Having someone challenge you to think about something you take for granted is annoying. You know this is true. You get asked something like, “Why do you always have the same drink order at Starbucks?” or “Why do you love your spouse?” (two questions of an admittedly different scope), and you just mumble something about “Because it is what it is, and I just do. Why do you have to be so annoying, especially before I've had that second caffeine boost?”
Recently, our church leadership and staff have been asked to consider the question-- “What is the gospel?” We assume we know. We've listened to Billy Graham. We got the bracelet with the colored beads. We know the Romans Road and can traverse it with the best of them. But think about this.
What do you know? What would you say? Cut away what you assume and take for granted and answer the question like you've never heard it. Maybe you haven't.
What. Is. The. Gospel?
It's a question I've pondered since seminary days, when I told my theology professor I thought salvation had to be toward something good rather than simply away from something bad. He agreed.
My fellow students looked at me funny. Wasn't the first or last time. I didn't know I was thinking outside of the box of orthodox evangelicalism. I had no box for reference—I hadn't grown up in one like most of these guys had. I only knew they looked at me funny, which, if you know me, you know felt a little bit like a badge of honor.
|Yes, it's broken. My favorite plate. Because people do this. |
Break things. We're good at it.
Now, twenty- and thirty-somethings are daring to say those things I said when I was twenty-something, only now people are listening. Story of my life.
But preach it, sisters and brothers, because we need to go back and ask that question.
Ask it again and again until we know we've left behind our assumptions and boxes and easy three-step answers and are left naked with nothing but the Word of God and open ears.
What is the gospel? Twenty-five words of fewer?(Yeah, “less” is grammatically incorrect. You've been lied to your whole life.)
I'm giving it a shot.
God created. Everything. He had a plan for perfect balance and a relationship with humans—His image-bearers. We messed it up by trying to be more than image-bearers--trying for the image itself. We wanted to run the show. We forgot we didn't create it and didn't know how to run it. Dumb. Fyi—We still do this.
God sent His image again—Jesus—perfect man and God in one piece. I don't quite get how either. But he did. Jesus said “I know your lives are broken, and your relationships are broken, and your everything is pretty much broken because that first relationship that all good things come from is broken. I'll fix it. You didn't keep your agreement with your Creator, but Ill keep it for you; I'll die to keep it.
And when I come back (which will blow away ALL your assumptions), I'll start really shaking things up. I'll start planning for and expecting the Kingdom that God meant to happen here will happen. Here. Now. And I'll start giving you the power to help me make it happen, if you believe me.
OK, that was way more than 25 words. Still, three paragraphs is not too bad, when you consider my theology book i school was about four inches wide. So 25 words? How about:
God created. We broke. God loved. He fixed. We love back—we help fix.
Fourteen words. Boom.
I'd love to know your words. How would you explain the gospel? If you are not a believer, how would you explain it? What have you heard people tell you it is? What do or don't you like of what you've heard? I would really love to have that conversation.