Saturday was a fairly interesting day in my newly resumed world of retail. I had an easy shift and went in quite relaxed planning to sell some shoes, clean up and go home. Walking into my work area, I saw a friend of mine looking at some cleats, and thought to go over and talk with him for a while. Headed that way, though, I got recruited to do my job for a particularly hurried, talkative, but nice enough guy looking to buy some shoes that fit just right but didn't take too long to find. I'm not sure how the conversation progressed, but somehow he asked what I was planning to study in school. (He also guessed I was just finishing high school, which made me feel a little better about myself than an almost 28 year old just starting college again should). When I told him I would be studying philosophy and Christian apologetics, I stepped out of my routine day at work and into a short but serious one-sided conversation fueled by my customer's pluralistic view of religion. Turns out he obtained his master's degree in humanistic psychology, which he assumed would make me uncomfortable.

Like I stated, he was in somewhat of a hurry, so he quickly got to the point by telling me that he had been skiing with a guy to whom he mentioned something like, "Wouldn't it be great if God would step out on the top of that mountain and just tell everyone, whether Christian or Jew or Muslim, or whatever that they all worship the same God?" His skiing buddy apparently didn't like the comment, and I, as peaceably as I could, agreed that I had a problem with such philosophy myself. He responded by asking, "Jesus was God manifested in the flesh, right?" I agreed, and then was told that was the same for every other religious leader. At that point, I told him that it falls back on that word he used - "manifested." While I initially agreed with his statement on its face, that word leaves some room for clarification. Jesus was not merely God made known to us, which could limit Him to the same place of esteem held by Mohamed or any other assumed prophet of God. No, Jesus was God, very God Himself. One of the most important statements confirmed (not concocted) by, I believe, the Council of Nicaea is that Jesus was and is very God of God. As C. S. Lewis so eloquently pointed out, Jesus made claims that, if not true, would drop him to the level of a lunatic at best, if not a blatant liar - neither of which would qualify Him as simply a good teacher. At that, my customer found some shoes and the conversation was abruptly concluded.

My debatorial work for the evening did not come to an end, however. Later on, I found myself in a heated, though friendly, one-hour conversation with two of my manager friends that covered everything from Hillary Clinton and Ann Coulter to Jesse Jackson and Imus; evolution and creation to the Discovery Channel and eccentric evangelists. The short of it is this conversation also, I later realized, really came down to who one believes Jesus to be. In fact, it seems like this really is the bottom line in every debate of this type.

In Jesus' conversation with Nicodemus in John 3, He states, "I speak only of what I know by experience; I give witness only to what I have seen with my own eyes. There is nothing secondhand here, no hearsay. Yet instead of facing the evidence and accepting it, you procrastinate with questions. If I tell you things that are plain as the hand before your face and you don't believe me, what use is there in telling you of things you can't see, the things of God?" (verses 10-12, The Message). The things Jesus was talking about were things about Himself; things about who He was. Like the religious leaders constantly questioning Him, people today who do not accept Jesus for who He is will not be able to understand the rest of life's questions. Too many times we get into pointless situations trying to explain some moral code or theological belief to people who don't believe there is a God to begin with. Like Nicodemus, we have to start with the evidence in front of us. The closest we have ever physically come to God is Jesus the Christ. Unfortunately, the more distant His existence falls into history, the less people consider who He really was on this earth. I suppose this is why there is such an onslaught of concocted evidence against His lifestyle and resurrection. If He can be reduced to a sexual man who got married, had kids, and died, then the quest for ultimate truth, if it even exist, can take us anywhere and everywhere we want, whether to a Christian church, a Muslim mosque, an orthodox synagogue, an eastern mystic, or a combination of any and all. We can just walk into the world religion cafe and grab whatever catches our eye off the smorgasbord.

We as Christians, then, have to remember to keep our conversations focused on the evidence. This is the job of Christian apologetics, the reasonable logic behind faith in Christ. Unless people realize who Christ is, their religious views are pointless. And it's not enough to say, "Just believe the Bible." Why should someone believe the Bible when it could be just a bunch of stories thrown together by powerful people wanting to hide the truth? Thankfully, we have a supernatural power behind us in this venture of changing people's minds about a historical figure two thousand years in the past. The Holy Spirit really is the true evangelist. Without Him no one would ever come to Christ, including those of us who already have. I pray we will learn the valid arguments our faith rest on, keep our focus where it belongs, and be people controlled by God's Spirit so that He can work through us to open eyes to the truth of life.

Probably six or seven years ago, not long after the death of Rich Mullins, my mom bought for me a copy of his biography, An Arrow Pointing to Heaven, which, I believe, was written by Brendan Manning. In the book, the author didn't elaborate, but made mention that Rich Mullins had recently converted or was in the process of converting to Catholicism shortly before his death. I was a little surprised at this, and also remembered hearing that Michael Card, who became a Christian during the Jesus Movement, became a part of a monastery almost immediately after turning to faith in Christ. Although my dad always taught me that salvation is based on each individual's decision for Christ rather than his or her church affiliation, I grew up well aware of the cult brand placed on the Catholic Church by most protestants. This post isn't really about Catholicism, but I do want to write down some of my thoughts as I've recently found myself rethinking Protestantism's nearly condemning stance against the liturgical methods that have defined the catholic faith. Before I get grilled like a $2 steak for being inclusive of all religions - which I am not! - let me explain.

I understand perfectly well the problematic beliefs from which Martin Luther revolted, and being as protestant as the next guy, greatly appreciate what he and his fellow Christians accomplished. (If you haven't seen the movie Luther, go to the movie store and rent a copy)! However, I think some of the practices we have written off as pointless acts of religion have been unfairly labeled and should be given more consideration as legitimate elements of faith - sort of. I'm not extremely well versed in my understanding of the historical practices, and probably couldn't name more than a couple. I do, though, know the stigma placed upon them, and think, while many of the practices may be outdated and irrelevant to our generation, we should think more carefully about the purposes behind the practices and be careful not to loose focus of the goal they were designed to lead us to.

I guess what I'm trying to get at is that, just as we protestants have accused Catholicism of being a religion based on actions rather than an ongoing relationship with Jesus, we have made Protestantism the same. The problem with the liturgical practices is that they became the important things themselves rather than the paths to get to the important things. (Again, I'm speaking of the practices themselves, not the deliberate corruption of the practices to get money and sex, etc.). I am afraid protestants have done the same. Liturgical practices were not originally intended to become items on a religions checklist, but rather methods of teaching their practitioners to identify with Christ and helping them follow through. They were designed to help new believers learn to separate themselves from the predominant culture, passionately share in the lives of other followers, and give of themselves on behalf of Christ, just as He gave of Himself for us. Whether we realize it or not, these are goals of protestant practices such as general standards of morality, small groups, Sunday schools, accountability groups, and mission trips. However, while these practices may seem more modern and relevant, they are often just as easily demoted to religious acts rather than methods that identify us with Christ.

Regardless how fresh and new a practice may seem, when it becomes the end itself instead of the means to a greater end, it becomes relatively pointless. Our ultimate call as Christians is not to attend worship, participate in a small group, or occasion a trip to build a house. Our call is to loose ourselves in Christ, and what we do should be done to help us get there, not to make us feel good about what we have accomplished. In other words, Protestantism is no better than Catholicism if its practices become ends rather than means to the end. We are fond of saying that Christianity is not religion but a relationship, but we need to understand that it is only a relationship when we relate ourselves to Christ. If I find myself aware of God's presence and in communion with Him by meditating quietly in a cathedral filled with candles, that is just what I should do. Human practices, though well-intended, are still human, and there will be humans who disagree. Still, if the purpose and motives are acceptable to God, His Spirit will bring results regardless of how ill-conceived the practices may seem to others.

I realize this is perhaps too large a topic for a blog, and may be discussed and debated to great extent, so let me conclude by trying to state my point in one statement. No matter how protestant or emergent or cutting edge or relation-based we claim to be, for our faith to be legitimate and effective, we must be sure that everything we do is motivated by a desire to be identified with Christ and nothing more or less. Let everything we do be done that we may know and experience the life-altering power of his resurrection, seeking not to make Christ a part of our lives, but to make our lives a part of Christ.