"The Gospel without Adjectives"--Michael Spencer

I will give you one more quote from Michael's book "Mere Churchianity", then you might decide to read the book for yourself.  I cannot fully endorse the book, because Michael never came around to an understanding of the sacraments and absolution, but there are many good parts and the overall message of the book should be contemplated.  We have been integrated into Christ's body for a purpose and this purpose is to love.  It is a call away from North American show business type church of the theology of glory. We are called to live for our neighbor and suffer, too.  Our new president of LCMS makes this point also in his book "Christ have mercy."  Faith will find things to do, no matter how humble, the works God has prepared for it;  as we are ONE in Christ we share each other's joy and pain.  If you click on the link, you will find about 100 reviews, as of this date.

The quote below relates how Michael came to stop looking for the victorious Christian life and started looking at his "bigger Savior".

The GOSPEL WITHOUT ADJECTIVES
After I rattled around on this path for a few years, I knew I needed to recalibrate my life with the real Jesus.  I had to ask myself a question:  Was the Christian life actually the "victorious" Christian life I was faking?  Was it supposed to be vibrant, electric, dynamic, supernatural, awesome, and___? (Insert your adjective of choice.)  Or was the Christian life different?  simpler?  more honest?  This journey led me toward the discoveries that I will be sharing in the next few chapters.  The Christian life is an expression of the gospel.  If your preferred gospel is Your Best Life Now, then your Christian life will be something like "discovering your awesome, unique destiny."
If your gospel is "God wants you to have a dynamic experience every day!"  then your Christian life will be a constant amusement park of dramatic divine interventions.
If your gospel is "Jesus Christ is our salvation.  He gives life to those who come to him by faith,"  then your Christian life will look like the joy of the rescued and the humility of the undeservedly graced.
If your gospel is "Jesus is for losers, and there's no need to lie about it,"  then your Christian life will be "Hello. My name is Michael, and I'm a big sinner with a bigger Savior."
Martin Luther let me know that I was not qualified to receive the victorious-Christian-life merit badge.  He also let me know that I wasn't a very good Christian.  I'd been reading the reformer's works in a course taught by Dr. Timothy George...  I could stop looking for the secret key, and I could ditch the quest to demonstrate that I was a Christian hero.  I was humbled as I looked at a universe of grace that filled my empty should with the love of god in Jesus.  He did it all.  he traversed the separation.  He brought together the unreconcilable.  He had paid the debt and had become the necessary sacrifice.  He had loved me to the uttermost.  He had given all this to me as a gift.  I had nothing to offer, nothing to contribute, nothing to do but simply stop ignoring his gift and receive it.  I was a drowning man whose rescue depended on stopping all efforts to swim and trusting someone who was not going to make me a better swimmer, but who would drown in my place.
... In seeking to be a good Christian, I was deserting the truth that there is no gospel for "good" Christians, because the Lamb of God was nailed to an altar for those who are not good and who are no good at pretending to be good.
pp. 133-135.

This is really what a conversion to Jesus Christ is.  Abandon all hope in yourself and receive overflowing hope in God.   You will never be the same and you will be able to judge all doctrine no matter how confused the church may sometimes look.  You will be able to love God, to love yourself and your neighbor.  Sometimes very poorly, but honestly and humbly.  We each have a "bigger Savior".

"It's hard to manufacture victory" -- Michael Spencer

On the trip to the mountains last weekend I read our dear, late, friend Michael Spencer's book "Mere Churchianity".

I found the book at times a bit confused and grew impatient with it then, however, it is a worthwhile book for the very real insights.  We always knew that Michael had great insight, therefore, we loved talking with him on his blog.

This is a little section from p. 130, 131.

IT'S HARD TO MANUFACTURE VICTORY
Soon after I committed my life to Christ, this sort of thing just about pushed me over the edge.  Preachers preached about victorious Christians and song lyrics celebrated it.  Book titles promised it in a few easy steps.  some people would stand up and give a testimony:  "I'm living it!  I'm living the victorious Christian life!"  They, of course, were good Christians.
but what about me?  I felt like a regular, run-of-the-mill Christian.  How could I be victorious and not just ordinary?
I did my best to follow what the preacher said on Sunday mornings.  I had accepted Jesus into my heart and prayed the recommended prayer.  I'd made a public profession of faith and been baptized.  I had a Bible.  I came to church.  I prayed... a little.  I tried to be a good witness, but I could plainly see that I wasn't living the "victorious" life.
I was still a lot like I was before I became a Christian.  I had the same sins, the same habits, and the same problems.  What was wrong?
Whenever I'd ask about it, the answers were always the same.  I hadn't  "totally surrendered."  I hadn't "given all."  I wasn't "trusting God" completely.  I needed to have an "intimate" and powerful "daily time with God."  I wasn't praying in the will of God.
I grew up attending a church that followed in the revivalist tradition.  The preacher insisted that we have constant experiences of and encounters with God, so the weekly exhortation was always, "are you sure you are a fully surrendered Christian?  Are you living in total victory over sin?  Have you done everything you can to be the best Christian you c an be?"
Measured by this standard, I was a miserable failure.  A loser with a capital L.  As more qualifiers and conditions were stuck on to what it meant to be a Christian, the worse it became for me.  I had never gone a day without sinning, or even ten minutes.  To make it even worse, the full responsibility to ramp up a victorious Christian life fell squarely on me, not on Christ and the transforming power of the gospel.  The preaching I heard every Sunday reminded me that god would help me out only after I did all the right things.  (But why would I need his help if I could manage, completely on my own, to do everything right?)
I concluded that either I wasn't living the Christian life or someone wasn't telling the truth.  I'd give it my best shot, trying even harder to get started right in living the Christina life.  I'd fail again.  Then I'd begin again, making big promises and resolutions.  This time I'd really get on top of things.  My seesaw approach to being a Christian was an every week event.  One more prayer, one more trip to the altar, one more big experience at a revival meeting, one more surrender or dramatic religious experience.

Michael describes us all.  We are all "trying" and it's not working like we think it should.  When I was trying, I did not know if I was a "Christian" at all, never mind a victorious one.  In German, a "Christ" sounds so lofty, someone who really follows Christ.  You could be "Katholisch" or you could be "Evangelisch".  This was easy.  It was your denomination.  You go to church more or less often and go to the appropriate religion class in school.  But to be a "Christian" was just something so lily-white pure, I would never have said it about myself without scruples.

The struggle Michael describes goes on after you are a Christian--a real Christian.  You start over and over and over and you are forgiven over and over and over.  This is what keeps you on your knees before the living God, who alone is righteous.   This is the right place to be in, on your knees.

However, through our Lord Jesus Christ, indeed we have the "victory".  What is this victory?  That we now are superhuman?  Certainly not. The victory is Christ's;  he has overcome sin, death and the devil, and his righteousness has become our own.  In the battle against sin, we look to his victory.  We live in this battle and we live in this victory at the same time.

We also call this "simul justus et peccator" being at the same time and completely a "saint" and a "sinner".  Both fully describe us:  we are "saints" by virtue of Christ's victory and gift and we are "sinners" due to our constant failure to live up to the standards.   We are not left to our own devices in this battle, though.  Daily we return to seek Christ's forgiveness.  We remember that we have been baptized where we have been marked as God's very own, washed clean and sanctified. We are not trying to, nor able to, earn this.   As often as possible we go to church to hear the powerful words of Christ:  "Your sins are forgiven."  As often as we can, we take his body and blood to know truly that we have been incorporated into his body and we are truly his own.   Daily, as we find that we are not "victorious" in ourselves, we return to the "victory" Christ won.  (Thanks be to God.)