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Andrew Toney

FTE Undergraduate Fellowship

Personal Essay

A Counter-cultural Orthodoxy

In one of his landmark works, The City of God, St. Augustine paints the picture of

an existence that is all too common among devoted followers of Christ. Through our

inheritance and relationship through Jesus Christ, we are members of a “City of God”

which is beyond this world; however, we are forced to physically dwell within the

earthly “City of Man.” This duplicitous existence creates a conundrum for the

believer: How do we best represent Christ and participate in Divinity while we are a

part of this world? While some argue for a strict delineation between living for the

next life and the present, I would venture to say that we are called to be instruments

of God’s grace within the world, not to separate ourselves from it completely. This

concept is the underlying foundation for much of the way I live my life and practice

ministry toward others. The story of my life and ministry is simply the story of one

human attempting to live out the very radical nature of Jesus Christ, in every aspect

of life: I am called to be counter-cultural.

Very recently, I had the pleasure of hearing a very wise man and close friend

speak about the concept of Sabbath in an unconventional way. In discussing

Sabbath, he pointed to Scripture to reveal how Sabbath time (kairos) is closely

related to the way we commune with God. In Scripture, Sabbath means much more

than simply a day of the week for certain rules to be followed and work to be

stopped. In the fullest sense of the word, Sabbath is a fundamental reorientation of

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one’s life. The work that we do in this life leads toward Sabbath, not the other way

around. We don’t rest in order to work; in fact, the contrary is true. We work in

order to rest, in order to commune with God. I often feel that the temptation in

ministry is to collapse on days of rest, instead of use them as an orientation for the

way to live one’s life. The theme of Sabbath runs throughout Scripture. In Leviticus

25, God actually commands the Israelites to practice both (a) a Sabbatical year and

(b) a year of Jubilee, in which all debts are cancelled, and the distribution of

property is reconfigured in order to fit everyone’s needs. Though there is no record

of the Israelites ever accomplishing this practice, it struck me that in God’s decree,

justice is inextricably linked to Sabbath. Hence, we see that the way we affect social

and economic change in the world is wrapped up in the way that we have

communion and fellowship with God. One cannot fully exist and function without

the other. Of course, the greatest picture of this synergy that we eventually receive

is the image of Jesus Christ, a man that performs great miracles, hangs out with

undesirable people of all sorts, and challenges the economic and political systems of

the day, and yet is so intangibly close to the heart of God in all of it.

If I am to say that I am indeed a “follower of Christ,” then there is no means by

which I can refuse to live as radically in this world as He did. The fact that I wish to

be an instrument of Christ in this world necessitates that I see the intrinsic God-

given value of every single individual—male, female, black, white, Asian, African,

homeless, alcoholic, prostitute, homosexual, businessman, politician. Every single

person is of great worth in the kingdom of God, so who am I to determine who

should receive love and who should not? A guiding principle in my life and ministry
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is the idea that Christ was fundamentally anti-dominating, choosing the silent way of

the cross in contrast to the way of violence or control. Honestly, he was not quite

the kingly, politically powerful Messiah that the Israelites were expecting, no bold

king or political strategist to defeat the Romans. Often, He could have exerted

heavenly power over his opponents, but He refused. Therefore, because of the

graceful love of Jesus Christ, I refuse to be a part of any “movement” or “ideology”

that seeks to dominate, diminish, or destroy what God sees as most valuable—other

people. On the contrary, I have made it my life’s purpose to lift up the destitute and

forgotten, some of the people that our Church is not always so great at tangibly

ministering to.

God’s call on my life is bold, radical, and often nonsensical. I minister to

individuals that very few people wish to minister to, in places where very few

people wish to go, for very little reward or traditional signs of success. I’m often

tired, discouraged, frustrated, and lonely. It’s never easy. But I am always

comforted by the image of a creative Christ, who tells people to find coins in fishes’

mouths or rub mud on their eyes in order to see, a Christ who hangs out with

prostitutes and tax collectors, drunkards and misfits. It is this image of Christ that

gives me hope, courage, and the peace to know that I am a minister of justice.