“I know you are, but what am I?” Bum theology and the doctrine of Grace.
My wife and I had the pleasure of traveling to New York City this past week. I was there to attend a book event for my recently published book, Life in 3D! The Superhero’s Guide to the Galaxy (www.bruceleesmith.co). While there, I was overjoyed to be able to take time Sunday morning, before leaving, to join Redeemer Presbyterian and Tim Keller during their worship service. I have often read Tim’s work, and have wanted to hear him speak and see the ministry there firsthand. Just the idea that a church, centered upon the Word of God, not show, is thriving in a culture of performance and “show me”, profoundly inspires me. The fact that they meet on at least five sites, at five different times, throughout the city, is all the more impressive. In a city filled with so many distractions, thousands gather every week to hear the transformative message of grace.
As we took time to enjoy the arts, walk the museums, gorge on the food, linger in the bookstores, and drown in the all the sensory options, it was refreshing to wind up the trip, quietly, simply, hearing and meditating on the work of God in us, and His longing to reach a people caught up in the boastful race of self-fulfillment.
Tim’s message, based on Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, was the message of redemption and transformation offered to bums like me, like all of us. Does that suggestion make you cringe? Don’t like to consider yourself a bum? Well, before you get to bummed out, consider with me, for a moment, what Grace is all about.
Surely, we can all remember those moments on the schoolyard, as children, after a verbal zinger had been let off, and the refrain was shot back, “I know you are, but what am I?!” Some still use the line as adults, though perhaps, with different words. The phrase, emotional and cutting, is of course, an attempt to re-establish our place in the world, reduce the embarrassment that results from being called out in front of others, and ultimately, an attempt to brace ourselves against the charge that essentially confronts each of us, a piercing charge that proclaims, “You are a bum!” Am I?, we think to ourselves. And then we kill the idea, mercilessly. No, the other guy may be a bum, but not me, I will not entertain this idea! Honestly, the idea haunts us all, its our background music, its why we run so hard, strive so long, and squeeze our fists so often.
It hurts when we know that others don’t view us as special, unique, and of value. Insults force us to consider who we really are and what we are really made of. This shows up in the bruising interplay of struggling marriages and in the seemingly trivial realities of road rage. As Tim Keller pointed out in his sermon on this New York Sunday morning, its all about the Rocky Balboa complex. Rocky, driven by his own inner longing, fear, and questions about himself, lying next to Adrian, offers the most honest and unsettling of truths about each of us. Attempting to justify himself before his girl, and in his attempt to justify his place on this planet, he tells Adrian that his desire to fight Apollo stems from his yearning to know he can “go the distance” with the champ. Such a stand, Rocky says, will finally assure him, “…I am not a bum.” Rocky, with those words, honest, deeply open, reveals what drives us all in our quests for success, sex, accomplishment, moral achievement, religiosity, reputation, money, grades, fame, pleasure, and so much more. We, like Rocky, fear we are bums. And here is the real news…we are. Every last one of us…we are bums. Ouch.
Bum theology. What is this about? Where is the good news?
You came to this reading, no doubt, in hopes of some bit of encouragement and direction for your life. You did not, I presume, take time to read this rambling with the expectation of getting beat up more than life has already pounded you. Well, hang on. Steady yourself against the ropes. The bell of grace is coming to save you soon enough.
Paul, a man we consider Saint of Saints, proclaimed himself a bum. He suggested, remember, “I am the chief of sinners.” Paul knew he was a bum. It was the second pillar that supported his life along with the pillar of grace. Paul understood, came to understand, what we don’t like to acknowledge, apart from God, we are nothing. In his former life, jew of jews, educated, respected, a scholar of scholars, a mocker and killer of God’s people, Paul boasted. He came to see how reviling such empty boasts were. God, as it were, literally stopped him in his tracks, knocked him off his horse, blinded him, exposed him to the truth that God could end him in a moment, and he was then blinded, splendidly, by the brilliance and radiance of God’s truth, grace, and calling. All he had boasted about, he came to see as a vulgar projection of falsehood and empty living.
Yes, we are created in God’s image, as the scriptures tell us. It is also true God loves us beyond degree. The deeper, precious, and fundamental truth, in this mix, however, is that we are loved not because we are innately lovable, rather, we are loved because God is a lover, and He longs to see that which He created walk with Him in relationship. Jesus, the perfect man, God in the flesh, sent to us to restore the gap between God and human beings which resulted from our disobedience, is God’s personal message of Grace amidst our “bumness”. Because we have a bum nature, God intervenes, reaches those created for relationship with Him, now estranged by sin, transforms our bum nature by His nature, and gives us a new heart and a new life. We can only truly boast, as Paul discovered, in God’s marvelous work in us, amidst our vileness and comedic distortion.
The truth of the Gospel is not that we deserve goodness, that we are splendid, talented, and deserving of blessing. It is not that we earned enough, accomplished enough, gained enough degrees, spoke in front of enough people, won enough elections. No, as Paul writes to the Ephesians, we have no reason to “boast” in anything. In fact, what Paul is really saying, and what Tim Keller pointed out in his message, is that the boasting spoken of by Paul is actually a vain attempt to instill confidence in ourselves. Like men going into battle, like a woman readying herself for another date, like a man attempting to secure his waning confidence in his ability, like a politician waxing gregariously about his leadership resume, the boasting Paul was referring to, is an empty jest. Its our attempt to tell others, based upon some dubious scale of human crafting, that we are worth time and effort, we should be the center of attention.
We try to rally ourselves into a stupor of confidence, based upon some worldly standard of measurement, and all the while God looks down in compassionate laughter, saying, “Is he serious?! He really believes that!” God knows the truth about us. He sees our weakness and inability to direct our lives. He sees what we think, what motivates us, and has a front row view of our darkest thoughts and actions. He knows, also, that He alone is our beginning and our end. He alone is our story. Without Him it all falls apart. What have we to boast about in ourselves, really? Nothing. Anything “good” in our lives is a byproduct of His extending grace to us. He graces us with intellect, drive, provision, personality, open doors, and so much more. Yet, at the slightest bit of success, we boast in our selves. We take the gifts He has placed in us and we corrupt them and use them for our own name and gain. We mismanage the artistic potential for heroism, implanted in us by God, for good, and we become the anti-hero. Like the devil, we disdain the Creator for being the Creator, and in our self-worship we cut ourselves off from the fountain of life, the source of life’s spring.
Such an approach to life, in reality, is like the petal boasting in itself, free from the branch, detached from the stem, removed from the soil. The boast of men and women, even as it relates to moral achievement, is like the violin boasting in its sound, though no sound can come from even the finest Stradavarius without the touch of the musician. Indeed, the instrument would not exist were it not for the creative genius which brought it to life. The instrument can be beautiful, and its potential for melody astonishing, yet, without the direction and execution of the player, no lasting good can result. A violin with no context, no score, and no touch, is merely an ornament of futility, however aesthetically attractive it may be. What makes all Strads so valuable, beyond the artistry of the design, the varnish, and the lines, is the sound. That sound, unique, full, luxurious, and transcendent, arises from the instrument and makes its way into the ears of hungry listeners only as a master does his work. The grace results when the instrument moves in a musical dance with the one who tunes and strokes its strings. The majesty fills the concert hall only as the instrument is subject to the precision and artistry of the violinist.
Grace is like this. As God’s own creations, we are created with an eye toward detail, beauty, and glory. Yet, only as we allow Him, our maker, to direct our score, craft our notes, perfect our pitch, and conduct it all, do we find the one thing worth boasting in, His grace. Just as the real genius of a Strad lies in its maker’s hands, so too our greatness is found in the Great One who put us together while we were yet in the womb, as the scriptures make known.
Bum theology. Its an accurate depiction of biblical truth. Grace, the crown jewel of God’s composition. Bum theology, self-focus identified, leads us to the truth that in ourselves we implode, we strive for a place to be known. Grace, our re-making, points us to where we already belong, in who we belong, and where we are loved, regardless of what we bring to the table. We are loved because we are His. Our boast, if we are to boast, is in our Father. The boasts of this world, attempts to define ourselves for others, and a groping to hide our own fear of not measuring up, will suffocate us emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually. When we make our way to that place where we can say with Paul and with the Psalmist, “…our boast is in the Lord!”, we will find rest and joy for our souls. Such a boast, a profound understanding of who we are in Him, embraces the truth of bum theology, and lavishes in the theology of Jesus, Grace in flesh and blood.
Here, in getting our proper boast on, we can relax, and approach all our efforts as one more shot to go the distance, run the race, and win the prize, for God’s purposes. THAT is something worth fighting for. We have already been made champions in being restored to Him, in being granted intimate relationship with the One who controls the stars and galaxies. What more could we ask for? What more could we boast in? What more could offer our souls anything bigger and of more consequence? We all like sheep (not so bright bums) have gone astray, the bible reads. But the Good Shepherd has gone on an all out search for each and every one of His lost sheep. He has turned the house upside down to find that one lost coin (Luke 15). And He stands atop His hillside estate, looking longingly for those who have run off and squandered their lives, waiting for the day we return, so He can run out toward us, take us in, and boast in the restoration of His children!
Get your boast on, bum!
Bruce Lee Smith
www.bruceleesmith.co