A Mile Wide: Trading a Shallow Religion for a Deeper Faith

A Mile Wide: Trading a Shallow Religion for a Deeper Faith

by Brandon Hatmaker
A Mile Wide: Trading a Shallow Religion for a Deeper Faith

A Mile Wide: Trading a Shallow Religion for a Deeper Faith

by Brandon Hatmaker

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Overview

What if we’re just skimming the surface?

Christianity holds out the promise of a better way and a better day. So we’ve studied, joined more small groups, and checked all the boxes—yet, we’re still hungry for more. What if the gospel we’ve come to know is even deeper than we ever imagined? What if the same gospel that works in us to change us continues to work through us to change everything else?

Speaking from more than twenty years of experience working in the local church, Brandon Hatmaker leads us past the hurdles between our current lives and the lives we crave. He shows us how Jesus changes everything and how a greater understanding of the gospel leads to deeper faith, richer community, and more fulfilling purpose.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780718078515
Publisher: Nelson, Thomas, Inc.
Publication date: 09/13/2016
Sold by: HarperCollins Publishing
Format: eBook
Pages: 224
File size: 1 MB

About the Author

Brandon is an author, biker, TV personality, and huge fan of the underdog. He is founder and CEO of The Legacy Collective (www.LegacyCollective.org), a giving community focused on partnering, pioneering, and funding sustainable solutions to systemic social issues around the world. Brandon is author of Barefoot Church: Serving the Least in a Consumer Culture. He is married to author and speaker, Jen Hatmaker.

Read an Excerpt

A Mile Wide

Trading a Shallow Religion For a Deeper Faith


By Brandon Hatmaker

Thomas Nelson

Copyright © 2016 Brandon Hatmaker
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7180-7851-5



CHAPTER 1

A FULLER FAITH


"I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."

- JOHN 10:10


THE TENSION WAS palpable. A woman lay facedown in the shadows of the temple while her accusers stood by. As Jesus knelt in front of her, onlookers waited silently, as if frozen in time. With bated breath they anticipated his next words.

Exposed and shamed, she lay there accused ... and guilty. Everyone knew this was a serious moment. She was a woman caught in adultery, literally in the act, a crime punishable by death. Her fate was not a humane or honorable death. Anyone caught in adultery was to be given the death of a heathen: public stoning by the spiritually deserving.

"In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women," they barked at Jesus.

The bait was set.

"What do you say, [Rabbi]?" (John 8:5).

Hell-bent on publicly condemning the guilty woman, the accusers were blinded by their agenda. They could not see the double standard and hypocrisy at play. She was merely a pawn. A life discarded in a web of deceit designed by the spiritually corrupt to trap Jesus.

His eyes locked onto hers. For a moment the mob seemed to fade into the periphery. It was as if only Jesus and the woman remained. Humiliated, she struggled to raise her chin to look back at him. The moment their eyes met ... she knew she was no longer alone. Jesus would not abandon her. He would be her advocate.

The dust stirred as he began to write in the sand. The soil was as dry as her accusers' hearts, parched and in need of living water. History doesn't record what he wrote. Maybe the wind covered his words just as quickly as his finger carved out the letters.

Some believe he was listing the many sins of the accusers. I'm not convinced it matters what he wrote with his hands; with his eyes Jesus wrote mercy upon her heart, a new covenant marked by grace.

"Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her," Jesus said without looking up (John 8:7).

All he had taught, all he lived for, and all he would die for was summed up in one statement. None of us are without guilt. "There is no one righteous, not even one" (Romans 3:10).

Like the light in an opening scene when it first illuminates what's behind the curtain, Jesus' words instantly exposed the hearts of the elders. Others pursed their lips as they internally justified their actions. But as truth seized the moment, one by one they began to release their grip on the stones and walk away.

Something incredibly beautiful happened in that moment. Everyone was put in their proper place. Jesus spoke the language of everyone within earshot. As an advocate he brought both conviction and confidence.

Over and over during the course of his life, Jesus identified himself physically with our humanity and our sin. Whether on his knees or on the cross, in so many ways he lowered himself to our level. His redemption offered dignity to the lowest of the low. And with his words he spoke grace into existence:

"Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"

"No one, sir," she said.

"Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. (John 8:10–11)


She was legally guilty, yet Jesus declared her innocent.

This story reveals a crossroads for every believer. Both the religious leaders and Jesus claimed allegiance to the same God of Israel. Yet the religious held a different perspective regarding the law, how they viewed themselves, and how they viewed others.

They dug deep to accuse but skimmed the surface when looking at themselves. They applied the law to advance their agenda, minimized self-sacrifice, and prioritized anything that increased their authority, position, or wealth. Their law was to the letter. Their innocence was shallow. And their view of others lacked empathy.

For what the law was powerless to do because it was weakened by the flesh, God did by sending his own son in the likeness of sinful f lesh to be a sin offering. And so he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. (Romans 8:3–4)


For Jesus, the law was just the beginning. He revealed a new kind of grace and goodness. He felt the deepest empathy, showed the greatest compassion, and offered the fullest hope. He put himself last, and he consistently made much of others. He taught us to peel back the layers of everything to see what's beneath.

He didn't just love us; he loved us with a godly love. He didn't just lower himself to the depths of mankind by becoming man himself; he considered equality with God something not to be grasped and instead made himself the son of man. Jesus lived incredibly deep. And he invites us to join him in the depths.

So let's get digging.


A DANGEROUS REALITY

It's easy to forget that the accusers from Scripture were the religious elite. They weren't your prototypical bad guys out to overcome good with evil. They were the hyper-spiritual leaders on a mission to protect their God and their religion. And they would go through, over, and around anyone to do it. They thought they were doing good, but the letter of the law had become their god.

This is a dangerous reality. We are at risk of doing the same, and unbeknownst to us, we often do. Our sin nature would have us choose sides, check lists, and oversimplify truth nearly every time. When we do so, we become like the accusers.

We are easily blinded when we slip into this shallow way of religion. It comes hand in hand with clouded vision and disillusionment. On paper we're doing what is right, so we can check the box and move on without conviction. We clearly see everyone else's shortcomings. We ourselves are legally without fault, so why would we have to consider how our actions affect or neglect others? Why worry about the abstract implications or collateral damage of our actions, posture, or words when what we've done or said was not technically wrong?

I guess the main reason is because that's exactly what Jesus spent the majority of his life teaching us to do: to love our neighbors. We are to consider deeply how the application of what we believe impacts how others view him and his kingdom. It's an exchange in how we think about everything.

Paul championed this same message and warned us against a shallow view of faith in his first letter to Timothy. He reminded Timothy that when we neglect love, we become like the teachers of the law, and that our interpretive lens should always be love. It's like the legend on a map helping us set our course. How then should we live? Choose love. Every time.

"The goal of this command is love," wrote Paul, "which comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith. Some have departed from these and have turned to meaningless talk. They want to be teachers of the law, but they do not know what they are talking about or what they so confidently affirm. We know that the law is good if one uses it properly" (1 Timothy 1:5–8).

Jesus couldn't have been clearer. He spoke directly to this when quizzed by the teachers of the law (Matthew 22:36–40). What is the greatest commandment? they asked. To love God and love others, Jesus replied. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two.

Jesus came to rip the scales off our religious eyes to show us the heart behind the letters. He moved from judgment to grace and chose love over law and people over position. His gospel was for all, his community was inclusive, his discipleship was holistic, his mission was eternal, and his kingdom was vast. Everything about Jesus and his dream for us was bigger, wider, and deeper than we can imagine.

And in order to live a fuller faith, we must go on one of the greatest journeys of a believer's life: a journey down. As the rest of the world challenges us to keep climbing the ladder, Jesus repeatedly challenges us to descend. In an ironic twist, it's there in the depths that we find full life. But it doesn't come naturally. We have to check every motive, evaluate every decision, and be intentional with every pursuit. It's a constant discipline we have to learn to apply, and it starts with recognizing and understanding our need for depth.


RECOGNIZING OUR NEED FOR DEPTH

My dog has a fear of missing out (FOMO). And to be honest with you, it can be fairly entertaining. I think it has to do with the fact that she doesn't know she's a dog. She thinks she's one of the kids. In my family we've shortened the description of this reality to the initials F.O.M.O., pronounced just like it reads: "Fo-Mo." Makes for a great Twitter hashtag: #FOMO.

You can clearly see it when the house starts to bustle each morning. Everyone starts loading backpacks for school and eating breakfast ... and there is Ladybird, underfoot. Staring puppy-dog eyes, ears laid back, and scared to death we're leaving for vacation instead of for the day. She's afraid she'll be left behind.

It's the same when the boys and their friends run down the stairs and quickly out the back door. Lady can come out of a dead sleep in the living room and magically transport herself to the window facing the yard. There they are, boys outside doing their thing, and Ladybird staring through the glass, tail wagging, waiting, vicariously living through their adventure. Wishing she was with them.

I think some of us have spiritual FOMO.

Most believers I know would say they thirst for more. "I want to go deeper," "I need to be fed," and "There's got to be more" are commonly heard inside and outside of the local church.

Spiritual FOMO is intrinsically a good thing. We are wired to crave more of God. So when we feel as if something is missing, it triggers a response that says, "Hey, whatever it is that I'm experiencing ... it's not enough. There's something else."

And there usually is.

Our desire for "more" can come from either a healthy or an unhealthy place. Some of us have a healthy desire to know God more. We've "tasted and seen," and it's changed everything (Psalm 34:8). We've experienced firsthand the fullness of Christ and want more. But some of us are suffering the pangs of spiritual malnutrition. We want more because we need more. We're scraping by each day hearing about the feast but rarely dining at the table.

The reason for our craving typically determines our response. Ironically, the bigger the void, the more desperately we search and the more likely we are to find substance. There's an emptiness we must experience in order to strip ourselves of all earthly recovery. It's a place where the only option is whatever God provides. It's a pure place. A necessary place.

On the flip side, for those of us who've encountered Jesus deeply, when we're hungry for more, we tend to return to the same table we've already experienced. We add another Bible study, join a new small group, start a new accountability group, or attend another worship service. We're doing more of the same things, expecting different results. Like a hamster on a wheel, we're working harder but not going any farther. We're hoping to create new depth, but instead we end up spreading ourselves thin. And there we are: a mile wide and an inch deep.

To avoid this phenomenon and actually move forward, let's discuss three key areas in which we are designed for more depth. While we'll dig into each in the coming chapters, let's first take a moment to name them so we can see where we personally might most need to dig in.

1. Depth in understanding. This is the most obvious area and is simply the desire to go deeper into God's Word. It is so very necessary. Simply put, we need to know what the Bible says. But we have to pursue truth with the right intentions. The teachers of the law loved knowledge for knowledge's sake and frequently missed the point and certainly missed the person of Jesus. Knowledge became their pursuit, and it resulted in pride. Learning but not living leads to a shallow life every time.

2. Depth in relationships. We each need a place where we can confess our deepest struggles and be received with an equally deep empathy and desire for healing. Unfortunately, we have a problem in the church with vulnerability, which is closely tied to the fear of judgment. Thus, many of us remain guarded and struggle to crack the nut on true community.

3. Depth in spirit. The Spirit urges us, leads us, and comforts us in different ways. At times the Spirit may move boldly and quickly, and at others he may whisper only when we are still and quiet. It's possible to be committed to Bible study, live in biblical community, yet be completely void of any spiritual vitality or depth. Maybe you're running the race but feeling spiritually malnourished.


It's important to take a look at our lives and see how we're doing in each of these areas. If we're honest, it probably won't take too much effort to find our weak spots. Are we biblically shallow, neglecting to learn the Scriptures or, worse, to apply the Scriptures we've learned? Are we relationally shallow, engaging in superficial relationships yet hungering for more vulnerability? Or are we spiritually shallow, going through all the motions of Christianity but neglecting the leadership of the Holy Spirit?

None of these is more dangerous than the other. Each can result in a feeling of or fear of missing out. But not one of them puts us beyond recovery.


UNDERSTANDING OUR NEED FOR DEPTH

For the majority of my life, whenever I felt that I was missing out (#FOMO), needed a word from God, or simply was not feeling as close to Christ as I needed to be, I would instantly assume I needed to do more. My natural response was to grow by adding something to my schedule. I hoped that by making myself busier doing church things, I would intuitively experience more Christian depth. But I didn't. I was just busier and had less time to slow down, be still, think, or listen. I did more but gave less to each endeavor. I became a jack-of-all-trades, but master of none.

A quick look at our calendars might give us an indicator as to whether we're spiritually thriving or just getting by.

Width does not create depth. If anything, it's the opposite. In many ways it's depth that determines our capacity for width. Jesus taught this concept in the parable of the four soils (parable of the sower), a beautiful illustration of how the receptivity and condition of our hearts determines the fullness of our faith. Each condition assumes a certain level of depth and a certain quality of depth.

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore. Then he told them many things in parables, saying: "A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop — a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. Whoever has ears, let them hear."

The disciples came to him and asked, "Why do you speak to the people in parables?"

He replied, "Because the knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them." (Matthew 13:1-11)


It's important to frame this parable well. It's meant to be a diagnosis, not a prognosis, and the central point is found in verse 9: "Whoever has ears, let them hear."

This is meant to be a temperature check, and we are all in need of spiritual examination. Humans are famously un-self-aware. We can see other people's flaws so much more clearly than we see our own. Yet, we are all soil in this story, not soil inspectors. We're not capable of that, because a lot of soil looks the same on the surface. The only person, besides Jesus, who can dig honestly beneath the surface of our hearts is us.

And here's the good news. Our diagnosis is not permanent, or inevitable. In fact, we are rarely just one type of soil all the time. I have been all four and at times have two coexisting soil types. I have receptive depth in one area but am shallow and hardened in another.

We manage a weird paradox where we can be both un-self-aware and also incredibly self-condemning. This parable should lead us to neither denial nor condemnation. Regardless of our circumstances, even the worst soil can be brought back to life.

We've all got ears, so the central question to ask of ourselves is: What kind of listener am I? Essentially we're asking, How deep is my receptivity? How do I typically receive God's Word, his instruction, his leadership, his ways? And what's getting in the way?

Before we look at the soils themselves, it's interesting to take a look at the disciples' response to this story. They wanted people to understand who Jesus was, yet Jesus was making it hard on them. Their desire to make things easy was getting in the way of them understanding the depth of his teaching.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from A Mile Wide by Brandon Hatmaker. Copyright © 2016 Brandon Hatmaker. Excerpted by permission of Thomas Nelson.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Introduction, xiii,
CHAPTER 1: A Fuller Faith, 1,
PART I: THE GOSPEL IN US,
CHAPTER 2: A Bigger Gospel, 23,
CHAPTER 3: A New Identity, 45,
CHAPTER 4: A Deeper Discipleship, 63,
CHAPTER 5: A Better Community, 87,
PART II: THE GOSPEL THROUGH US,
CHAPTER 6: A Closer Kingdom, 119,
CHAPTER 7: A Truer Mission, 135,
CHAPTER 8: A Growing Justice, 153,
CHAPTER 9: A Fresh Perspective, 173,
Acknowledgments, 199,
Notes, 201,
About the Author, 205,

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