other things. He fully participated in the most common and basic joys and struggles of human life. In the background of the wonderous miracles and teachings of Jesus that we read about in the Bible are simple, unpretentious, down to earth human activities. God embraced humanity by becoming one. Jesus embraced his own humanity by entering fully into the human experience with all its joys and sorrows, capacities and limitations:

Jesus washed feet. (John 13:5)
Jesus cooked breakfast. (John 20:9)
Jesus started fires (John 20:9).
Jesus sung songs. (Mark 14:26)
Jesus went to parties. (John 2:1-3)
Jesus slept on the ground. (Matthew 8:20)
Jesus hiked up mountains (Matthew 17:1)
Jesus worked with wood. (Mark 6:3)

In all these activities, Jesus was fully experiencing life as a human being and God was demonstrating to us all what it looks like to live joyfully and freely as a human being in the world that God created.

Although it is easy to focus on the negative side of all the limitations that we experience as human beings, these limitations also provide the context for great art and creativity to emerge. Pastor Erwin McManus writes about the fact that art always comes into existence through a medium that has certain limitations and boundaries. He then applies this principle to humanity: “We are a work of art, and the limitations that often lead us to conclude that we’re only human should move us to celebrate that we are in fact incredibly human… You are God’s preferred medium to express himself and reveal himself.”(1)

So, with that in mind, go enjoy a piece of shortcake with fresh picked strawberries and whipped cream on top knowing that you are somehow expressing and sharing in the goodness and joy of God the master artist.

Erwin Raphael McManus, The Artisan Soul: Crafting Your Life into a Work of Art (New York: HarperCollins, 2014), 161.

About the Author

In His Image | Gender and the Image of God

Aaron Friesen April 21, 2023

Our New Blog Series, In His Image

How often do we discover that we've "put God in a box" by how we imagine him to look, act, sound or feel? The CitySalt team will be exploring how we conceptualize and encounter God and what that says about who we are, being made in his image. Join us in envisioning new perspectives of our multifaceted God.

Genesis 1:26-27 (NRSV)
Then God said, ‘Let us make humans in our image, according to our likeness, and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over the cattle and over all the wild animals of the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.’ So God created humans in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

These words, on the opening pages of our Bibles, make a bold and unqualified statement about how human beings, and humanity as a whole, relates to God: we have been made in God’s own image! Theologians have debated for centuries the precise meaning of these words and how exactly human beings do and do not image God, but one thing is clear: these words confer upon each and every person a designation of elevated status and dignity in God’s creation. As a result, “Each human being must therefore be viewed with reverence and treated with due respect and care.”(1)

The image of God in every person opens up lines of communication and deeper understanding to us concerning the nature of God and humanity. The lines of communication go both ways. We learn about God by understanding one another as we are made in God’s image, and we learn about one another by understanding God in whose image we are made. Every person has a part of God in them for us to acknowledge, appreciate, and honor, and God has something of God’s own self to reveal to us through every unique person.

The Genesis text also makes it clear that females and males equally image God. Not only does that mean that women and men in God’s creation ought to be given equal honor, respect, and dignity, it also means that both sexes equally resemble God - they each reveal important pieces of who God is and what God is like. Although God in essence is beyond any gender, important aspects of God’s being, traits, personality and character are revealed through the being, traits, personality and character of women and men who are created in God’s image.

I have known these things to be true in theory, but for most of my adult life I’m sad (and a little embarrassed) to say that I’ve imagined God almost solely as a male. Even though the Bible and Christian tradition have given us a diversity of feminine terms, images, and metaphors by which to talk and think about God, I haven’t given these much thought. Over the past few years, with help from some amazing female theologians and writers, I’ve learned some of these images and metaphors. As a result, my imagination about and communication with God has grown and expanded in wonderful ways.

Much of the language that Scripture gives us to talk about and understand God is through metaphors. God is a rock (Deut. 32:4). God is a strong tower (Ps. 61:3). God is a sun (Ps. 84:11). God is a lion (Hosea 13:7-8). God is a potter (Is. 64:8). As with any metaphor, there are limits to the truth of metaphors that we use to talk and think about God. There are ways that God is like a rock, and ways that God is not like a rock. There are ways that God is like a lion, and ways that God is not like a lion. The power of these metaphors is not in that they communicate the fullness of who God is, but that they each may help to communicate certain qualities and characteristics of God to us.

What I’ve come to realize is that although I use many metaphors and images to talk and think about God, I’ve never really considered using female images and metaphors until recently. As a result, I think I’ve missed or neglected significant parts of God’s personality, character, and actions. Not only that, but I’ve also missed or minimized the ways in which the women in my life teach me about who God is and what God does.

Here are three feminine images or metaphors for God in the Bible that I have recently found helpful for me to consider and contemplate. When I imagine God in these ways, I also connect with women I know who have been these for me or others, and I can better see and understand God through their lives.

God is a mother. Isaiah 49:15 says, “Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.” There is something special and wonderful about the way the mothers I know remember and care for their children. It’s a powerful truth for me to contemplate that God remembers me like a mother who remembers her children. I can trust God’s care and compassion just as (or even more than) I can trust the care and compassion of my mom and the way my children trust their mom. Wow!
God is a midwife. Isaiah 66:9-10 says, “‘Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery?’ says the Lord. ‘Do I close up the womb when I bring to delivery?’ says your God.” I have never personally needed a midwife (surprise, surprise! ☺). However, I saw how my wife, Heather, was helped and supported through the birthing process by a midwife, and I find this to be a profound picture of God to meditate on at this point in life. There are new things that Heather and I want to bring into the world – desires that I think God has given us. God as a midwife comes alongside us in the mess and pain of bringing something new into the world, and She brings encouragement, guidance, and support through the whole process.
God is a seamstress. In the Garden, God acts as a seamstress, making clothes for Adam and Eve from fig leaves to help cover their nakedness and shame.(2) In Psalm 139, the psalmist says to God, “You have knit me together in my mother’s womb.” These images of God as one who sews and knits reminds me of women in my life who have been skilled in these ways. Somehow, they have the patience and vision and touch to take threads and cloths and yarn and make something good out of them. They patch holes and make new things out of old pieces of material. These are all skills that I do not have, but I have known women who do. It comforts me to know God is like them. I like to think about how God is knitting the threads of my life together into something good even though I can’t see the full picture. The process is slow, detailed, and painstaking. Sometimes it results in something beautiful, sometimes it is more functional, but I can trust the skill of the Seamstress that it will be good in the end.

David P. Gushee, The Sacredness of Human Life: Why an Ancient Biblical Vision is Key to the World’s Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 24.
I first came across this idea in Cole Arthur Riley, This Here Flesh: Spirituality, Liberation, and the Stories That Make Us (New York: Convergent, 2022), 14.

About the Author

Trusting Our Mysterious God | God’s “Endless Knowability”

Aaron Friesen February 17, 2023

I love reading mystery novels. I have since I was a kid. I enjoy the puzzle of trying to figure out who did it. In a typical mystery novel, the reader gets little pieces and glimpses of the truth along the way, and then in the last chapter the detective puts it all together and tells the illusive story of what really happened.

If following Jesus is like a mystery novel, we haven’t gotten to the last chapter.

I recently heard a pastor say, “Because Jesus came, we don’t have to wonder what God is like anymore.” I’m not so sure about this. As a Christian, I believe that God coming to earth as a baby helps to clarify many things about God. But does the incarnation of Christ remove our need to wonder about God? It seems to me that it places a great mystery (God in human flesh) at the very heart of humanity’s relationship with God. In that sense, Jesus’ coming may raise many questions about what God is like even as it answers others.

In his letter to the Corinthians, the Apostle Paul said, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known (1 Corinthians 13:12).”

Throughout his lifetime, Paul had come to know many new things about God. Ways he used to think about God were completely changed. Great mysteries were revealed to him (see Romans 16:25; 1 Corinthians 2:7; Ephesians 3:3; 1 Timothy 3:16). Yet, Paul was also convinced that the best we can ever do in this life is to see through a mirror, dimly. Paul retained a place for mystery while also believing that he could trust God and grow in his knowledge of God. How is this possible?

Mystery recognizes there is a difference between knowing something fully and not knowing it at all. Mystery is a name that we give to things or experiences that we don’t understand very well or have difficulty explaining. It occupies that in-between space where there is some degree of knowing, but it is partial and incomplete. If we don’t have any knowledge of something then it is not mysterious to us, it is completely unknown to us.

Thus, mystery has to do with the relationship between our experience and the way we make sense of or process that experience. If what we experience does not fit within our existing framework of reality, then it will be difficult for us to understand and maybe even difficult for us to describe. It is a mystery to us. But that doesn’t mean it is not true or real. It just means the logical faculties of our brain are having trouble processing it. Often, deep truths first come to our consciousness in the form of a mystery. And many things retain a quality of mystery in the face of our best efforts to understand them.

I think this is true of God. There are things we can come to know about God and God’s ways, but there will always be things about God that we don’t know, and experiences of God that we will have trouble understanding or explaining. Why? Because we are not God. Although Western culture has often been preoccupied with knowing things and trying to eliminate mystery as much as possible, those who seek to know the God who created the entire universe must become comfortable with mystery. As indigenous theologian Randy Woodley puts it, “Part of human spirituality is to be content to leave mystery as mystery.” (1)

So instead of seeing mystery as a negative, I think we can learn to see mystery as a positive in our lives. Richard Rohr has a helpful way of explaining the positive side of mystery in relation to our faith:

“Mystery is not something you can’t know. Mystery is endless knowability. Living inside such endless knowability is finally a comfort, a foundation of ultimate support, security, unrestricted love, and eternal care. For all of us, it takes much of our life to get there; it is what we surely mean by ‘growing’ in faith. I can’t prove this to you. Each soul must learn on its own, hopefully aided by observing other faith-filled people.”(2)

Whether we are sipping a cup of coffee, watching a storm out the window, or talking to a friend who is going through a difficult circumstance, there is always some mystery involved – there are always more ways, different ways and deeper ways to “know” those experiences. How much more is this true of God? If spiritual growth is about connecting with God and learning more about God and God’s ways, then mystery will always be a part of it. Because, thankfully, God is very big, and God’s ways and thoughts are much higher than mine.

As a human being, my responsibility in creation is not to figure it all out or make sense of all the mysteries of the universe (or even my life)! My responsibility is to lean fully into the things I do know about God while being honest about all the other things that I don’t know. Embracing God’s mystery does not mean being content with all my questions about God going unanswered or settling for an idea of God that is vague, undefined, uncertain, or distant. It means always holding space in my heart and mind for a God who is so vast, deep, complex, and beautiful that there will always be new things about God for me to discover and be surprised by.

After twenty-three years of marriage to my wife, Heather, I’m still learning new things about her, and I love that… at least most of the time.☺ My relationship with Heather is ongoing and dynamic. It is never finished. I don’t love some abstract idea of Heather in the past or the future. I love Heather, a living person in the present who always holds within herself the possibility of surprises and new discoveries for me. I can trust this process because it is in the context of loving relationship. In this way, I think the mysteries of God can deepen our love for God. There is always more of God to know and experience and share than what we have previously known. This journey of discovery is good not because we know perfectly, but because whatever knowing (or unknowing) that happens is in the context of God’s “love that surpasses knowledge (Ephesians 3:18-19).”

Randy S. Woodley, Shalom and the Community of Creation: An Indigenous Vision (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), 100.
Richard Rohr, Holding the Tension: The Power of Paradox (CAC: 2007), disc 3.

About the Author

Fruits of the Spirit | Peace that Disrupts

Aaron Friesen December 16, 2022

Most, if not all, humans want peace. But there are different ways we imagine peace in our lives, and some of the ways that we imagine it are not necessarily aligned with the kind of peace that the Spirit wants to create. What is the nature of the peace that the Spirit generates and desires to work out in our lives and in the world?

1. It is Disruptive

We often think of disruptions in our lives as those things that take away or invade our peace. We especially feel this way when life is going well for us, and things seem to be functioning as we have planned. I’m quite happy sitting by a pool and reading a book. Please don’t interrupt my peace and quiet!

But, when I read the Bible, I notice a pattern that the peacemaking work of the Spirit in the world is often initially experienced by those involved as a disruption. It is usually more chaotic or uncomfortable than it is calm or easy.

Advent season is an especially good time for us to reflect on the fact that the various stories leading up to the birth of Jesus include promises of peace in the midst of significant disruptions.

With the birth of Jesus come announcements of peace:

Zachariah, filled with the Holy Spirit, prophesies that his son will prepare the way for the Messiah and in doing so will “guide our feet into the path of peace (Luke 1:79).”
The angels declare to the shepherds that this child will bring “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace (Luke 2:14).”
Matthew notes that Jesus’s birth fulfills the Messianic prophecies of Isaiah 9 where among the titles given to this child is “prince of peace (Matthew 4:14-16; Isaiah 9:6).”

But these announcements of peace do not immediately result in tranquil or calm or easy situations for those involved. They are quite disruptive and inconvenient:

Zachariah’s prophecy came as a result of his wife’s unexpected pregnancy that rattled him to the core (Luke 1:18-20).
The angelic birth announcement interrupted the work of rural shepherds and sent them traveling in search of this child (Luke 2:15-16).
Isaiah’s vision of the prince of peace is introduced with visions of a leader who breaks, shatters, and burns various tools of oppression (Isaiah 9:4-5).

And when this child of peace finally arrives, it is anything but easy or tranquil for his parents entrusted with his care. Bethlehem is so overcrowded that the only bed they can find for their newborn is a feeding trough. After his birth, they are forced to travel to Egypt to escape Herod’s murderous edict. The only story we have of Jesus as a young boy includes his parents frantically searching and afraid for him.

Perhaps all the uneasy disruptions that take place in the narratives of his birth and childhood foreshadow the kind of peace that Jesus brings to the world. It is a disruptive peace. Simeon, who longed for the “consolation/comfort of Israel” understood through the Spirit that Jesus was “destined to cause the rise and fall of many in Israel (Luke 2:25-35).” Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, described peace as that which comes to the Gentiles through Jesus “tearing down the dividing wall of hostility (Eph. 2:14).” And the greatest example of peace coming through uncomfortable disruption is Jesus’ own death on the cross (Col. 1:20).

These passages lead me to conclude that God’s peace breaking into my world will often feel anything but peaceful. I should not expect the peace that the Spirit generates in my life to correlate directly with calm, relaxing and/or tranquil circumstances. It does lead toward those things on a cosmic scale, but in its generative form, the peace that the Spirit brings is often initially disruptive, unsettling, and uneasy.

2. It is Collective

One reason the peace that the Spirit brings is a disruptive peace is because the peace that God wants is collective, not individual. God’s vision of peace on earth is ever widening. God is not interested in maintaining peace for the powerful at the expense of those who are weak and poor, but that is often the kind of peace that we are attracted to, move toward, and settle for without even thinking about it.

In order for a new kind of peace to be experienced, old arrangements that leave people out must be disrupted, and those disruptions are often uncomfortable. As the great Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann says,

“The prophetic vision of shalom stands against all private arrangements, all ‘private peaces,’ all ghettos that pretend the others are not there… Shalom is never the private property of the few.”(1)

3. It is Restorative

Another reason the peace that the Spirit works out in our lives is disruptive is because it is restorative in nature. It is not a peace that seeks to simply maintain relationships as they are. It is a peace that restores relationships (with God, others, self, and the creation) that have been damaged or lost. This restorative work is often initially uncomfortable. In order to fix something, you have to know what’s wrong. But sometimes we would prefer to live in a state of denial or distraction.

In his description of the biblical visions of peace as shalom in the Bible, indigenous theologian Randy Woodley says,

“Shalom always restores dignity to the most marginalized of society.”(2)

Even as a baby, Jesus was beginning to change things and upset norms by bringing dignity and honor to people (shepherds, Mary, David’s family) and places (Nazareth, Bethlehem, a manger/stable) that had been forgotten or left out. This ministry of restoring dignity continued throughout Jesus’ public ministry, and it continues now in our midst through the Spirit.

So, are disciples of Jesus doomed to a life of change, unsettledness, and discomfort? I think the answer to that question is yes. But that reality does not necessarily lead us to be people of anxiety, fear, and worry as the world wants us to think. In fact, with the help of the Spirit, it leads us in the opposite direction. True joy, true peace, true hope can only come as we participate in God’s cosmic project of reconciliation (Col. 1:15-20). This is what the Spirit bears witness to in our spirits even as God is disrupting things (2 Cor. 1) in our lives. This is “the peace of God that transcends all understanding (Phil. 4:7).”

This is an area where my view of God’s work in my life has radically changed over the years. For much of my life, I assumed that a good test of the Spirit’s work was how peaceful or calm or tranquil it made me feel. Because of that, I think there have been many times that I have ignored genuine stirrings of the Spirit just because they made me feel uncomfortable or uneasy. Rather than quickly running from things that make me uncomfortable, I now realize the importance of asking questions about those feelings: Why do I feel uncomfortable? Is it possible this discomfort is something God wants me to feel? Is there something that God is wanting to disrupt in me or around me in order to make room for a greater, broader, and more enduring peace to reign?

I think these are the kinds of questions that Mary was willing to ask herself when the angel visited her with the startling news that she would give birth to the Messiah. I think her willingness to answer these questions gave her the clarity in the face of such a great disruption to say, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled (Luke 1:38).”

Water Brueggemann, Peace (St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2001), 19-20.
Randy S. Woodley, Shalom and the Community of Creation: An Indigenous Vision (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), 25-26.

About the Author

Truth in Love | Truthing in Love

Aaron Friesen October 7, 2022

In Ephesians 4, Paul shares a vision for how a Christian community can become mature in Christ. Paul says that God has provided apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers to equip and build up God’s people. He goes on to say that as the body of Christ grows and becomes mature, it will no longer be blown around and tossed back and forth by whatever cunning or crafty teaching that comes our way. In contrast to that way of living, Paul describes a different way of being in the world. The phrase that Paul uses to describe this way of being is most often translated “speaking the truth in love.” What does Paul mean by this phrase?

Often, I have heard people appeal to this verse in defense of a moral obligation that they believe Christians have to speak up, proclaim and preach biblical truth no matter how difficult or uncomfortable or harsh it might seem to other people. In this line of interpretation, the “in love” part of the verse is usually applied to the motives behind one’s decision to speak up. In short, our love for God’s truth and our concern that people not be deceived should compel us to speak up and profess truth (as we have defined it) whenever we have the opportunity, no matter how unpopular it might be.

While honesty, truth-telling and speaking up about injustices and wrongs is an essential part of community building, I don’t think that our words are the only (or even the main) thing that Paul had in mind with this phrase. In Greek, the phrase that Paul uses is alētheuein en agape. The Greek word for speaking or saying (laleō) is not used here. Instead, Paul simply uses the verb form of truth (alētheia), which certainly could include speaking honestly (it is used in this way in 4:25) but is much broader.

John Stott presents this argument in his commentary on Ephesians, “’Speaking the truth in love’ is not the best rendering of [Paul’s] expression, for the Greek verb makes no reference to our speech. Literally, it means, ‘truthing (alētheuontes ) in love’, and includes the notions of ‘maintaining,’ ‘living’ and ‘doing’ the truth.”(1) Peter Williamson and Mary Healy’s commentary on Ephesians also picks up on this point of translation and they explain Paul’s main idea in this way:

Rather than being deceived and unstable, Christians should be living the truth. The Greek here uses the participle of a verb derived from “truth”– comparable to “truthing” – that contrasts with the “trickery,” “cunning,” and “deceitful scheming” that precedes it. Paul calls us not only to be loyal to the truth, but to do so without being arrogant or harsh: he urges us to live in the truth out of a desire for the good of others, acting in love.(2)

Although this may seem like a minor point of translation, I think it has significant implications for how we might apply Paul’s words to our everyday lives. Theologian Miroslav Volf identifies some of these points in his book Exclusion and Embrace:

Commentators usually render this term “speaking the truth in love.” But the verb used in the original is not “to speak” but “to truth,” which in addition to speaking the truth may mean cherishing, maintaining, doing or living the truth… [Paul’s point is that] untruth holds captive both minds and lives and therefore cannot be overcome only with right thoughts and right words. It takes a truthful life to want to seek after truth, to see the truth when confronted by it, and to say the truth out loud without fear.(3)

If Paul’s accent is not on the words that we speak (although it certainly includes our words), but the way that we live our lives, then the most important question we should be asking ourselves in response to this verse is not, “What should I say because I love God?” Instead, the key question may be something like, “What should I be doing in order to align my life to the truth of God’s love?” Sometimes, this aligning of our lives may involve speaking up. At other times, it may involve shutting up. The important thing is that in whatever we are doing, we are allowing our actions to be shaped by the bigness of God’s love for the world that surpasses all knowledge (Ephesians 3:17-19). I think this way of interpreting this phrase makes so much sense in the context of this section of Paul’s letter – a section that is focused on articulating a new way of living that corresponds to all the grace and love that we all have received from God in Christ (Ephesians 4:1-3) in contrast to a life that is governed by a deadened sensitivity toward others (Ephesians 4:17-18).

Thanks to the internet and social media, there are now many platforms and digital spaces available to us where we can post/speak our opinions, thoughts, and beliefs for others to read/hear. These tools open up amazing opportunities to share things that are important to us with others across huge geographical distances, but if we feel a sense of closure or completeness in simply posting (speaking) our truth for others to read, we have missed the point of what Paul is talking about. The power of whatever truth that we have to share will only be realized as we do our best to work it out through concrete actions in our daily lives and relationships. This action, and the corresponding good fruit that comes from it over time, is what authenticates a message that is really true in contrast to other messages that we might speak or hear that prove to be false or unreliable. I think this is what John was getting at when he wrote, “Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth. This is how we know that we belong to the truth” (1 John 3:18-19, NIV).

As somebody who has spent a lot of time in school researching, writing, reading, analyzing, and discussing words, I realize I can get pretty fixated on trying to say things just right. The words we say to ourselves and one another are certainly important, but I can let the task of careful and precise talking and thinking distract me or, even worse, excuse me from the most important task of putting those ideas into practice. I need to be reminded that the most powerful witness to truth that I have is not my words but my life. A life shaped by love is the truest, realest thing in the world, and a life shaped by love can communicate truth powerfully whether or not I have exactly the right words to go with it.

John Stott, The Message of Ephesians (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2020), 131.
Williamson, Peter S., and Mary Healy. Ephesians. Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture (Grand Rapids, Mich: Baker Academic, 2009), 122-123.
Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness, and Reconciliation (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996), 256.

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Ephesians 4 | Re-Sensitized by the Spirit

Aaron Friesen July 29, 2022

I remember when our kids were little, they were quite sensitive to the background music playing in stores in a way that I was not. There were multiple times where I noticed my one-year-old child bopping to store music while sitting in the grocery cart when I hadn’t even noticed that any music was playing. Over time, I guess my brain learned to filter out the music. Apparently, the playlist on the overhead speakers at Fred Meyer wasn’t nearly as important as other things like which kind of cheese to get or finding the garbanzo bean aisle. But the brain of the child sitting in the cart right in front of me wasn’t doing that kind of filtering. They were noticing and hearing every note played and word sung, and it was causing their whole body to move to the beat.

Just like my brain now has a deadened sensitivity to store background music, we can have our senses deadened to other more important things. This is the reality that Paul describes in Ephesians chapter four. Paul says,

17-19
So I tell you this, and insist on it in the Lord, that you must no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their thinking. They are darkened in their understanding and separated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them due to the hardening of their hearts. Having lost all sensitivity, they have given themselves over to sensuality so as to indulge in every kind of impurity, and they are full of greed.

Here, Paul describes a significant problem that he has observed among the Gentiles. He says that they have lost all sensitivity. Sensitivity to what? If you look at the whole chapter, it becomes clear that what Paul is concerned about is a loss of sensitivity to how one’s actions - words, sexual practices, spending habits, work ethic, etc. - can tear down or build up other people. Paul says that this desensitization, over time, has separated them from the life God intended for them - a life of “good works” (2:10) and “works of service” (4:12). Paul goes on to explain that this desensitization has led to all forms of greed (wanting to take more for oneself at the expense of others), unwholesome talk (words that tear people down), and sexual practices that are impure (focused on one’s own pleasure at the expense of another).

Sidenote: the NIV translates a phrase in v.19 “given themselves over to sensuality,” but that may not be the best translation because it can give the impression that one’s bodily senses are bad and lead us astray, which seems to contradict the “loss of sensitivity” Paul describes in the previous verse. The Greek word there is “aselgeia,” which literally means “self-abandonment” or “a complete lack of self-constraint.”* The idea is that the Gentiles have lost sensitivity to how their actions affect other people (the common good) and have given themselves over to an attitude and way of life where certainly bodily urges are leading the way without boundaries or restraint. Paul’s point is that our bodily senses are good and helpful gifts from God, but when they are put solely in the service of what makes me as an individual feel good in a moment, they will destroy the very things that God intends to build up in my life.

Paul contrasts this way of life with the new kind of living toward which God leads us in Christ. One way we could summarize this new life is a renewed sensitivity to how our actions and decisions are connected to and affect the plight and wellbeing of other people. The Holy Spirit reactivates our senses (senses that God has given us all from the beginning but that have been deadened over time) the way Jesus’ senses were activated – re-tuning our ears to the needs and cries of the people around us.

Think about how many times Jesus stopped and paid attention to people that had become background music for other people. Remember the story when Jesus was walking in a sea of people and suddenly, he stopped and asked, “Who touched me?” His disciples were like, “What are you talking about? Everybody is touching you!” But Jesus, whose senses were not so deadened, knew different. He knew something significant was happening to somebody in the moment and he stopped to find out who it was and address it.

This is the kind of re-sensitizing that the Holy Spirit is ready to do in us if we are open to it! The Holy Spirit inside of us wants to awaken our senses to the reality that we are on this earth to build up others, to encourage others, to care for the needs of others, to lift others up, to be agents of healing and hope, and to love one another honestly and deeply. Paul’s urgent plea to the Ephesians, and to us as the church, is that those who are moved by the Spirit in a new direction with these new sensitivities should take on new actions that are consistent with them.

I’m confident this is the way the Holy Spirit slowly and surely builds a community of love in our midst:

Individuals become re-sensitized to God’s love through Christ
They catch a vision of what life could look like if it was governed by Christ’s love
They learn ways of being, acting and decision making that do and do not correspond to that way of love embodied in Christ
They begin to align their way of living to this new way of living – the way of love, the way of Christ

The good news is that the Holy Spirit intends for this re-sensitization to happen within community. We need apostles, prophets, pastors, teachers, and evangelists to teach us and show us, in different ways, how our lives are connected to the lives of others so that we truly are prepared and equipped for works of service (4:11-13). Each, in their own way, help us to do this. The apostles among us, like Paul, help us to catch a vision of what could be in the world if we each take the call of Christ seriously. The prophets among us help to uncover individual and systemic injustices that do not truly embody Christ’s love. The pastors and teachers among us come alongside to elucidate, clarify, and demonstrate this new way of love. And the evangelists among us remind us that the community of Christ’s love is intended to be ever-expanding and growing to include more and more people.

During the past two years, I think the Holy Spirit – through the input of many prophets, apostles, evangelists, teachers, and pastors – has been re-sensitizing me to certain needs in our larger community that had become background music. It’s amazing to me that as I’ve become more attuned to certain needs around me God has also helped me to see how I can play a small part in addressing those needs. This is how God works!

*Frederic W. Danker, Ed. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and other Early Christian Literature, Third Edition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001.

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Unity | Surprising Flavor Combinations: Unity in and through Our Diversity

Aaron Friesen March 25, 2022

One of the best salads I’ve ever eaten was a salad that originated at a restaurant in Scottsdale, Arizona called the ORIGINAL CHOPPED SALAD (the salad has a Facebook fan page if you want to look it up!). It consists of an unlikely and surprising combination of ingredients:

Smoked salmon
Israeli couscous
Arugula
A mix of dried black currants, pepitas and grated asiago cheese
Freeze-dried corn
Diced tomatoes
A buttermilk-pesto dressing

I would never ever think of eating this combination of ingredients! By themselves I don’t think any of them would taste very good, and my initial thought of eating all these together in one bowl was, “Gross!!!” But, let me tell you, one taste and I was hooked. To my amazement, all those flavors tossed together tasted wonderful! There was an unexpected unity in them that I could never have imagined.

In his book, A Fellowship of Differents, Scot McKnight uses the metaphor of a tossed salad to talk about how the church, as God intends it, is a collective of people with a lot of differences (backgrounds, social locations, ethnicities, genders, languages, etc.) coming together with a common transcendent purpose. In our coming together, just like all the flavors in the original chopped salad, the whole is much greater (more beautiful, more tasty, more exciting) than the individual parts.

I love this imagery. God is a culinary artist who has the knowledge and perspective needed to concoct unexpectedly wonderful flavor combinations. The Holy Spirit is God’s appointed chef who puts all the ingredients together however she sees fit. And us humans, in all our variation, are the ingredients God uses to create these amazing flavors.

I think this is also a helpful metaphor for thinking about unity in the church. Unity does not achieve its best flavors in a local church community when one or more of the parts are overpowered by the others. That would be like taking a beautiful mixed salad and dumping ranch all over it! Unity, in a church as God intends it, is achieved through all the parts fully expressing themselves.

This is the kind of unity that we see present in the earliest days of the church. In Acts 2, on the Day of Pentecost, people gathered in an upper room in Jerusalem “from every nation under heaven.” As the Holy Spirit moved in the room, they began to hear sounds and words that they did not expect. They heard the wonders of God declared in their own native languages. Beyond anyone’s wildest predictions, the Holy Spirit determined that God’s wonders would be expressed, not through one person or language, but through many. Although the scene was chaotic (some thought they were all drunk!), it was a scene of profound and deep unity as all of the diversity present was channeled toward a single purpose through the power of the Holy Spirit.

I recently read a book that captured this point well:

“The Spirit of Pentecost works through many tongues and many voices, some of those we would expect and a goodly number of people we might not otherwise include. One Lord, one baptism, one body made up of many different parts. The unity is in the diversity, and it is not for one part to silence either the voice or priorities of the others. The work of God is not ours to control. Where the Spirit works, we must listen.”

Patrick Oden and Peter Goodwin Heltzel, The Dialogic Evangelical Theology of Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen: Exploring the Work of God in a Diverse Church and a Pluralistic World (Lanham, MD: Fortress Academic, 2022), 3.

There is a kind of unity that we might be able to achieve by simply avoiding situations, conversations and decisions where we disagree with one another. But this is not the kind of unity that the Spirit of God wants to create. The unity that the Holy Spirit moves us toward is a unity in and through the various expressions of our diversity. It is not a unity we can achieve by playing it safe or keeping things under tight control. It is a unity that only comes to those who willingly enter the risky and uncharted spaces of listening and being together, with new and different people, for the sake of a new kind of community that God wants to create.

I wonder what new and wonderful flavor combinations might the Holy Spirit be preparing for us to enjoy together if we will: 1) make intentionally safe spaces for different people to gather, 2) humbly and confidently testify to the wonders of God through our unique stories, 3) carefully listen to and receive the testimonies of others, and 4) trust that the Holy Spirit is creating something new and wonderful through the whole process beyond what we can imagine?

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