I've never been much for stretching before or after a workout. Stretching always seemed optional, something that you could do if you wanted to, but not really necessary. And, in one sense, I was right. When I was younger, I could set out cold on a 5-mile run, or leave a round of weights in the gym, hit the shower, and go on with my day without much problem. Plus, stretching hurts. It's painful, and it's time-consuming: two things, neither of which I'm too fond of. The older I get, however, the more I'm realizing the importance of stretching. Without stretching, my muscles hurt worse when I workout, they become stiff, hardened, and inflexible. If I don't stretch knots in my neck and back come easier, and my shoulders get a little hunched. My muscles also find every way they can to cheat during workouts. They "remember" the routines so they can do the least amount of work possible. Stretching forces them to move, to bend, to change, to grow in ways that even weights can't.
Here's the thing: the principle that works in the gym, also works in my Christian life as well. Stretching is essential. It's imperative that I'm constantly finding ways to be stretched in my walk with Christ, especially the older I get. Just like my muscles do in a physical sense, it's so easy to find myself becoming hardened and inflexible, it's so easy to live on past spiritual insights, doctrines, and the things about this life that I already know how to do, so that I end up doing the least amount of "real, new work" possible and still give the appearance of fighting and running and lifting and growing. And, yes, just like in the gym, stretching hurts, and it is often time consuming, which is actually a blessing. It is the thing that will make my workouts more effective on the front end, and put me in the right frame of mind as I go out into the world so that people meet someone soft and flexible, not hardened and unbending.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Between the Lines
I have to pass the college where I teach on the Interstate to get to the exit, so I can wind my way back around to where it's built. As I've made the drive almost daily for the past eleven weeks, I'm struck by how small and unassuming the building looks. Even though it faces the interstate and has the name of the school in large letters on the front, it sits behind some trees, lower than the interstate, and at 70 (or more) miles per hour, it can be easy to miss. In fact, I'm not sure before I started teaching there I even noticed it. And yet, it's a place that's full of activity. Hundreds of cars come in and out of its parking lot every day. Vendors come, deliveries are made, and it functions like buildings do, whether anyone notices or not. Not only that, but it's a college. It's a place where learning happens. It's a place where ideas are formed, batted around, discussed. Where opinions are strengthened, broken down, changed, and then remade into something, hopefully, stronger and more thoughtful. Quietly, sitting there by the interstate, with the traffic of life speeding by, a really fascinating story is being written, "inside the four walls."
And, here's the thing: that's how it is with a lot of my students as well. See, where I teach, many of the students don't come from society considers ideal backgrounds for pursuing higher education. They work hard to make it to class each night after working all day. They fight to stay focused on their goals, sometimes without much encouragement from their families or friends. They are there, sitting in class, trying to focus on computer programming and thesis statements, when their minds are wandering to thoughts of paying for babysitters, or where the gas money to get home will come from. And sometimes, because of circumstances or preconceived notions that many people have, they can be easy to miss, easy to look over, easy to pass by and think, much like the building that houses the school, that they're "just another group of Tech School students."
And yet, that's not the case at all. As I've walked the halls every day this quarter, interacted with them, and listened to what they have to say, I've learned so much about the stories that are being written "within their four walls." Stories of courage, grief, sadness, tremendous happiness, and hope. Stories that deserve and need to be told, even as they are still being written. Stories that shouldn't be overlooked, because the traffic of what passes for "normal life" is speeding by at such a rate that it becomes necessary, for efficiency's sake, to develop file folders to put everything in ("just another building," "just another student"). Stories that are sometimes hard to see in the midst of the trees. Stories that leave you changed.
And, here's the thing: that's how it is with a lot of my students as well. See, where I teach, many of the students don't come from society considers ideal backgrounds for pursuing higher education. They work hard to make it to class each night after working all day. They fight to stay focused on their goals, sometimes without much encouragement from their families or friends. They are there, sitting in class, trying to focus on computer programming and thesis statements, when their minds are wandering to thoughts of paying for babysitters, or where the gas money to get home will come from. And sometimes, because of circumstances or preconceived notions that many people have, they can be easy to miss, easy to look over, easy to pass by and think, much like the building that houses the school, that they're "just another group of Tech School students."
And yet, that's not the case at all. As I've walked the halls every day this quarter, interacted with them, and listened to what they have to say, I've learned so much about the stories that are being written "within their four walls." Stories of courage, grief, sadness, tremendous happiness, and hope. Stories that deserve and need to be told, even as they are still being written. Stories that shouldn't be overlooked, because the traffic of what passes for "normal life" is speeding by at such a rate that it becomes necessary, for efficiency's sake, to develop file folders to put everything in ("just another building," "just another student"). Stories that are sometimes hard to see in the midst of the trees. Stories that leave you changed.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Partying Like the Pagans
If you buy into this whole idea of God not only allowing but actually commanding his people to stop, in the middle of the desert, and take time to celebrate, the next question should be, "Okay, but how?" It's a good question, and one that I think followers of Christ are pretty confused about. I grew up in an environment where Christians were encouraged to be different from the world in the hopes the world would take notice and begin asking questions about what made us different. And, while I don't think this is a bad attitude or tactic to take, it does seem to create in many believers' minds (mine being one of those) the idea that we can't or shouldn't do anything the world would see as fun: we, prayed in the New Year, instead of having parties; we had wedding receptions in the fellowship hall instead of at clubs; we had Fall (or Harvest) Festivals instead of going trick-or-treating.
Now, please understand, the heart and intent behind all these things are good, and there's even a lot about the methodology that I think is right and missing from grace-driven ministries. (There are many times when I worry I'm becoming too much like the world, and this is something to be warred against just as much as the legalism and pseudo-piety of the previous examples.) The problem came, not in what we did, but in the fear that seemed to lay constantly under the surface that we were going to end up being "just like the world." That no one would be able to tell a difference between us and them, and everything we did was evaluated by this method.
Here's the thing: I don't see as much of a concern about that in the celebrations and feasts God instituted for his people as they wandered in the wilderness. Now, to be sure, there was a major difference in the object of celebration for the Hebrews and the pagan cultures that lived around them, and this did permeate into certain areas of the parties, but if we were to walk into the Israelite camp during a festival, I'm not sure we'd be able to tell that much of a difference between their celebrations and those of say, the Canaanites. There was lots of food, lots of loud music, lots of dancing, yes, lots of drinking, and a spirit of raucous and chaos that would make most believers uncomfortable. In fact, the practices of the celebrations were so close to what the pagans did, that Israel actually crossed over into sin on several occasions of pagan worship, slipping away from the original object of their celebration. God didn't like it, and he punished them greatly for that, but he never took away the festivals. He never changed the methods. He never said, "The risk is too great for them to slip into idolatry, so therefore, no more celebrations." Instead, he seemed to want them to party and celebrate with more than enthusiasm and yet still hold on to his command to have NO other gods before him.
What a different viewpoint than I tend to have! Instead of trying to stay as far away as I can from "the line" of sin, God set up a system in which the Israelites seemed to constantly flirt with it. Why? Was he testing them? Maybe. Was he setting them up to fail? Doubtful. Instead, I think he encouraged this kind of celebration because he knew better than anyone else just how worthy he is of as much exuberance as a human being can muster, and then some. Besides, the pagans didn't create joy and fun and the spirit of celebration, God did! So often, as believers, I think we're just kind of content to let the world have what should be ours, what was ours to begin with. If the message of the Gospel is really true, if we have been given all that we claim we have, if we really are looking forward to what we say we are, Times Square on New Year's Eve should become like a high school pep rally compared to the party we would throw.
Just like the desert didn't change, neither did God nor has he. The commands to holiness and discipline and watching out for weaker brothers and sisters are still there. But could it be that he's encouraging us to risk those in an effort to praise him, to enjoy celebrating him? Certainly it's not about having bigger and better parties, but it might just be about trying to redeem partying in an effort to worship and celebrate our God in the way he deserves, and letting the accusations of being "like the world" get drowned out by the music.
Now, please understand, the heart and intent behind all these things are good, and there's even a lot about the methodology that I think is right and missing from grace-driven ministries. (There are many times when I worry I'm becoming too much like the world, and this is something to be warred against just as much as the legalism and pseudo-piety of the previous examples.) The problem came, not in what we did, but in the fear that seemed to lay constantly under the surface that we were going to end up being "just like the world." That no one would be able to tell a difference between us and them, and everything we did was evaluated by this method.
Here's the thing: I don't see as much of a concern about that in the celebrations and feasts God instituted for his people as they wandered in the wilderness. Now, to be sure, there was a major difference in the object of celebration for the Hebrews and the pagan cultures that lived around them, and this did permeate into certain areas of the parties, but if we were to walk into the Israelite camp during a festival, I'm not sure we'd be able to tell that much of a difference between their celebrations and those of say, the Canaanites. There was lots of food, lots of loud music, lots of dancing, yes, lots of drinking, and a spirit of raucous and chaos that would make most believers uncomfortable. In fact, the practices of the celebrations were so close to what the pagans did, that Israel actually crossed over into sin on several occasions of pagan worship, slipping away from the original object of their celebration. God didn't like it, and he punished them greatly for that, but he never took away the festivals. He never changed the methods. He never said, "The risk is too great for them to slip into idolatry, so therefore, no more celebrations." Instead, he seemed to want them to party and celebrate with more than enthusiasm and yet still hold on to his command to have NO other gods before him.
What a different viewpoint than I tend to have! Instead of trying to stay as far away as I can from "the line" of sin, God set up a system in which the Israelites seemed to constantly flirt with it. Why? Was he testing them? Maybe. Was he setting them up to fail? Doubtful. Instead, I think he encouraged this kind of celebration because he knew better than anyone else just how worthy he is of as much exuberance as a human being can muster, and then some. Besides, the pagans didn't create joy and fun and the spirit of celebration, God did! So often, as believers, I think we're just kind of content to let the world have what should be ours, what was ours to begin with. If the message of the Gospel is really true, if we have been given all that we claim we have, if we really are looking forward to what we say we are, Times Square on New Year's Eve should become like a high school pep rally compared to the party we would throw.
Just like the desert didn't change, neither did God nor has he. The commands to holiness and discipline and watching out for weaker brothers and sisters are still there. But could it be that he's encouraging us to risk those in an effort to praise him, to enjoy celebrating him? Certainly it's not about having bigger and better parties, but it might just be about trying to redeem partying in an effort to worship and celebrate our God in the way he deserves, and letting the accusations of being "like the world" get drowned out by the music.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Porch Swings
Here's the thing: I found this great summertime drink, thanks to a buddy of mine who lives in Atlanta. Read my two previous blog posts, click here, make the drink, light some citronella candles, sit outside, gather some friends, and reflect on the goodness of God in your life. (You might even start to celebrate a little!)
One hint, the cucumbers are a must!
One hint, the cucumbers are a must!
Celebrating in the Sand
So, this is the next stop in my thinking about joy and the Christian life. If you missed the first post, just click here.
The Israelites have been brought out of Egypt, liberated by the Lord, on their way to the land that he'd promised them long ago. A land, according to Exodus 3:8, "flowing with milk and honey." And yet, to get there, they had to pass through the desert. Reading the book of Exodus, there's no way for anyone to confuse that it was God who brought them out of Egypt, nor that it was his decision to take them through the desert, the "long way" as it were, to get to their destination. He had a purpose. Actually, he had several. He wanted them to learn to trust him. He wanted to teach them his ordinances and his laws. He wanted to test their faith and their obedience. He wanted to "fit them" to inherit the land that he had set aside for them. Much of the books of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy are the accounts of this "fitting," of God sanctifying his people for the new life he had prepared for them. The really cool thing about these accounts is that none of them try to make this process sound like anything other than what it was: hard. The Israelites were in the desert, it was hot, there were a lot of them, and they had to move in this sort of cumbersome herd. They needed water, they needed food. They didn't know where they were nor where they were going, and in the midst of all this. In the moments of testing and sanctifying, God instituted festivals and feasts, times when he instructed his people to stop and party.
Depending on how you count and what you count, there are anywhere from 10-12 times every year that God told his people to stop working and party. Sometimes these were more solemn: Passover (Exodus 12:1-14; Leviticus 23:5; Numbers 9:1-14;28:16; Deuteronomy 16:1-3a;4b-7) and Firstfruits (Leviticus 23:9-14), but other times they were just loud expressions of joy: Feast of the Tabernacle or Booths (43; Numbers 29:12-34; Deuteronomy 16:13-15; Zechariah 14:16-19) and Trumpets (Leviticus 23:23-25; Numbers 29:1-6). Times designed for people to be joyful, happy, and in a mood of celebration. Times when music was played, when the entire camp would be filled with the aroma of animals being given as burnt offerings. Times when no "ordinary" work should be done, but instead the work of celebrating was the order of the day.
Now, here's the thing: if I'd been there, I probably would have been that guy saying, "Wait a minute, we're in the desert! Don't you see all this sand around you! You know as well as I do how hard it is to grow grain here, to keep our bulls alive and fed, and now we're gonna just burn them. What about if we need them tomorrow? What will we do then? God has already tested us before by having us wander over hard and difficult paths, what if he does that again? Besides, partying and celebrating are for those who don't really understand our God. He's a serious God. Not some frivolous thing to just blow trumpets at." To use the modern day vernacular: every party has a pooper, that's why we invited you!
The interesting thing about these feats and festivals is that God commanded the people to celebrate, and for hundreds of years, the morning after each celebration, they woke up still in the desert. The sand hadn't magically disappeared, and the daily grind was still there. And yet God commanded praise, he commanded celebration. And, lest we think these were anything subdued or quiet, just imagine over five thousand people shouting, laughing, blowing trumpets, and in a party mood. It was loud, it was chaotic, it was (dare I say it) fun!
How does this look practically? Well, I've got some thoughts about that coming soon. For now, I'm just simmering in the idea that celebration isn't just okay, it's commanded, and that I have been far too disobedient for far too long.
The Israelites have been brought out of Egypt, liberated by the Lord, on their way to the land that he'd promised them long ago. A land, according to Exodus 3:8, "flowing with milk and honey." And yet, to get there, they had to pass through the desert. Reading the book of Exodus, there's no way for anyone to confuse that it was God who brought them out of Egypt, nor that it was his decision to take them through the desert, the "long way" as it were, to get to their destination. He had a purpose. Actually, he had several. He wanted them to learn to trust him. He wanted to teach them his ordinances and his laws. He wanted to test their faith and their obedience. He wanted to "fit them" to inherit the land that he had set aside for them. Much of the books of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy are the accounts of this "fitting," of God sanctifying his people for the new life he had prepared for them. The really cool thing about these accounts is that none of them try to make this process sound like anything other than what it was: hard. The Israelites were in the desert, it was hot, there were a lot of them, and they had to move in this sort of cumbersome herd. They needed water, they needed food. They didn't know where they were nor where they were going, and in the midst of all this. In the moments of testing and sanctifying, God instituted festivals and feasts, times when he instructed his people to stop and party.
Depending on how you count and what you count, there are anywhere from 10-12 times every year that God told his people to stop working and party. Sometimes these were more solemn: Passover (Exodus 12:1-14; Leviticus 23:5; Numbers 9:1-14;28:16; Deuteronomy 16:1-3a;4b-7) and Firstfruits (Leviticus 23:9-14), but other times they were just loud expressions of joy: Feast of the Tabernacle or Booths (43; Numbers 29:12-34; Deuteronomy 16:13-15; Zechariah 14:16-19) and Trumpets (Leviticus 23:23-25; Numbers 29:1-6). Times designed for people to be joyful, happy, and in a mood of celebration. Times when music was played, when the entire camp would be filled with the aroma of animals being given as burnt offerings. Times when no "ordinary" work should be done, but instead the work of celebrating was the order of the day.
Now, here's the thing: if I'd been there, I probably would have been that guy saying, "Wait a minute, we're in the desert! Don't you see all this sand around you! You know as well as I do how hard it is to grow grain here, to keep our bulls alive and fed, and now we're gonna just burn them. What about if we need them tomorrow? What will we do then? God has already tested us before by having us wander over hard and difficult paths, what if he does that again? Besides, partying and celebrating are for those who don't really understand our God. He's a serious God. Not some frivolous thing to just blow trumpets at." To use the modern day vernacular: every party has a pooper, that's why we invited you!
The interesting thing about these feats and festivals is that God commanded the people to celebrate, and for hundreds of years, the morning after each celebration, they woke up still in the desert. The sand hadn't magically disappeared, and the daily grind was still there. And yet God commanded praise, he commanded celebration. And, lest we think these were anything subdued or quiet, just imagine over five thousand people shouting, laughing, blowing trumpets, and in a party mood. It was loud, it was chaotic, it was (dare I say it) fun!
How does this look practically? Well, I've got some thoughts about that coming soon. For now, I'm just simmering in the idea that celebration isn't just okay, it's commanded, and that I have been far too disobedient for far too long.
The E-vite
I have long understood and lived with the mindset that the Christian life, at least my Christian life, is like living on a clock pendulum, constantly swinging from one side to the other, rarely spending much if any time in the middle. I'm in one of those times right now, specifically as it relates to God's sovereignty and our joy. As I've grown in my understanding and belief in the absolute sovereignty of God, one of the things I've had to deal with is the fact that bad things happen to Christians living in a fallen world, and that this has nothing to do with a lack of faith, or unconfessed sin, it's just the reality of life, even to the point of accepting (which I'm very ready to do) that God ordains suffering and trials and "bad" things in my life for days, weeks, and even seasons to accomplish his will. As I've become more comfortable with this doctrine, which I really do believe is Biblical, two things have happened: I've begun to see trials and suffering as a natural, normal thing, and expect that they will come, and it's become harder for me to rejoice in the good things, the relief, that are also a part of the normal Christian life. The first one is healthy and right, the second one is not.
As far as the issue of trials and suffering being normal and being ordained by God, I'm there. I've long since given up on the hopelessness that comes from seeing suffering and trials as somehow my fault for not having enough faith or not confessing my sin fast enough. I played that game for a long time, and trust me, you don't want to go there. Not only is it unbiblical, it's also exhausting, defeating, and puts a lot of the burden for living this life on me, a very scary proposition.
On the other hand, I'm more and more troubled by how my mind has moved--and I see this in others around me who are understanding these truths for the first time as well--from an acceptance of a suffering and trials to a "grit-your-teeth-and-bear-it" mentality that too often views the Christian life as something to suck it up and get through, while waiting on the next Providential shoe to drop. (In many ways this is no different than those Christians who view this world as utterly and completely evil, without hope, and who wait for Christ to come back and snatch them out of the mess.) And, when there are those moments of blessing and joy, I find myself enjoying them reservedly, not because I don't think God wants me too, but because I don't want to take my eye off the trail, in case I get distracted and step on a landmine.
Here's the thing: this has been the recipe for a resistance to joy in my life, and that scares me. I worry about what it says about me, my view of God, and my misunderstanding of Scriptures. Surely there's got be a way in which I can live the Christian life, not as some naive Peter Pan, thinking life is all about being happy, and then when trials and sufferings come my way, being totally devastated because I think it's my fault somehow, and that I need to work harder to get God's blessing about, and yet at the same time, not be so consumed in accepting the trials and sufferings of life, that I can't "rejoice in the Lord always" (Philippians 4:4).
The world needs to know that Christians aren't perfect, that we struggle with things, and we don't expect the Gospel to "fix" us and make everything fine and dandy, but they also need to see us having joy in the midst of the pain, otherwise, why would they need to accept it? After all, they've already got the pain.
I think the answer lies in the Old Testament. In God's instruction of Israel, while they were in the desert. Sand for miles around. No food. No water. All apart of his plan in leading them out of bondage and into the Promised Land. He told them to pray, he told them to sacrifice, he told them to obey, but he also told them to party. There's something here, and I need to explore it more.
As far as the issue of trials and suffering being normal and being ordained by God, I'm there. I've long since given up on the hopelessness that comes from seeing suffering and trials as somehow my fault for not having enough faith or not confessing my sin fast enough. I played that game for a long time, and trust me, you don't want to go there. Not only is it unbiblical, it's also exhausting, defeating, and puts a lot of the burden for living this life on me, a very scary proposition.
On the other hand, I'm more and more troubled by how my mind has moved--and I see this in others around me who are understanding these truths for the first time as well--from an acceptance of a suffering and trials to a "grit-your-teeth-and-bear-it" mentality that too often views the Christian life as something to suck it up and get through, while waiting on the next Providential shoe to drop. (In many ways this is no different than those Christians who view this world as utterly and completely evil, without hope, and who wait for Christ to come back and snatch them out of the mess.) And, when there are those moments of blessing and joy, I find myself enjoying them reservedly, not because I don't think God wants me too, but because I don't want to take my eye off the trail, in case I get distracted and step on a landmine.
Here's the thing: this has been the recipe for a resistance to joy in my life, and that scares me. I worry about what it says about me, my view of God, and my misunderstanding of Scriptures. Surely there's got be a way in which I can live the Christian life, not as some naive Peter Pan, thinking life is all about being happy, and then when trials and sufferings come my way, being totally devastated because I think it's my fault somehow, and that I need to work harder to get God's blessing about, and yet at the same time, not be so consumed in accepting the trials and sufferings of life, that I can't "rejoice in the Lord always" (Philippians 4:4).
The world needs to know that Christians aren't perfect, that we struggle with things, and we don't expect the Gospel to "fix" us and make everything fine and dandy, but they also need to see us having joy in the midst of the pain, otherwise, why would they need to accept it? After all, they've already got the pain.
I think the answer lies in the Old Testament. In God's instruction of Israel, while they were in the desert. Sand for miles around. No food. No water. All apart of his plan in leading them out of bondage and into the Promised Land. He told them to pray, he told them to sacrifice, he told them to obey, but he also told them to party. There's something here, and I need to explore it more.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
More Summer. . . and Fall Reading
Newsweek published a list of "Fifty Books for Our Time." I love lists like this. I scanned through it, and am sad to say that I haven't read any of them and haven't even heard of most of them. Here's the thing: I'm thinking about working this into my reading time, and going for the challenge. Why not, right? Certainly some of them will be duds, but what's a better use of my time than this.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Summer Reading List
Looking for a good book to catch up with this summer? Here are three suggestions:
The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer -- It will grab your heart and never let go. I was never the same after I read this book, and I re-read it every couple of years to be reminded of the truth that's there.
1776 by David McCullough -- I know it's a few years old now, but in the midst of the times this country is going through today, it's as relevant as ever. McCullough writes for the non-history buff, so don't be intimidated.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson -- File this under the category of "Books I Should Have Read in High School but Never Did." Also count it as one of the best examples of the dual nature of man ever to be written down. You will understand yourself (and everyone around you) better after you read this one.
If you get a chance to read any of them, let me know what you think.
The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer -- It will grab your heart and never let go. I was never the same after I read this book, and I re-read it every couple of years to be reminded of the truth that's there.
1776 by David McCullough -- I know it's a few years old now, but in the midst of the times this country is going through today, it's as relevant as ever. McCullough writes for the non-history buff, so don't be intimidated.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson -- File this under the category of "Books I Should Have Read in High School but Never Did." Also count it as one of the best examples of the dual nature of man ever to be written down. You will understand yourself (and everyone around you) better after you read this one.
If you get a chance to read any of them, let me know what you think.
Monday, June 22, 2009
There Was a Farmer. . . Who Was a Father
Once upon a time there was a man named Bill. He was a dairy farmer in a small town in Alabama. If you were writing a book or short story about the life and adventures of a small town farmer, he would have been tailor-made for the part: honest, hard working, someone who knew his stuff, a war vet. Not that his life was storybook. From what I hear, there were times when folks tried to take advantage of him, and looked down on him. But, if the stories they tell in Florette are true, he met each hardship with grace, choosing never to reciprocate any of the negativity thrown his way. I met him later in his life. After the farm was officially closed, the barns starting to fall apart, and the cows long gone, and yet it wasn't hard to see that in fact the stories they tell in Florette about Bill are in fact true. There was an underlying sweetness about him that seemed to defy the conventional farmer stereotypes of the hard men who became stoic after years of hard work and uncertainty. This farmer didn't have that. This farmer was also a father. He had a daughter and a son, and he raised them along with his wife. They grew up, learned how to do chores, and experienced all the things kids enjoy and remember about life on the farm.
Then, circumstances and life being what they are sometimes in this fallen world, later on, this farmer became a father again. This time to another son. Yes, technically, it was his grandson, but if the stories the guy who lives in the other room at my house tells are true, Bill was a father to him in every sense of the word. He loved him, cared for him, looked after him, provided for him, and gave him a sense of place and purpose in the uncertainty this new son found himself in. Genetics helped by giving the new son his grand-father's smile, but it was on long walks, those times of riding around the farm in the truck, those moments so private, that the young boy was given his father's heart, his tenderness, his love and concern for others.
Another chapter of this story played out recently, as Bill died, and as I've been thinking about and walking through this part of the drama with my roommate, I've been struck at how once, long ago, another father had a son. In fact, they'd been together since before there was even time, and they were closer than any father and son has ever been or will ever be. This father and son were one, distinct, and yet the same. Then, circumstances and life being what they are in this fallen world, this father became a father again. This time he did it by adopting people like me, giving us a purpose, a sense of place, a future and a hope. Creation helped by giving us his image, but it's by spending time with him, and his working to conform us to the image of his first son, that we are given his heart. And, much like Bill waited with anticipation, at the end of the long driveway that runs from the road to the farmhouse (and later from inside the farmhouse when he was too weak to be out) for his new son, his second son to come home, this other father waits as well for his adopted children, his new sons and daughters to come and be with him and enjoy him and sit together and learn more about his heart, and leave with more stories to tell.
Then, circumstances and life being what they are sometimes in this fallen world, later on, this farmer became a father again. This time to another son. Yes, technically, it was his grandson, but if the stories the guy who lives in the other room at my house tells are true, Bill was a father to him in every sense of the word. He loved him, cared for him, looked after him, provided for him, and gave him a sense of place and purpose in the uncertainty this new son found himself in. Genetics helped by giving the new son his grand-father's smile, but it was on long walks, those times of riding around the farm in the truck, those moments so private, that the young boy was given his father's heart, his tenderness, his love and concern for others.
Another chapter of this story played out recently, as Bill died, and as I've been thinking about and walking through this part of the drama with my roommate, I've been struck at how once, long ago, another father had a son. In fact, they'd been together since before there was even time, and they were closer than any father and son has ever been or will ever be. This father and son were one, distinct, and yet the same. Then, circumstances and life being what they are in this fallen world, this father became a father again. This time he did it by adopting people like me, giving us a purpose, a sense of place, a future and a hope. Creation helped by giving us his image, but it's by spending time with him, and his working to conform us to the image of his first son, that we are given his heart. And, much like Bill waited with anticipation, at the end of the long driveway that runs from the road to the farmhouse (and later from inside the farmhouse when he was too weak to be out) for his new son, his second son to come home, this other father waits as well for his adopted children, his new sons and daughters to come and be with him and enjoy him and sit together and learn more about his heart, and leave with more stories to tell.
Poison Ivy and My Selfishness
Over the weekend, a group of us went to help a friend's grandmother clean up around the house of the farm she lives on. It was a massive undertaking, and our energy gave out long before the list of things that needed to be done did. We were warned to be on the look-out for snakes, poison oak, and poison ivy, as all three are summer residents on the farm. I started out with the weed-eater, acutely on the look-out for snakes, but not too worried about poison ivy and/or poison oak, since I've never been allergic to it. At one point, a couple of buddies and I finished throwing limbs we'd cut onto a pile to be burned, and immediately one of them said, "Okay, let's go wash our hands, 'cause there was poison ivy all over those limbs." I hadn't even noticed the poison ivy, and as I thought more about it, I realized that I didn't even know what poison ivy looks like (poison oak either, for that matter.) Then it hit me, that I've never bothered to learn how to identify poison oak or poison ivy, because I'm not allergic to them. They don't pose a threat to me, and so I just go about my business, not too worried, unaware. Certainly, I wasn't looking out for them like I was the snakes, something that had the potential to harm me. For most of the people I was working with, poison oak and ivy can lead to days of discomfort, even potentially shots, but for me, it's a non-issue, so I'm happy to live in blind ignorance to it most of the time.
Here's the thing: through this little episode I was reminded of just how selfish I am when it comes to living life. I mean, so much of my life is lived in a state of "if it doesn't affect me, then I won't worry about it." Not allergic to poison ivy? Great. I won't even bother to learn what it looks like. Who cares if I might be able to point it out to someone else that is allergic to it. After all, it's their struggle, not mine.
Over and over again, the Bible talks about the church as a group of people who look out for one another, consider one another above themselves, put their own needs and desires on hold for the good of the group, refrain from things they have no problem with if it would cause another to struggle. In other words, it's made up of people who learn what sin--all sin--looks like, whether it affects them or not, and they are on guard, always looking out for others who might experience days, weeks, months, or even longer of problems if they were to get wrapped up in whatever it is. I'm so thankful that I'm in a church with people who look out for me and are on guard, on the lookout for potential sins that could entangle me. I pray that God will continue to take my eyes off myself and make me more into someone like that as well.
Here's the thing: through this little episode I was reminded of just how selfish I am when it comes to living life. I mean, so much of my life is lived in a state of "if it doesn't affect me, then I won't worry about it." Not allergic to poison ivy? Great. I won't even bother to learn what it looks like. Who cares if I might be able to point it out to someone else that is allergic to it. After all, it's their struggle, not mine.
Over and over again, the Bible talks about the church as a group of people who look out for one another, consider one another above themselves, put their own needs and desires on hold for the good of the group, refrain from things they have no problem with if it would cause another to struggle. In other words, it's made up of people who learn what sin--all sin--looks like, whether it affects them or not, and they are on guard, always looking out for others who might experience days, weeks, months, or even longer of problems if they were to get wrapped up in whatever it is. I'm so thankful that I'm in a church with people who look out for me and are on guard, on the lookout for potential sins that could entangle me. I pray that God will continue to take my eyes off myself and make me more into someone like that as well.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Little Marks
This week I began each of my Comp classes by having the students write from two different prompts. I made them for ten minutes. I told them I didn't care about grammar, spelling, even complete sentences. If they couldn't think of anything to write, I told them to copy (and re-copy, if necessary) what they'd already written. Some loved it, some hated it. Some just sat there, looking pitiful as if this was the longest, and most painful ten minutes of their life.
See, the school I teach at is a "technical school." Most of the students that attend this school don't have an affinity for writing, they don't enjoy it, they're even afraid of it. They will talk all day long, but there's something terrifying about putting their thoughts, feelings, and ideas down on paper, and that's what I wanted them to do. Without a lot of pressure, without a lot of stipulations about the "rules of writing," I just wanted to help them take a step toward not being so afraid or paralyzed every time someone tells them to write about "x."
Here's the thing: this is how I am when God tells me to try something spiritually, something he's designed for my good. There's just something about God telling me to do something that causes the knees to shake, the sweat to start pouring, and hundreds of excuses to come pouring forth. It's like I instantly become a reincarnation of Moses--standing before a bush that's on fire but not burning, hearing the voice of God, knowing that the Almighty God of the Universe is the one sending him to do something, hearing the promise that he'll be with him when he goes--worried about a speech impediment.
I can almost hear God saying, what I said to my students all week, "Come on, Jason, just try. I've got you. This is a safe place. I'm your Heavenly Father, and I'm not going to just leave you hanging if you screw up. In fact, I'll be smiling the entire time." So, I need to take a cue from my students, who picked up the pens and pencils in fear and started making little marks on the paper. Unsure of themselves the whole time, but choosing to trust me and my plan. Trying to believe that what I told them was true.
See, the school I teach at is a "technical school." Most of the students that attend this school don't have an affinity for writing, they don't enjoy it, they're even afraid of it. They will talk all day long, but there's something terrifying about putting their thoughts, feelings, and ideas down on paper, and that's what I wanted them to do. Without a lot of pressure, without a lot of stipulations about the "rules of writing," I just wanted to help them take a step toward not being so afraid or paralyzed every time someone tells them to write about "x."
Here's the thing: this is how I am when God tells me to try something spiritually, something he's designed for my good. There's just something about God telling me to do something that causes the knees to shake, the sweat to start pouring, and hundreds of excuses to come pouring forth. It's like I instantly become a reincarnation of Moses--standing before a bush that's on fire but not burning, hearing the voice of God, knowing that the Almighty God of the Universe is the one sending him to do something, hearing the promise that he'll be with him when he goes--worried about a speech impediment.
I can almost hear God saying, what I said to my students all week, "Come on, Jason, just try. I've got you. This is a safe place. I'm your Heavenly Father, and I'm not going to just leave you hanging if you screw up. In fact, I'll be smiling the entire time." So, I need to take a cue from my students, who picked up the pens and pencils in fear and started making little marks on the paper. Unsure of themselves the whole time, but choosing to trust me and my plan. Trying to believe that what I told them was true.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Hard to Love
Last night, I came home, and let Radley (my roommate's dog) out. I started changing clothes, and he did what he always does when we first get home, he came up to me, got as close as he could, and laid down in the floor. Clear signs that he was ready to be petted. I got changed, and decided to oblige. I got down on the floor and started petting him. Then, he did something that he's started doing more and more lately. He put his paw on my arm and started pushing me away. It's the most bizarre thing. He wants to be petted, he loves to be petted, he will interrupt whatever you're doing to let you know that he wants attention and love, and yet, when you try to do all things, when you try to give him the love he's wanting and asking for, he pushes you away. I almost don't understand. . . almost.
Here's the thing: this is what Christians do with those we're in community with all the time. We say we want true, close, authentic community. We say we want people to love us for who we are, and to get into our lives, and be close to us, and yet, so often when that happens, our first instinct is to put out our "paws" and push them away. It's like we're saying, "You can get close, but not too close," or "As long as your love and affection is on my terms, then we're fine. Just don't over do it." Maybe it's the fact that we know the closer people get, the more our sin will be exposed. Maybe we do that with people because that's what we do with God. I'm not sure.
My prayer is that I will always be someone who is always ready, when someone I'm in community needs to be shown love, that I will fight their attempts to push me away, and that I'll never tire of doing it all over again the next time they ask. And I hope I always have people in my life like that who will do the same.
Here's the thing: this is what Christians do with those we're in community with all the time. We say we want true, close, authentic community. We say we want people to love us for who we are, and to get into our lives, and be close to us, and yet, so often when that happens, our first instinct is to put out our "paws" and push them away. It's like we're saying, "You can get close, but not too close," or "As long as your love and affection is on my terms, then we're fine. Just don't over do it." Maybe it's the fact that we know the closer people get, the more our sin will be exposed. Maybe we do that with people because that's what we do with God. I'm not sure.
My prayer is that I will always be someone who is always ready, when someone I'm in community needs to be shown love, that I will fight their attempts to push me away, and that I'll never tire of doing it all over again the next time they ask. And I hope I always have people in my life like that who will do the same.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Too Much
About a month ago I came home on a Friday night to a horrible discovery, the freezer and refrigerator wasn't cold anymore, water was running everywhere, and the food was starting to thaw out. I called my go-to guy whenever there's a crisis like this (my dad), and he came over to have a look. The basic conclusion we came to was that the freezer couldn't defrost itself like it was supposed to, so everything had frozen up, and quit running. We thawed everything out, plugged it back in, and things have been fine ever since.
Here's the thing: the reason the motor in the freezer couldn't defrost itself was because air couldn't circulate on the backside of the freezer like it's designed too, and the reason air couldn't flow was because the freezer was too full of food. Did you catch that? The freezer was so jammed with food that there wasn't even enough room for air to flow! On Saturday, when I woke up to a functioning refrigerator and dry floors, my relief quickly turned to conviction. Here I was, the guy that's always wishing there was a little more money in the checking account, trying to make sure every penny is counted, and I had too much food for my freezer to handle. I couldn't help but think of the story in Exodus 16, when God gave the Israelites manna in the wilderness. Everyday the manna fell, and everyday the people were to gather just what they needed. God even commanded them not to gather more than they needed for one day, and those that did, woke up the next morning to rotting manna that stunk and had worms crawling in it. Somehow I understood as I was throwing out garbage bags full of food that had thawed and spoiled.
Now I'm not the kind of person who thinks we should feel guilty because we've been blessed by God with jobs, the resources to buy food, etc., but I was convicted and repented of my greediness, my storing away of food as if there wouldn't be enough, the fact that I just kept storing and storing and storing until the refrigerator and freezer said, "too much." Funny, somehow I feel like I should have known to say that long before.
Here's the thing: the reason the motor in the freezer couldn't defrost itself was because air couldn't circulate on the backside of the freezer like it's designed too, and the reason air couldn't flow was because the freezer was too full of food. Did you catch that? The freezer was so jammed with food that there wasn't even enough room for air to flow! On Saturday, when I woke up to a functioning refrigerator and dry floors, my relief quickly turned to conviction. Here I was, the guy that's always wishing there was a little more money in the checking account, trying to make sure every penny is counted, and I had too much food for my freezer to handle. I couldn't help but think of the story in Exodus 16, when God gave the Israelites manna in the wilderness. Everyday the manna fell, and everyday the people were to gather just what they needed. God even commanded them not to gather more than they needed for one day, and those that did, woke up the next morning to rotting manna that stunk and had worms crawling in it. Somehow I understood as I was throwing out garbage bags full of food that had thawed and spoiled.
Now I'm not the kind of person who thinks we should feel guilty because we've been blessed by God with jobs, the resources to buy food, etc., but I was convicted and repented of my greediness, my storing away of food as if there wouldn't be enough, the fact that I just kept storing and storing and storing until the refrigerator and freezer said, "too much." Funny, somehow I feel like I should have known to say that long before.
School Days
Here's the thing that's going on in my life right now: I started teaching a course at ITT Tech in Birmingham, during the Spring Quarter. After my last class, the Associate Dean offered me a full-time teaching position, starting in the Summer Quarter! So, I am now working at ITT Tech as the full-time English Comp. instructor. My first day was Monday, and so far it feels a little bit like I'm riding the rapids on white-water rafting trip: a little out of control, feeling like the boat could tip over at any minute, but having a blast! I have a full teaching load this quarter, six classes, so I'll definitely be getting my feet wet.
Most of the students who attend ITT are working full-time or returning back to school, so there are a lot of evening and night classes, and some tired faces when I walk in to start class. Add on top of that the fact that I'm teaching English and Writing, neither of which are typically held in high esteem at a technical school, and it's definitely a challenge. So far, though, it's worked, and the students are responding amazingly. (As students often do!)
I'm sure that lots of posts will come as a result of class discussions, so I wanted to give this as an intro. to what's to come. I have a feeling, I'm the one likely to get the most education in this deal.
Most of the students who attend ITT are working full-time or returning back to school, so there are a lot of evening and night classes, and some tired faces when I walk in to start class. Add on top of that the fact that I'm teaching English and Writing, neither of which are typically held in high esteem at a technical school, and it's definitely a challenge. So far, though, it's worked, and the students are responding amazingly. (As students often do!)
I'm sure that lots of posts will come as a result of class discussions, so I wanted to give this as an intro. to what's to come. I have a feeling, I'm the one likely to get the most education in this deal.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sunday School Sneak Peek
This Sunday we'll be on the second half of the "State of the Ministry Report" in Sunday School. What two areas do we as a ministry need to focus on in the coming year? What are the next steps that God is calling us too after a year of learning about, developing, and focusing on biblical community?
Join us this Sunday in Room S-180, as we try to find some answers to these questions. See you at 9:05am.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Put On a Happy Face
This past Sunday was the 20th Anniversary Celebration at my church. Now, typically, when churches are in celebration mode, and honestly, when most churches are just in everyday mode, they tend to want to put their best foot forward, right? I mean, you want to celebrate all the good things God has done in the lives of people. All the buildings that have been built. Well, not so much at Oak Mountain. Right in the middle of the service there was a 13 minute video that highlighted the history and founding of the church 20 years ago. To begin that trip down memory lane, the video started out with members of the church who have experienced or who are experiencing tremendous brokenness, grief, and/or loss.
What?! This is a celebration. You're not supposed to put "those people" and "those situations" up on the screen! I mean, that's what we whisper about, we don't want to show that kind of stuff. I don't even know if those people should be members here, anyway. I definitely don't want folks getting the wrong idea about us.
Here's the thing: there's nothing biblical about celebrating sin. Not even in the name of authenticity do we parade out our sins for the world to see in any kind of way that would glorify or sensationalize them. To the contrary, part of Christ's work on the cross is so that we can be free from the guilt and shame of past sin. At the same time, there's nothing biblical about acting like Christians have it all together. I'm so tired of Christians acting like once they put their faith in Christ that somehow they have to spend the rest of their lives acting like the people that God by his Spirit is making them into. The world, non-Christians are hurting. They're sinful and they know it, and most of them are honest enough to admit it. Why can't Christians do the same? I can't think of a better way to celebrate a church!
One of the guys in my small group on Sunday night, who just happened to join the church on Sunday morning put it so well, "After watching that video with all the hurting, broken people, I was even more thankful that this was the church I was joining."
What?! This is a celebration. You're not supposed to put "those people" and "those situations" up on the screen! I mean, that's what we whisper about, we don't want to show that kind of stuff. I don't even know if those people should be members here, anyway. I definitely don't want folks getting the wrong idea about us.
Here's the thing: there's nothing biblical about celebrating sin. Not even in the name of authenticity do we parade out our sins for the world to see in any kind of way that would glorify or sensationalize them. To the contrary, part of Christ's work on the cross is so that we can be free from the guilt and shame of past sin. At the same time, there's nothing biblical about acting like Christians have it all together. I'm so tired of Christians acting like once they put their faith in Christ that somehow they have to spend the rest of their lives acting like the people that God by his Spirit is making them into. The world, non-Christians are hurting. They're sinful and they know it, and most of them are honest enough to admit it. Why can't Christians do the same? I can't think of a better way to celebrate a church!
One of the guys in my small group on Sunday night, who just happened to join the church on Sunday morning put it so well, "After watching that video with all the hurting, broken people, I was even more thankful that this was the church I was joining."
Monday, May 4, 2009
Sunday School Sneak Peek
This week in Sunday School we'll be doing part one of a two part series on the "State of the Ministry." This has been a year of tremendous change in the Singles Ministry at OMPC, and I think it's good to take a minute and reflect on what God's done in our midst. In the book of Joshua, chapter 4, God tells Joshua that after the people have crossed the Jordan River to take 12 stones and build a memorial. The idea is that one day they'll be walking along the river with their children, and the stones will prompt the children to ask questions, and the people will then tell the story of how God dried up the river for them to cross over.
There are many things about many lives that have changed as a result of what God has done in the ministry this year. As I think about the rivers that we have crossed, are crossing, and have yet to cross, I wonder in years to come when the children of those in the ministry now see their parents act, talk, give, or pray in a certain way, and they ask, "Mommy/Daddy, why did you do that?" Will the answer be in part, because of something God did in their life in the Singles Ministry at OMPC years ago?
Hope you can join us for Sunday School this week in room S-180, at 9:05am.
There are many things about many lives that have changed as a result of what God has done in the ministry this year. As I think about the rivers that we have crossed, are crossing, and have yet to cross, I wonder in years to come when the children of those in the ministry now see their parents act, talk, give, or pray in a certain way, and they ask, "Mommy/Daddy, why did you do that?" Will the answer be in part, because of something God did in their life in the Singles Ministry at OMPC years ago?
Hope you can join us for Sunday School this week in room S-180, at 9:05am.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
What If God Were On Twitter
Here's the thing: I need to preface this post by saying, I am not one of those Christian-types who thinks all technology is somehow leading us down a path toward sin and degredation. To the contrary, I think for too long and much to the church's peril, Christians have ignored and discounted technology without seeing the potential benefits of it. I am not on Facebook, but I absolutely love Twitter. I don't know why. There's just something addictive about it. But I was thinking the other day about some of the consequences if God were on Twitter. Here are two I came up with that I think make me glad he's not.
1. Too much mystery would be lost. One of the reasons I think Twitter has become so popular is because we like knowing exactly what people are up to and thinking about at any given moment during the day. I don't buy the anti-Twitter argument that it's all mundane and boring. In fact, I think that's exactly why we love it so much. We want to know about the mundane and boring in our friends' (and Ashton Kutcher's) lives. But would that really be a good thing when it comes to God. See, we in America don't really have a high view for the mystery and "otherness" of God. (Our more Eastern Christian brothers and sisters get this concept a whole lot better than we do.) We like to think of him as knowable and here with us, and in a biblical, real sense that's true, but in thinking of him that way we can also lose some of the reverance and awe that comes from a God who's ways are not our ways and thoughts not our thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9). God has chosen to reveal a great deal about himself and given us the Holy Spirit to help us understand and often discern what he's doing and even sometimes his reasoning, but if we got too close. If we expected God to send a tweet everytime he got ready to make a decision, letting us know what he was thinking, and what he was up too, I wonder if we would forego the felt need to rely on what we know about his character during those times when we can't know what he's doing.
2. We would miss the wait. Another thing that's great about Twitter is that it gives us one more option for a quick response time. Notice next time you're using an actual Twitter program. Right under the status updates, are phrases like "sent less than a minute ago," or "sent about two minutes ago." It's quick, it's timely, we can send out something and have responses in fast. (The search engine on the twitter.com even lets you know how many seconds it took to pull up your results.) And would we do the same if God started tweeting? Would we expect responses to our thoughts and questions to come with a little time phrase under them? Would we ask, expecting an answer with a log letting us know exactly how fast God got back to us? Waiting isn't fun for me. It's not something I do well, but it's also one of the best things about aging: you get more comfortable with the fact that things don't have to be instantaneous and, like the seer once said, "This too shall pass." When we lose the ability to wait, our only option is despair and hopelessness. One because we think God's forgotten about us, and two, because we think this is all there is.
God is certainly close and he definitely hears and answers the prayers of his children consistently, justly, and graciously. And at the end of the day, he's given us something much greater than Twitter to help us know him more.
1. Too much mystery would be lost. One of the reasons I think Twitter has become so popular is because we like knowing exactly what people are up to and thinking about at any given moment during the day. I don't buy the anti-Twitter argument that it's all mundane and boring. In fact, I think that's exactly why we love it so much. We want to know about the mundane and boring in our friends' (and Ashton Kutcher's) lives. But would that really be a good thing when it comes to God. See, we in America don't really have a high view for the mystery and "otherness" of God. (Our more Eastern Christian brothers and sisters get this concept a whole lot better than we do.) We like to think of him as knowable and here with us, and in a biblical, real sense that's true, but in thinking of him that way we can also lose some of the reverance and awe that comes from a God who's ways are not our ways and thoughts not our thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9). God has chosen to reveal a great deal about himself and given us the Holy Spirit to help us understand and often discern what he's doing and even sometimes his reasoning, but if we got too close. If we expected God to send a tweet everytime he got ready to make a decision, letting us know what he was thinking, and what he was up too, I wonder if we would forego the felt need to rely on what we know about his character during those times when we can't know what he's doing.
2. We would miss the wait. Another thing that's great about Twitter is that it gives us one more option for a quick response time. Notice next time you're using an actual Twitter program. Right under the status updates, are phrases like "sent less than a minute ago," or "sent about two minutes ago." It's quick, it's timely, we can send out something and have responses in fast. (The search engine on the twitter.com even lets you know how many seconds it took to pull up your results.) And would we do the same if God started tweeting? Would we expect responses to our thoughts and questions to come with a little time phrase under them? Would we ask, expecting an answer with a log letting us know exactly how fast God got back to us? Waiting isn't fun for me. It's not something I do well, but it's also one of the best things about aging: you get more comfortable with the fact that things don't have to be instantaneous and, like the seer once said, "This too shall pass." When we lose the ability to wait, our only option is despair and hopelessness. One because we think God's forgotten about us, and two, because we think this is all there is.
God is certainly close and he definitely hears and answers the prayers of his children consistently, justly, and graciously. And at the end of the day, he's given us something much greater than Twitter to help us know him more.
Week Five: Heady Stuff
To read the introduction to this series, please click here.
So, this is the last week of my month-long journey of praying for five issues that I haven't really cared about in the past but should. This week it's mental health disorders and the state of those that suffer from mental health disorders around the world. The World Health Organization's fact file on mental health provided some great prompts for prayer, but what I've found myself praying over and over again is that people trained in psychology and psychiatry would find their hearts gripped with moving overseas to countries and starting mental health clinics and counseling centers, and the church in America needs to start sending them!
Here's the thing: the biggest barrier to proper care and treatment for people with mental disorders around the world is lack of human resources. In most low and middle income countries, there is only one child psychiatrist for every 1 to 4 million people. For adults, there is generally less than one psychiatrist for every 100,000 people. In Matthew 9 Jesus commands his followers to pray that God would send laborers into the harvest field of people who are lost and hurting and need all the restorative powers of the Gospel. And so that's where I've found myself this week. Praying for people to go. Praying that men and women whom God has equipped to understand the mind, would go to the far places of the world and give their lives for the sake of the Gospel.
So, this is the last week of my month-long journey of praying for five issues that I haven't really cared about in the past but should. This week it's mental health disorders and the state of those that suffer from mental health disorders around the world. The World Health Organization's fact file on mental health provided some great prompts for prayer, but what I've found myself praying over and over again is that people trained in psychology and psychiatry would find their hearts gripped with moving overseas to countries and starting mental health clinics and counseling centers, and the church in America needs to start sending them!
Here's the thing: the biggest barrier to proper care and treatment for people with mental disorders around the world is lack of human resources. In most low and middle income countries, there is only one child psychiatrist for every 1 to 4 million people. For adults, there is generally less than one psychiatrist for every 100,000 people. In Matthew 9 Jesus commands his followers to pray that God would send laborers into the harvest field of people who are lost and hurting and need all the restorative powers of the Gospel. And so that's where I've found myself this week. Praying for people to go. Praying that men and women whom God has equipped to understand the mind, would go to the far places of the world and give their lives for the sake of the Gospel.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
But I Don't Litter. . .
Here's the thing you need to read on this Earth Day: http://missiodeibham.blogspot.com/2009/04/wednesday-is-earth-day.html. It's a post by a friend of mine named Jason Tucker, who also is a pastor at my church. Don't be a typical Christian who thinks that things like ecology is just for liberal wacko's. Read it, and let your thinking and your heart be challenged.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Week Four: Hope(less?)
If you want to read the introduction to this series, please click here.
This a very poignant quote by James Wolfensohn, one-time president of the World Bank. He told the U.N. Security Council in January 2000 that an effective and comprehensive prevention program for sub-Saharan Africa would cost $2.3 billion a year. To be effective prevention must be paired with investment that will create jobs, invigorate the educational system and pull the poor out of the "here and now" mentality that makes them susceptible to AIDS. "Many of us used to think of AIDS as a health issue," Wolfensohn told the Security Council. "We were wrong. AIDS can no longer be confined to the health or social sector portfolios. AIDS is turning back the clock on development." http://www.globalhealth.org/news/article/500
There are about 36 million living with AIDS right now, and about 3.2 million will be infected with it for the first time this year. 2.3 people will die this year from AIDS.
Here's the thing: the issue of human trafficking felt so overwhelming because of the "hiddenness" of it, the fact that it was going on, but no one really knows how to bring it to the light or how extensive it is. This one feels overwhelming because of the "inevitability" of the way people write about it, especially in the way they write about Africa. It's like it's been there for years, will continue to be there, and there's no amount of money or education or whatever that can change what will happen.
But the message of the gospel is the message of transformation. It's the message that things that seemed inevitable can be reversed. That entire nations can be brought out of slavery, that seas can be parted, that dead can be made alive, that sin can be defeated, and that those far away from God can come to know him. So I'm choosing to pray for AIDS, even AIDS in Africa with great hope and expectation. After all, if God can save me, he can certainly bring this problem to an end!
This a very poignant quote by James Wolfensohn, one-time president of the World Bank. He told the U.N. Security Council in January 2000 that an effective and comprehensive prevention program for sub-Saharan Africa would cost $2.3 billion a year. To be effective prevention must be paired with investment that will create jobs, invigorate the educational system and pull the poor out of the "here and now" mentality that makes them susceptible to AIDS. "Many of us used to think of AIDS as a health issue," Wolfensohn told the Security Council. "We were wrong. AIDS can no longer be confined to the health or social sector portfolios. AIDS is turning back the clock on development." http://www.globalhealth.org/news/article/500
There are about 36 million living with AIDS right now, and about 3.2 million will be infected with it for the first time this year. 2.3 people will die this year from AIDS.
Here's the thing: the issue of human trafficking felt so overwhelming because of the "hiddenness" of it, the fact that it was going on, but no one really knows how to bring it to the light or how extensive it is. This one feels overwhelming because of the "inevitability" of the way people write about it, especially in the way they write about Africa. It's like it's been there for years, will continue to be there, and there's no amount of money or education or whatever that can change what will happen.
But the message of the gospel is the message of transformation. It's the message that things that seemed inevitable can be reversed. That entire nations can be brought out of slavery, that seas can be parted, that dead can be made alive, that sin can be defeated, and that those far away from God can come to know him. So I'm choosing to pray for AIDS, even AIDS in Africa with great hope and expectation. After all, if God can save me, he can certainly bring this problem to an end!
Friday, April 17, 2009
Why I Can't Get Over Susan Boyle
Unless you've been under a rock for the past week, you've probably heard about Susan Boyle. She's the woman from Scotland who taught us all a big lesson this past Saturday night on the auditions for the TV show Britain's Got Talent.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY
Here's the thing: I've watched the clip about 40 times since I first saw it on Wednesday, and it just never gets old to me. . .because when I watch it, I see my story. See, I came out on the stage of life with nothing to offer, and almost immediately the jeers from Satan and the world starting coming in from out there in the darkness. God asks, "What are you here for?" And I respond, "To sing for you." He kind of rolls his eyes, because he's had an almost infinite number of human sinners come before him, attempting to sing songs that fall deaf on his ears. But then, I open my mouth, and out comes the unexpected: the song of grace. The song of grace and righteousness that comes from his Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, and all of a sudden, the expression on his face, much like the faces of the judges on the TV show, changes to one of thrill and excitement, because this is the song he's been waiting to hear. The jeers of Satan are drowned out with the cheers of Heaven, and the dream of Eden is once again restored. And then, at the end, when the Judge's verdict is handed down, He gives me the "biggest 'yes' imagineable" for the rest of eternity.
So, I'll keep watching Susan Boyle, and I'll keep tearing up everytime, as I watch my story play out again and again.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY
Here's the thing: I've watched the clip about 40 times since I first saw it on Wednesday, and it just never gets old to me. . .because when I watch it, I see my story. See, I came out on the stage of life with nothing to offer, and almost immediately the jeers from Satan and the world starting coming in from out there in the darkness. God asks, "What are you here for?" And I respond, "To sing for you." He kind of rolls his eyes, because he's had an almost infinite number of human sinners come before him, attempting to sing songs that fall deaf on his ears. But then, I open my mouth, and out comes the unexpected: the song of grace. The song of grace and righteousness that comes from his Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, and all of a sudden, the expression on his face, much like the faces of the judges on the TV show, changes to one of thrill and excitement, because this is the song he's been waiting to hear. The jeers of Satan are drowned out with the cheers of Heaven, and the dream of Eden is once again restored. And then, at the end, when the Judge's verdict is handed down, He gives me the "biggest 'yes' imagineable" for the rest of eternity.
So, I'll keep watching Susan Boyle, and I'll keep tearing up everytime, as I watch my story play out again and again.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Uh. . .You're In the Wrong Place
Luke is the only writer of one of the Gospel's that records the following exchange on the morning that Jesus rose from the dead
"But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they (the women) went to the tomb, take the spices they had prepared. And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, behold two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen" (Luke 24:1-6).
This is one of my favorite scenes in the entirety of Scripture, because it's a question that I have to ask myself. See, here's the thing: there's something about me that wants to keep going back to the graveyard of my sin over and over again. I don't know what it is. I've confessed it, repented of it, it's been forgiven, and yet I find myself going back to the tomb where my old self was buried again and again. It's as if I'm drawn to the putrid smell of death and decay that characterized my life apart from Christ. It's like I want to put on the grave clothes, caked with the blood of guilt and shame, to see if they still fit. It's almost as if I've gotten confused and begun thinking that because it holds so many memories the tomb is still my home, the place where I'll be forced to spend the rest of my life.
And each time I go there, I can hear the Savior asking, "Jason, why do you seek the living among the dead? I'm no longer here, and so therefore you're no longer here. These sins, this guilt, this stentch of death. . .it's not who you are anymore. Yes, you once were dead, but I rose so that you could be made alive in me. This is not your home. This is not your identity anymore. Why do you keep coming back here? Let it be finally enough. Let my resurrection, my defeat of all your sin, my gift of righteousness and new life be sufficient this time. Live in it. It's who you are now. You won't find yourself here. This is a place for dead people, in the bondage of sin. Not people like you who are fully alive and totally free."
I gotta keep hearing this question!
"But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they (the women) went to the tomb, take the spices they had prepared. And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, behold two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen" (Luke 24:1-6).
This is one of my favorite scenes in the entirety of Scripture, because it's a question that I have to ask myself. See, here's the thing: there's something about me that wants to keep going back to the graveyard of my sin over and over again. I don't know what it is. I've confessed it, repented of it, it's been forgiven, and yet I find myself going back to the tomb where my old self was buried again and again. It's as if I'm drawn to the putrid smell of death and decay that characterized my life apart from Christ. It's like I want to put on the grave clothes, caked with the blood of guilt and shame, to see if they still fit. It's almost as if I've gotten confused and begun thinking that because it holds so many memories the tomb is still my home, the place where I'll be forced to spend the rest of my life.
And each time I go there, I can hear the Savior asking, "Jason, why do you seek the living among the dead? I'm no longer here, and so therefore you're no longer here. These sins, this guilt, this stentch of death. . .it's not who you are anymore. Yes, you once were dead, but I rose so that you could be made alive in me. This is not your home. This is not your identity anymore. Why do you keep coming back here? Let it be finally enough. Let my resurrection, my defeat of all your sin, my gift of righteousness and new life be sufficient this time. Live in it. It's who you are now. You won't find yourself here. This is a place for dead people, in the bondage of sin. Not people like you who are fully alive and totally free."
I gotta keep hearing this question!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Serenaded
I just finished watching an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. The father of the family being helped was in the hospital fighting brain cancer as the episode was being filmed, and he wasn't able to be with the family at the reveal. The family has seven children, six of whom have special needs and have been adopted from China. As a final surprise for the family, the show had invited Stevie Wonder to come and sing for them. He sang a special version of his song, "I Just Called to Say I Love You." Here's how he tweaked the chorus:
I am here, because he (the father) loves you.
I am here, because I know he cares.
I am here, because he loves you.
And he means it from the bottom of his heart.
Here's the thing: I sat there with tears rolling down my face, as I realized this was the perfect way to finish Easter Sunday, because this is Christ's song to me about my Father as well. This is the song he sang while he was here on earth, and this is the song he sings to me everyday of my life. He looks at me with all my sin and special needs. He looks at me with my fears and doubts and lack of faith. He looks at me with all my messups and "do overs," and "try again's," and he softly, gently, sings to me, "Jason, I am here, because he loves you. I am here, because I know he cares. I am here, because he loves you. And he means it from the bottom of his heart."
O that I would hear that song being sung over me and everyone who is being saved.
I am here, because he (the father) loves you.
I am here, because I know he cares.
I am here, because he loves you.
And he means it from the bottom of his heart.
Here's the thing: I sat there with tears rolling down my face, as I realized this was the perfect way to finish Easter Sunday, because this is Christ's song to me about my Father as well. This is the song he sang while he was here on earth, and this is the song he sings to me everyday of my life. He looks at me with all my sin and special needs. He looks at me with my fears and doubts and lack of faith. He looks at me with all my messups and "do overs," and "try again's," and he softly, gently, sings to me, "Jason, I am here, because he loves you. I am here, because I know he cares. I am here, because he loves you. And he means it from the bottom of his heart."
O that I would hear that song being sung over me and everyone who is being saved.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
This Is the Day
In the movie Groundhog Day, Bill Murray plays a local TV weatherman trapped in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, forced to re-live Feb. 2, Groundhog Day, over and over again. At first, when he realizes what's happening, he lives each day as if there are no consequences to his actions. Then, he discovers that the only way the cycle will ever be broken is if he betters himself, becomes a nicer person, and of course, falls in love with Andie MacDowell's character. So, he begins helping old ladies change tires, learns to play the piano, gets coffee and donuts for his cameraman, and even "adopts" a homeless man that is about to die, all in an effort to become better and break the cycle of living that one day over and over again.
Today is the Saturday in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. In many ways it's kind of "limbo" day for believers. On Good Friday, Christ bore the wrath of God, took on my sin, and made it possible for me to have a right standing before God. In other words, he made me righteous before the Father. On Easter Sunday, by his resurrection, he made victory over the sin in my life certain, defeated death, and made healing (of all kind) possible in this life as it will be certain in the next.
So, how does this tie in with Groundhog Day? Well, here's the thing: so often I find myself living over and over again, the Saturday in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I know that my sins have been taken care, and I believe that I have a right standing before God because of what happened yesterday, but so much of the time, I do not live in the victory that is mine as a result of what will happen tomorrow. (Hope you followed that. I realize the metaphor makes for some clumsiness here!) In other words, I live like my sins are forgiven but not like they're defeated. I trust that the emotional and mental and physical pains of this earth will one day be completely wiped away, but I hold out little faith that it could actually happen here on earth. And so over and over and over again, I re-live my own version of Groundhog Day, without hope, without victory, and in defeat, and this affects the way I pray, share my faith, and think about my sin.
For the disciples and followers of Christ while he was on earth, Saturday was a very hopeless day. They had watched him die, and even though they knew something significant happened during those hours on Friday, they really didn't get what it was. They thought the world had come to and end. You can imagine their demeanor. Dejected. Discouraged. Questioning. And yet that's where I find myself so much of the time. The difference is, I've never known a time when Sunday didn't come! I've never lived in a world where historically or exponentially all the things that happened when Christ rose from the grave were true and in place. So, what's my excuse? Why do I love to live this day over and over again? Part of it is, that this life can be discouraging and sin which seems to never go away can get me down. Part of it is, I just like to be sad sometimes, because it feels good and is in its own way a painkiller from the realities of this life. But I think there's something fundamentally wrong with living Saturday over and over again.
Just like Bill Murray's character longed to do whatever it took to break the cycle and get on to the next day, my prayer today is that I would long to live in the power and victory of Christ's resurrection. That I would choose what some call the "victorious Christian life," which I really just think is the normal and right Christian life. One in which the sin I'm fighting has already been defeated and there is hope that I actually, really could see victory over it in big ways on this earth. One in which I don't dismiss the pain I see around me, but I also realize that there is real, actual healing that can occur, and I pray, think, and hope that way. For me, unlike the character in the movie, it's not about doing enough good things. It's about believing rightly the truth of this weekend. And being very careful about which day I choose to re-live.
Today is the Saturday in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. In many ways it's kind of "limbo" day for believers. On Good Friday, Christ bore the wrath of God, took on my sin, and made it possible for me to have a right standing before God. In other words, he made me righteous before the Father. On Easter Sunday, by his resurrection, he made victory over the sin in my life certain, defeated death, and made healing (of all kind) possible in this life as it will be certain in the next.
So, how does this tie in with Groundhog Day? Well, here's the thing: so often I find myself living over and over again, the Saturday in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I know that my sins have been taken care, and I believe that I have a right standing before God because of what happened yesterday, but so much of the time, I do not live in the victory that is mine as a result of what will happen tomorrow. (Hope you followed that. I realize the metaphor makes for some clumsiness here!) In other words, I live like my sins are forgiven but not like they're defeated. I trust that the emotional and mental and physical pains of this earth will one day be completely wiped away, but I hold out little faith that it could actually happen here on earth. And so over and over and over again, I re-live my own version of Groundhog Day, without hope, without victory, and in defeat, and this affects the way I pray, share my faith, and think about my sin.
For the disciples and followers of Christ while he was on earth, Saturday was a very hopeless day. They had watched him die, and even though they knew something significant happened during those hours on Friday, they really didn't get what it was. They thought the world had come to and end. You can imagine their demeanor. Dejected. Discouraged. Questioning. And yet that's where I find myself so much of the time. The difference is, I've never known a time when Sunday didn't come! I've never lived in a world where historically or exponentially all the things that happened when Christ rose from the grave were true and in place. So, what's my excuse? Why do I love to live this day over and over again? Part of it is, that this life can be discouraging and sin which seems to never go away can get me down. Part of it is, I just like to be sad sometimes, because it feels good and is in its own way a painkiller from the realities of this life. But I think there's something fundamentally wrong with living Saturday over and over again.
Just like Bill Murray's character longed to do whatever it took to break the cycle and get on to the next day, my prayer today is that I would long to live in the power and victory of Christ's resurrection. That I would choose what some call the "victorious Christian life," which I really just think is the normal and right Christian life. One in which the sin I'm fighting has already been defeated and there is hope that I actually, really could see victory over it in big ways on this earth. One in which I don't dismiss the pain I see around me, but I also realize that there is real, actual healing that can occur, and I pray, think, and hope that way. For me, unlike the character in the movie, it's not about doing enough good things. It's about believing rightly the truth of this weekend. And being very careful about which day I choose to re-live.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Week Two: Gleaning the Intent
To read the introduction to this series, please click here.
I was reading the story of Ruth and Naomi and Boaz this week. It's fascinating. I don't have time to summarize the entire story, but there's a scene in which Naomi comes to Boaz's field to glean. Gleaning is the act by which someone goes behind the harvesters and basically, collects what's left over. God had instituted this rule for the Israelites in Leviticus 19:9-10, 23:33, and Deuteronomy 24:19 as a way for foreigners and aliens to be fed. The Israelites were instructed to pass over their fields and vineyards only once, and not go back and pick up whatever they missed. The leftovers would be for the gleaners. That was the law. Sounds pretty progressive for a God who's so often seen as old-fashioned, huh?
At any rate, Naomi comes to Boaz's field to glean, but when he sees her and talks to his hired men about her, he realizes her courage and sacrifice, so he tells his mean not to bother her, to let her glean, and even to leave some bundles of wheat in the field on purpose, so she'll have more to take. He then invites Naomi to come eat lunch with him, and even take back home what she can't finish.
Here's the thing: as I've been thinking about and praying about the issue of hunger in the world today, I think this story has all kinds of implications (probably some of the immigration debate, but that might be for another post.) At any rate, I was struck by Boaz's attitude concerning the gleaners and the law. See, the law said, leave something behind so the aliens and foreigners and those who couldn't work could collect. But, Boaz understood the heart of the law, which was to feed the people who were hungry. That's why he ordered his men to act they way he did. That's why he invited Naomi to eat lunch with him. It wasn't because he was required too, it was because he was compelled too.
Boaz remembered God's words when he gave the law to the Israelites that, "You shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt." God wanted to give a constant reminder to the Israelites of what he'd done for them in bringing them out of slavery in the land of Egypt, and the concept of gleaning was one of those ways.
And, I wonder if we as the church and me as a believer would get this concept, what kind of changes would occur. If I really understood that the master of the field has told his hired men to leave me alone and let me glean, and to even leave more in the field than is required. If I realized that I was once unable to work and provide for myself and would have gone hungry had I not been invited to eat lunch with the man who owned the field, how would that change the way I think about those who are hungry in the world? For me, it's not primarily a money issue, or a time issue. It's the fact that I've forgotten that physical acts of tangible mercy have been given to remind me of a more important spiritual truth.
I was reading the story of Ruth and Naomi and Boaz this week. It's fascinating. I don't have time to summarize the entire story, but there's a scene in which Naomi comes to Boaz's field to glean. Gleaning is the act by which someone goes behind the harvesters and basically, collects what's left over. God had instituted this rule for the Israelites in Leviticus 19:9-10, 23:33, and Deuteronomy 24:19 as a way for foreigners and aliens to be fed. The Israelites were instructed to pass over their fields and vineyards only once, and not go back and pick up whatever they missed. The leftovers would be for the gleaners. That was the law. Sounds pretty progressive for a God who's so often seen as old-fashioned, huh?
At any rate, Naomi comes to Boaz's field to glean, but when he sees her and talks to his hired men about her, he realizes her courage and sacrifice, so he tells his mean not to bother her, to let her glean, and even to leave some bundles of wheat in the field on purpose, so she'll have more to take. He then invites Naomi to come eat lunch with him, and even take back home what she can't finish.
Here's the thing: as I've been thinking about and praying about the issue of hunger in the world today, I think this story has all kinds of implications (probably some of the immigration debate, but that might be for another post.) At any rate, I was struck by Boaz's attitude concerning the gleaners and the law. See, the law said, leave something behind so the aliens and foreigners and those who couldn't work could collect. But, Boaz understood the heart of the law, which was to feed the people who were hungry. That's why he ordered his men to act they way he did. That's why he invited Naomi to eat lunch with him. It wasn't because he was required too, it was because he was compelled too.
Boaz remembered God's words when he gave the law to the Israelites that, "You shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt." God wanted to give a constant reminder to the Israelites of what he'd done for them in bringing them out of slavery in the land of Egypt, and the concept of gleaning was one of those ways.
And, I wonder if we as the church and me as a believer would get this concept, what kind of changes would occur. If I really understood that the master of the field has told his hired men to leave me alone and let me glean, and to even leave more in the field than is required. If I realized that I was once unable to work and provide for myself and would have gone hungry had I not been invited to eat lunch with the man who owned the field, how would that change the way I think about those who are hungry in the world? For me, it's not primarily a money issue, or a time issue. It's the fact that I've forgotten that physical acts of tangible mercy have been given to remind me of a more important spiritual truth.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Week Two: Failing the Test
To read the introduction to this series, please click here.
I just took a five-question quiz on world hunger, and I failed. It's not too surprising, really. I mean, I haven't ever really been hungry myself, so it's not something I've spent a lot of time thinking about. I did know that the region of the world with the highest levels of malnutrition is Sub-Saharan Africa, but I think that speaks more to my pre-conceived notions than it does my grasp of this issue.
I didn't know that 6 million children under the age of 5 die every year as a result of hunger. I didn't know that children who are malnourished are 8.4 times more likely to die of an infectous disease than children who aren't. And I didn't know that if I lived in country that was affected by hunger, I would have about seven more years to live before I reached the life expectancy of 38.
Here's the thing that makes me so sad (and angry) about this issue: it just seems so easy to solve. I mean, just feed people! I know it's not that simple, but to my naive brain it seems easy enough. You've got people that are hungry. You've got nations that have food. So, you send the food to the people who are hungry. I feel like I'm not the only one who's failed the test.
I just took a five-question quiz on world hunger, and I failed. It's not too surprising, really. I mean, I haven't ever really been hungry myself, so it's not something I've spent a lot of time thinking about. I did know that the region of the world with the highest levels of malnutrition is Sub-Saharan Africa, but I think that speaks more to my pre-conceived notions than it does my grasp of this issue.
I didn't know that 6 million children under the age of 5 die every year as a result of hunger. I didn't know that children who are malnourished are 8.4 times more likely to die of an infectous disease than children who aren't. And I didn't know that if I lived in country that was affected by hunger, I would have about seven more years to live before I reached the life expectancy of 38.
Here's the thing that makes me so sad (and angry) about this issue: it just seems so easy to solve. I mean, just feed people! I know it's not that simple, but to my naive brain it seems easy enough. You've got people that are hungry. You've got nations that have food. So, you send the food to the people who are hungry. I feel like I'm not the only one who's failed the test.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Finding Hope
To read the introductory post to this series, please click here.
The question that has come to my mind over and over again this week as I've prayed about the issue of human trafficking is, how do you find hope in the midst of this? When I first thought about doing this "exercise" during the month of April, it seemed so contradictory. I mean, for believers, Easter is supposed to be a happy, joyful occasion, and thinking about and focusing on these issues, has the potential to be very depressing. But, one thing that's become crystal clear to me this week is that this is the perfect time of year to have these things on the forefront of my mind, because they remind me so of why Christ had to come in the first place.
Here's the thing: all of us, were in spiritual slavery, caught up in a system that was trafficking our souls from freedom to bondage, and then from one form of bondage to another. Much like the millions of people who face the reality of some form of physical and emotional slavery each day around the world, all of humanity faced that reality, not just for few years, but for all of eternity. And then, God inserted himself physically into the course of history, and the chance, the potential for freedom appeared.
This gives me great hope as I pray, because if redemption can come for the spiritual condition of mankind, then it can come for the physical and emotional conditions we find ourselves in as well. So, I pray with hope in the same God who has always been in the business of setting the captives free.
The question that has come to my mind over and over again this week as I've prayed about the issue of human trafficking is, how do you find hope in the midst of this? When I first thought about doing this "exercise" during the month of April, it seemed so contradictory. I mean, for believers, Easter is supposed to be a happy, joyful occasion, and thinking about and focusing on these issues, has the potential to be very depressing. But, one thing that's become crystal clear to me this week is that this is the perfect time of year to have these things on the forefront of my mind, because they remind me so of why Christ had to come in the first place.
Here's the thing: all of us, were in spiritual slavery, caught up in a system that was trafficking our souls from freedom to bondage, and then from one form of bondage to another. Much like the millions of people who face the reality of some form of physical and emotional slavery each day around the world, all of humanity faced that reality, not just for few years, but for all of eternity. And then, God inserted himself physically into the course of history, and the chance, the potential for freedom appeared.
This gives me great hope as I pray, because if redemption can come for the spiritual condition of mankind, then it can come for the physical and emotional conditions we find ourselves in as well. So, I pray with hope in the same God who has always been in the business of setting the captives free.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Onions and Oceans
To read the introductory post to this series, please click here.
It happened twice today. I was visiting websites, still trying to get my mind around this whole idea of human trafficking and feeling very overwhelmed by what I was seeing and reading, and I found myself ready to click to sign up. Not sure what for, but I was ready to go, do, give, fight.
Here's the thing: as I realize and begin to grasp the complexity of this issue, I begin to realize that my prayers have got to change, become more sophisticated. Not because God demands it, but because the situation does. For example, I was praying for Vietnamese women who are trafficked out of the country at an alarming rate each year. And I was praying mostly for the situation in Vietnam (the police and government, for the country's attitude about life and women, etc.), then I read that the majority of them are smuggled to China to meet the demands for arranged marriages with Chinese men. So, I then had a whole other set of things to pray for concerning the Chinese side of this coin!
The layers and complexities come like waves, and it's hard to know how to keep up, but then I'm reminded that I'm praying about this to a God who understands all the interworkings of every one of the situations to the ultimate degree. He knows and is intimately associated with every person, every situation, every connection. And I'm thankful that I have a God like that to pray to about these kinds of things.
It happened twice today. I was visiting websites, still trying to get my mind around this whole idea of human trafficking and feeling very overwhelmed by what I was seeing and reading, and I found myself ready to click to sign up. Not sure what for, but I was ready to go, do, give, fight.
Here's the thing: as I realize and begin to grasp the complexity of this issue, I begin to realize that my prayers have got to change, become more sophisticated. Not because God demands it, but because the situation does. For example, I was praying for Vietnamese women who are trafficked out of the country at an alarming rate each year. And I was praying mostly for the situation in Vietnam (the police and government, for the country's attitude about life and women, etc.), then I read that the majority of them are smuggled to China to meet the demands for arranged marriages with Chinese men. So, I then had a whole other set of things to pray for concerning the Chinese side of this coin!
The layers and complexities come like waves, and it's hard to know how to keep up, but then I'm reminded that I'm praying about this to a God who understands all the interworkings of every one of the situations to the ultimate degree. He knows and is intimately associated with every person, every situation, every connection. And I'm thankful that I have a God like that to pray to about these kinds of things.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Happy Medium: Metaphors
Yesterday, the sermon at church was from Luke 14:16-24. It's the parable of a man who gave a great banquet, but none of the people he invited would come, so he sent his servant out to "compel" people to come.
There are a lot of layers to this sermon, which I may get into later, but the one thing that struck me yesterday was the fact that Jesus, in telling this story, uses the metaphor of a banquet, a huge, lavish party to describe the Christian life. A joyous celebration with food, wine, laughing, eating, music, and lots and lots of fun! And I was amazed at just how much this fit into what I've been thinking about in terms of a more balanced Christian life recently.
See, here's the thing: the Bible gives a lot of metaphors for describing the Christian life (e.g. a race, a battle, a pilgrimage, a journey, a marriage), and it's definitely right and good to think of the life of a believer in those terms. But, the degree to which I gravitate to one or the other of those metaphors says something about my view of the Gospel at any given moment. The convicting thing is, most of the time, I have no trouble thinking of the Christian life as a race or a battle. I mean, it's hard, it's exhausting, and it's a fight that I have to constantly be alert in. Rarely, though. . . maybe never, do I think of the Christian life as a banquet. I don't taste the good food and wine, I don't hear the music, I don't laugh at the jokes, or get blessedly lost in the din of the noise of all the conversations.
I need balance in my life. I need to live in the reality that all the metaphors the Bible offers to help me understand this life I've been called to are true, and yet, I can't help thinking today that I might need to, just for a while, live more on the side of the banquet, the party. The feast that I don't deserve to be at, but the one that guy sitting at the head of the table with that enormous smile on his face, laughing at the jokes and encouraging us all to have seconds and thirds, our host, was so gracious to bring me to!
There are a lot of layers to this sermon, which I may get into later, but the one thing that struck me yesterday was the fact that Jesus, in telling this story, uses the metaphor of a banquet, a huge, lavish party to describe the Christian life. A joyous celebration with food, wine, laughing, eating, music, and lots and lots of fun! And I was amazed at just how much this fit into what I've been thinking about in terms of a more balanced Christian life recently.
See, here's the thing: the Bible gives a lot of metaphors for describing the Christian life (e.g. a race, a battle, a pilgrimage, a journey, a marriage), and it's definitely right and good to think of the life of a believer in those terms. But, the degree to which I gravitate to one or the other of those metaphors says something about my view of the Gospel at any given moment. The convicting thing is, most of the time, I have no trouble thinking of the Christian life as a race or a battle. I mean, it's hard, it's exhausting, and it's a fight that I have to constantly be alert in. Rarely, though. . . maybe never, do I think of the Christian life as a banquet. I don't taste the good food and wine, I don't hear the music, I don't laugh at the jokes, or get blessedly lost in the din of the noise of all the conversations.
I need balance in my life. I need to live in the reality that all the metaphors the Bible offers to help me understand this life I've been called to are true, and yet, I can't help thinking today that I might need to, just for a while, live more on the side of the banquet, the party. The feast that I don't deserve to be at, but the one that guy sitting at the head of the table with that enormous smile on his face, laughing at the jokes and encouraging us all to have seconds and thirds, our host, was so gracious to bring me to!
Week One: Intro. and Numbers
To read the introductory post to this series, please click here.
Here's the thing about deciding to do something like take a week to pray for the issue of human trafficking: I like to pray intelligently, and to do I have to do some research, which means I have to read about the issue, which means I'm subjecting myself to learning about the realities of things I'd much rather pretend don't happen. But they do, and so I've been trying to pull together some basic introductory stuff today so I can pray.
The United Nations defines human trafficking as the "recuitment, transportation, transfer, harboring, or receipt of persons, by means of threat or use of force or other forms of coercion, of abductio, of fraud, of deception, of the abuse of power or of a position of vulnerability for the purpose of exploitation." (http://www.ungift.org/)
Here are the three statistics that I found today that shocked me the most:
http://www.ungift.org/
http://www.unodc.org/documents/human-trafficking/Executive_summary_english.pdf
http://www.humantrafficking.org/links/95
I will make some comments about this during the week, but for today, I just want to let these sites and numbers speak for themselves.
Here's the thing about deciding to do something like take a week to pray for the issue of human trafficking: I like to pray intelligently, and to do I have to do some research, which means I have to read about the issue, which means I'm subjecting myself to learning about the realities of things I'd much rather pretend don't happen. But they do, and so I've been trying to pull together some basic introductory stuff today so I can pray.
The United Nations defines human trafficking as the "recuitment, transportation, transfer, harboring, or receipt of persons, by means of threat or use of force or other forms of coercion, of abductio, of fraud, of deception, of the abuse of power or of a position of vulnerability for the purpose of exploitation." (http://www.ungift.org/)
Here are the three statistics that I found today that shocked me the most:
- 2.45 million people are estimated to be in conditions of forced labor as a result of trafficking.
- 18% of trafficked persons have at least a middle-level education.
- About 66% of all humans trafficked are women; however, 46 countries reported that women play a key role as perpetrators of human trafficking!
http://www.ungift.org/
http://www.unodc.org/documents/human-trafficking/Executive_summary_english.pdf
http://www.humantrafficking.org/links/95
I will make some comments about this during the week, but for today, I just want to let these sites and numbers speak for themselves.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Happy Medium: The Balancing Act
As you know, I've been listening to Chris Rice's CD What a Heart Is Beating For, and I'm just blown away that God in his merciful Providence sent this CD my way at this particular time. I've read the liner notes in the CD booklet, and Rice doesn't really say what the album as a whole is supposed to be about, so I'm going to take that as liberty to come up with my own theory. What I'm learning from the songs is that there is a lot of joy in the Christian life, and it's okay to enjoy it and be happy.
See, for most of my life, I've bounced between two extremes. One is that the Christian is supposed to "rejoice in all circumstances," no matter what those circumstances are, and that your lack of joy or rejoicing is somehow a lack of faith in Christ and therefore sinful. The other is that suffering is real, this world is sinful, the Christian life is a race, and believing in God's sovereignty almost becomes fatalistic so that you start to shut down all emotion. . .just in case the other shoe drops. Both of these are wrong.
Over the past few months, there's seemingly been little in my life to rejoice about, and yet, Chris' songs have reminded me that there is much to be thankful for and even happy about, even in the midst of suffering, trials, and the storms of this life. The first track is titled, "So Much for My Sad Song," and it's about a guy who decides before he ever gets out of bed to write a sad song. . .in other words, no matter what, he's gonna be in a bad mood! And so often I find myself feeling this way. Here's the thing: I am very good at living in the first half of the "Lament Psalms," you know, all the "woe is me," "My God, why have you forsaken me," parts. And while there's nothing unbiblical or sinful about this attitude, I have to be balanced enough to make it to the end of those same psalms where David (or one of the other authors) chooses praise and finds his heart inclined to singing and praising before the Lord.
The singing and praising comes, not from denial about the circumstances we find ourselves, and it's certainly not out of a feeling that if we try hard enough to be happy and joyful, we will be. Instead, like Chris' song says, "Let's make this a love song, instead, 'cause I'm so in love with you." The praising comes from this deep, passionate love affair that's going on, through the good times and bad, with our God who is in control.
See, for most of my life, I've bounced between two extremes. One is that the Christian is supposed to "rejoice in all circumstances," no matter what those circumstances are, and that your lack of joy or rejoicing is somehow a lack of faith in Christ and therefore sinful. The other is that suffering is real, this world is sinful, the Christian life is a race, and believing in God's sovereignty almost becomes fatalistic so that you start to shut down all emotion. . .just in case the other shoe drops. Both of these are wrong.
Over the past few months, there's seemingly been little in my life to rejoice about, and yet, Chris' songs have reminded me that there is much to be thankful for and even happy about, even in the midst of suffering, trials, and the storms of this life. The first track is titled, "So Much for My Sad Song," and it's about a guy who decides before he ever gets out of bed to write a sad song. . .in other words, no matter what, he's gonna be in a bad mood! And so often I find myself feeling this way. Here's the thing: I am very good at living in the first half of the "Lament Psalms," you know, all the "woe is me," "My God, why have you forsaken me," parts. And while there's nothing unbiblical or sinful about this attitude, I have to be balanced enough to make it to the end of those same psalms where David (or one of the other authors) chooses praise and finds his heart inclined to singing and praising before the Lord.
The singing and praising comes, not from denial about the circumstances we find ourselves, and it's certainly not out of a feeling that if we try hard enough to be happy and joyful, we will be. Instead, like Chris' song says, "Let's make this a love song, instead, 'cause I'm so in love with you." The praising comes from this deep, passionate love affair that's going on, through the good times and bad, with our God who is in control.
It's About Time
This year, in the Western calendar, Easter falls in the month of April. My heart has been gripped recently by the fact that there are things going on in the world that I care very little about, because they seem so far away from where I live. I might catch an occasional news story and shake my head, but ultimately I go on with my life. So, here's the thing: I've decided to take the five weeks in April (a few days fall during the last week in March) and pray for five things that are going on around the world that I don't care about but, as a follower of Christ, should. When you start looking at the numbers, you realize that far from being isolated and remote as I would like to believe they are, these things involve and affect millions of people and happen regularly and frequently. The fact that the Holy Spirit has impressed this on my heart to do during April doesn't make me super-spiritual or in line for sainthood. I'm actually broken over my lack of concern for so much of these things, and I can't think of a better way to engage my heart than to begin praying about them.
1. Human Trafficking -- Each year an estimated 600-800,000 people, human beings, created in the image of God, are trafficked across international borders, in some form of slavery. 70% of these are female and 50% of these are children. Most will end up in the international sex trade industry, which generates $4 billion (42% of all trafficking money) each year. http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/ovc/ncvrw/2005/pg5l.html
2. Starving People -- Every day, EVERY DAY, 16,000 children under the age of five die from hunger. 840 million people in the world are malnourished. Right now, there are 54 nations in the world that can't produce enough food to feed their citizens and can't afford to import food from other countries. http://www.care.org/campaigns/world-hunger/facts.asp
3. Ethic Cleansing in Sudan -- Since 2003, at least 400,000 people have been killed as a result of the ethnic cleansing going on in this country, and 2.5 million have been displaced due to threat of death or their homes being destroyed. http://www.unitedhumanrights.org/sudan_genocide_genocide_in_sudan.php
4. AIDS -- As of the end of 2007, there were 33 million people living with AIDS worldwide. In Africa, there are an estimated 11.6 million AIDS orphans. There are about 9.7 million people who need immediate medical treatment for AIDS or AIDS-related illness. Only about 2.9 million will get the treatments they need. http://www.avert.org/worldstats.htm
5. Mental Health Issues -- As of 2002, there were an estimated 154 million people worldwide suffer from depression, and there were 25 million who suffered from schizophrenia. Few countries have a legal framework to protect people with mental illnesses from human rights abuses. http://www.avert.org/worldstats.htm
The promise of the death and resurrection of Christ is hope. Ultimate hope that our souls can be reconciled to God and that one day, all evil will be cast into the Lake of Fire, but also hope for today that all things truly can be made new. What a better time of year to be thinking about the heavier and sadder things of this life?
1. Human Trafficking -- Each year an estimated 600-800,000 people, human beings, created in the image of God, are trafficked across international borders, in some form of slavery. 70% of these are female and 50% of these are children. Most will end up in the international sex trade industry, which generates $4 billion (42% of all trafficking money) each year. http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/ovc/ncvrw/2005/pg5l.html
2. Starving People -- Every day, EVERY DAY, 16,000 children under the age of five die from hunger. 840 million people in the world are malnourished. Right now, there are 54 nations in the world that can't produce enough food to feed their citizens and can't afford to import food from other countries. http://www.care.org/campaigns/world-hunger/facts.asp
3. Ethic Cleansing in Sudan -- Since 2003, at least 400,000 people have been killed as a result of the ethnic cleansing going on in this country, and 2.5 million have been displaced due to threat of death or their homes being destroyed. http://www.unitedhumanrights.org/sudan_genocide_genocide_in_sudan.php
4. AIDS -- As of the end of 2007, there were 33 million people living with AIDS worldwide. In Africa, there are an estimated 11.6 million AIDS orphans. There are about 9.7 million people who need immediate medical treatment for AIDS or AIDS-related illness. Only about 2.9 million will get the treatments they need. http://www.avert.org/worldstats.htm
5. Mental Health Issues -- As of 2002, there were an estimated 154 million people worldwide suffer from depression, and there were 25 million who suffered from schizophrenia. Few countries have a legal framework to protect people with mental illnesses from human rights abuses. http://www.avert.org/worldstats.htm
The promise of the death and resurrection of Christ is hope. Ultimate hope that our souls can be reconciled to God and that one day, all evil will be cast into the Lake of Fire, but also hope for today that all things truly can be made new. What a better time of year to be thinking about the heavier and sadder things of this life?
Loud and Clear
This past Friday night, I helped out with Special Kids Night at my church. It's a once-a-month program where parents from all over the city who have children with special needs, can bring them to the church for up to four hours so they can have a night out or off. This was my first time to help with it, and I can't imagine a better way to spend the evening.
Before the kids got there, the lady who is in charge of the program gave us newbies a little orientation. It was pretty basic -- play with the kids, love them, and have fun. Not a bad deal. She also told us that many of the kids who come are non-communicative.
Here's the thing: she was wrong. After a hour of putting the ball in Kyle's lap and letting him push it on the floor and watching him quake and smile with excitement while sucking on his hand; after about forty-five minutes of walking around the gym, holding little Jacob and watching his head bob back-and-forth to "Row, Row, Row Your Boat;" after being doubled over because Paul was laughing so hard at me when I got accidentally hit with a ball while I was pushing him around the gym in his wheelchair; after Nathan spent about thirty minutes rubbing my hair (which I shave pretty short with clippers), I realized that actually the lady was wrong. They might be "non-communicative," but wow, I sure was hearing a lot.
Before the kids got there, the lady who is in charge of the program gave us newbies a little orientation. It was pretty basic -- play with the kids, love them, and have fun. Not a bad deal. She also told us that many of the kids who come are non-communicative.
Here's the thing: she was wrong. After a hour of putting the ball in Kyle's lap and letting him push it on the floor and watching him quake and smile with excitement while sucking on his hand; after about forty-five minutes of walking around the gym, holding little Jacob and watching his head bob back-and-forth to "Row, Row, Row Your Boat;" after being doubled over because Paul was laughing so hard at me when I got accidentally hit with a ball while I was pushing him around the gym in his wheelchair; after Nathan spent about thirty minutes rubbing my hair (which I shave pretty short with clippers), I realized that actually the lady was wrong. They might be "non-communicative," but wow, I sure was hearing a lot.
Monday, March 16, 2009
A Wee Lil' Reading
Here's the thing: in college I was an English major, and one semester I took a class on Irish Literature because I'd never read anything particularly Irish before, and I fell in love with the writing. Coincedentally, I took a class on Southern lit. during the same semester, and saw all kinds of connections between the two, but that's a seperate story.
At any rate, I thought I'd share with you a few of my favorite novels in case you're wanting to get into the spirit of things for St. Patrick's Day. All of these are fiction, and they aren't in any particular order.
1. A Star Called Henry (by Roddy Doyle) -- I like this novel because it makes history accessible, and gives a really good look into the mindset of lower-class/poor Irish city dwellers around the turn of the 20th century.
2. Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha (by Roddy Doyle) -- Completely different feel from A Star Called Henry, but I think it brings out much of the humor in Irish lit.
3. Ireland (by Frank Delany) -- This is a long one, but you will never understand the Irish love affair with storytelling until you read this novel.
4. The Giant O'Brien (by Hilary Mantel) -- This one is a must to get the folklore and magic that is a big part of Irish literature, and it also symbolizes the contrast between Ireland as a land of arts and mystery, and England as the cold empire of science and reason trying to wipe out Ireland's culture.
All of these novels are at times raw and rough, and that in itself gives insight into the culture and perceptions of the people. So, pop open a Guiness and enjoy!
At any rate, I thought I'd share with you a few of my favorite novels in case you're wanting to get into the spirit of things for St. Patrick's Day. All of these are fiction, and they aren't in any particular order.
1. A Star Called Henry (by Roddy Doyle) -- I like this novel because it makes history accessible, and gives a really good look into the mindset of lower-class/poor Irish city dwellers around the turn of the 20th century.
2. Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha (by Roddy Doyle) -- Completely different feel from A Star Called Henry, but I think it brings out much of the humor in Irish lit.
3. Ireland (by Frank Delany) -- This is a long one, but you will never understand the Irish love affair with storytelling until you read this novel.
4. The Giant O'Brien (by Hilary Mantel) -- This one is a must to get the folklore and magic that is a big part of Irish literature, and it also symbolizes the contrast between Ireland as a land of arts and mystery, and England as the cold empire of science and reason trying to wipe out Ireland's culture.
All of these novels are at times raw and rough, and that in itself gives insight into the culture and perceptions of the people. So, pop open a Guiness and enjoy!
Tangled Up Inside
I was sitting at the desk in our study/office this morning, working on some e-mails before I went to work, and watching Radley playing out in the backyard. I really didn't want him out in the backyard this morning, because it's been raining here most all weekend, and he had a bath on Saturday and was clean and smelled good, but he wanted to be out there, so I let him do what he wanted to do. He ended up, as he normally does, at the back fence where tree limbs hang over from the woods behind our house, biting and pulling on the limbs. It's one of his favorite pastimes, and I grimaced as I watched him, wrestle with the wet limbs that are actually more like vines, because I knew the more he got wrapped up in them, the dirtier he was getting. But, again, it's something he loves to do, so I let him do it. Now, I should say that he has plenty of things he could be chewing on inside the house, where it's warm and dry. My roommate spends a small fortune on bones, chew toys, etc. so that he'll have plenty to play with, but nope, those won't do. He wants the vines, the branches, the dirt and grime.
Then, it happened, as it sometimes does, I looked up from the computer, and he was tangled in one of the vines. One of his back legs had gotten caught, and he was trying to get out. I watched for a while to see if he would in fact be able to get loose, but then, I saw him go down to the ground and heard him start to whimper: the two signs that he is caught, can't get out, and needs help. So, already dressed for work, I went out to set him free. I knew there was a good chance that I would get mud on me and have to change my clothes after it was done. At the very least, I figured my hands would get dirty. Plus, it was his own fault. If he wouldn't go over and pull and twist and chew on those dumb vines, he wouldn't be caught in the first place. But, no matter how I try to justify and reason it out, it never fails. When I see him unable to free himself and hear those little puppy cries for help, my heart is compelled to go set him free. Even if it means I have to get a little dirty, and even if it is his fault in the first place.
Here's the thing: that's exactly how community within the body should be. We ought always to be watching each other "through the window," keeping an eye on each other to make sure that we can see when trouble comes. Then, in those moments when one of our brothers or sisters is caught in the vine -- whether it's their fault or not -- and they go down to the ground and start to whimper for help, our reaction should be to go get them and do everything in our power to help get them free of whatever has them caught. We may get a little (or a lot) dirty in the process, but that's really not important. And it doesn't even matter if it's the second, third, or fortieth time they've gotten caught in that same vine because they just won't leave it alone. The Gospel is for people who need second, third, and four-thousandth chances, because we all have our vines that we love to go back to over and over again. I hope and pray that as I understand the Gospel more and more and daily live more fully in it, that my heart will be softened more and more and that I'll never resist going after those caught in the vines of sin and the world.
Then, it happened, as it sometimes does, I looked up from the computer, and he was tangled in one of the vines. One of his back legs had gotten caught, and he was trying to get out. I watched for a while to see if he would in fact be able to get loose, but then, I saw him go down to the ground and heard him start to whimper: the two signs that he is caught, can't get out, and needs help. So, already dressed for work, I went out to set him free. I knew there was a good chance that I would get mud on me and have to change my clothes after it was done. At the very least, I figured my hands would get dirty. Plus, it was his own fault. If he wouldn't go over and pull and twist and chew on those dumb vines, he wouldn't be caught in the first place. But, no matter how I try to justify and reason it out, it never fails. When I see him unable to free himself and hear those little puppy cries for help, my heart is compelled to go set him free. Even if it means I have to get a little dirty, and even if it is his fault in the first place.
Here's the thing: that's exactly how community within the body should be. We ought always to be watching each other "through the window," keeping an eye on each other to make sure that we can see when trouble comes. Then, in those moments when one of our brothers or sisters is caught in the vine -- whether it's their fault or not -- and they go down to the ground and start to whimper for help, our reaction should be to go get them and do everything in our power to help get them free of whatever has them caught. We may get a little (or a lot) dirty in the process, but that's really not important. And it doesn't even matter if it's the second, third, or fortieth time they've gotten caught in that same vine because they just won't leave it alone. The Gospel is for people who need second, third, and four-thousandth chances, because we all have our vines that we love to go back to over and over again. I hope and pray that as I understand the Gospel more and more and daily live more fully in it, that my heart will be softened more and more and that I'll never resist going after those caught in the vines of sin and the world.
Theology for a Song: Follow-up
Thought I'd follow-up on my post from Saturday to say that "I Have a Hope" exceeded expectations in worship yesterday. Here's the thing: I know it's not about comparison or competition, but I honestly like the version in church yesterday than the original. Well done OMPC Praise Team!
Friday, March 13, 2009
Theology for a Song
Okay, I admit it. I snuck into Praise Team practice this past Wednesday night, and overheard them practicing a song for Sunday. Actually I didn't "sneak in," I just needed to talk to someone who I thought would be working in the sound booth. Turns out he was playing drums, but anyway. . .
The song they were singing is a song called "I Have a Hope." It's by a guy named Tommy Walker. (You can watch him sing it here.) This is a song that speaks to my heart. It's a song that packed full of Scriptural truths about all that God is to his children and does for them. But here's the thing I love about it: when I sing this song against the backdrop of all that's been going on in my life over the past few months, it becomes a reminder to me that, yes, there's the hope of Heaven, the hope that one day all of this will be completely resolved, but there's also the day-by-day hope that God can work things out for good in my life today. That there can be "hope for me today/'cause the God of Heaven loves me." And that's the truth that gets me out of bed every morning (and into bed every night!). That's the truth that makes dealing with the junk in people's lives and in my won life possible. There is ultimate hope, but there's also hope in the here and now.
The song they were singing is a song called "I Have a Hope." It's by a guy named Tommy Walker. (You can watch him sing it here.) This is a song that speaks to my heart. It's a song that packed full of Scriptural truths about all that God is to his children and does for them. But here's the thing I love about it: when I sing this song against the backdrop of all that's been going on in my life over the past few months, it becomes a reminder to me that, yes, there's the hope of Heaven, the hope that one day all of this will be completely resolved, but there's also the day-by-day hope that God can work things out for good in my life today. That there can be "hope for me today/'cause the God of Heaven loves me." And that's the truth that gets me out of bed every morning (and into bed every night!). That's the truth that makes dealing with the junk in people's lives and in my won life possible. There is ultimate hope, but there's also hope in the here and now.
Monday, March 9, 2009
I'm Glad She Wore White
I went to a wedding this weekend. The groom is a really good friend of mine, and the bride was a girl that he's been dating for a few months. She also happens to be pregnant. It was a wonderful weekend of celebrating God's sovereignty, not as a "Plan B God," but as a God who is totally in control of all situations, even our sin. (I mean, if you think about it, if God isn't sovereign over our sin as well as our holiness, then he is constantly losing his sovereignty billions of times throughout the day.) Anyway, it was an amazing time of praising God for how he works his will throughout all situations, the planned and the unplanned alike.
Then came the ceremony, and something I was not prepared for. See, normally when you're a groomsman at a wedding, you're main goal is not to really pay attention to what's going on but to try and keep from passing out and getting the bridesmaid you're escorting down whatever stairs you have to navigate and out of the sanctuary as smoothly as possible. Needless to say, when the wedding actually started, I wasn't ready for what I saw. . . the bride, walking down the aisle, in a white wedding gown. Here she was, this girl who never expected to be walking down the aisle with a baby growing inside her, a follower of Christ whose sin just happens to be visible instead of hidden, coming down the aisle to meet her groom in a white wedding gown, the symbol of purity and holiness.
The church kind of went blurry around me and the tears came as the Holy Spirit reminded me, "Jason, that's exactly the way you come to the Father." Here's the thing: I'm a follower of Christ whose sin is not hidden in the least from the Father who knows all about me, and yet, because of Christ, I come before him pure, holy, and totally, 100% righteous. Satan tells me that I can't approach him in white. He says that my past and current sins are too hideous, and that it would be hypocritical to come in white. Then he tells me that no matter if my past has been forgiven, I'll slip up again in the future, so it would be insulting to come to him in white. And yet, because of Christ's righteousness that's been imposed upon me, I come down the aisle dressed in white, ready to meet my Father, unashamed and as if I were a virgin and had never sinned at all.
I gotta tell you, I don't really remember a lot of the rest of the ceremony, except that I know I was given a very special gift by the Father on Saturday afternoon. I was able to see, in real, human form, exactly what happens everytime I approach my Father in Heaven. He watches me walk down the aisle, dressed in white, with a big smile of pleasure and anticipation on his face, ready for me to get there so we can be together.
So, yeah, I'm so very thankful she wore white.
Then came the ceremony, and something I was not prepared for. See, normally when you're a groomsman at a wedding, you're main goal is not to really pay attention to what's going on but to try and keep from passing out and getting the bridesmaid you're escorting down whatever stairs you have to navigate and out of the sanctuary as smoothly as possible. Needless to say, when the wedding actually started, I wasn't ready for what I saw. . . the bride, walking down the aisle, in a white wedding gown. Here she was, this girl who never expected to be walking down the aisle with a baby growing inside her, a follower of Christ whose sin just happens to be visible instead of hidden, coming down the aisle to meet her groom in a white wedding gown, the symbol of purity and holiness.
The church kind of went blurry around me and the tears came as the Holy Spirit reminded me, "Jason, that's exactly the way you come to the Father." Here's the thing: I'm a follower of Christ whose sin is not hidden in the least from the Father who knows all about me, and yet, because of Christ, I come before him pure, holy, and totally, 100% righteous. Satan tells me that I can't approach him in white. He says that my past and current sins are too hideous, and that it would be hypocritical to come in white. Then he tells me that no matter if my past has been forgiven, I'll slip up again in the future, so it would be insulting to come to him in white. And yet, because of Christ's righteousness that's been imposed upon me, I come down the aisle dressed in white, ready to meet my Father, unashamed and as if I were a virgin and had never sinned at all.
I gotta tell you, I don't really remember a lot of the rest of the ceremony, except that I know I was given a very special gift by the Father on Saturday afternoon. I was able to see, in real, human form, exactly what happens everytime I approach my Father in Heaven. He watches me walk down the aisle, dressed in white, with a big smile of pleasure and anticipation on his face, ready for me to get there so we can be together.
So, yeah, I'm so very thankful she wore white.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Old Habits
Here's the thing you've got to read today: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/29504880/. It's an article about what the Dean of the Russian's Foreign Diplomatic Academy said about U.S. economy.
Now it might be easy to dismiss his comments as nonsense. He's just blowing smoke. He doesn't have all the facts. But the reason to care is that, whether he's right or not, he's spouting this stuff off to the future foreign diplomats of the country! These are the folks who'll likely one day be representing Russia around the world in embassies, at the UN, and elsewhere. After living in Russia for two years, I honestly believe that this is where the Russian political mindset is right now. It's not that Russians are really anti-American in the way that say, Iran is. It's just that Russians are really pro-Russia right now. (Actually, if you look at the speech, it's far more nationalistic than anything else.) There is a growing sense of nationalism and imperialism in that country, particularly among the politicians and those in university, and every empire has to have an enemy. For Russia, by default, that becomes America. Why? Because it's familiar. After all, the United States and the USSR have been playing this game for quite a long while.
Now it might be easy to dismiss his comments as nonsense. He's just blowing smoke. He doesn't have all the facts. But the reason to care is that, whether he's right or not, he's spouting this stuff off to the future foreign diplomats of the country! These are the folks who'll likely one day be representing Russia around the world in embassies, at the UN, and elsewhere. After living in Russia for two years, I honestly believe that this is where the Russian political mindset is right now. It's not that Russians are really anti-American in the way that say, Iran is. It's just that Russians are really pro-Russia right now. (Actually, if you look at the speech, it's far more nationalistic than anything else.) There is a growing sense of nationalism and imperialism in that country, particularly among the politicians and those in university, and every empire has to have an enemy. For Russia, by default, that becomes America. Why? Because it's familiar. After all, the United States and the USSR have been playing this game for quite a long while.
All A-Twitter
This morning I signed up for Twitter. For those who don't know, Twitter is a service where you can register, and then post little updates about things throughout the day (where you are at any given moment, what you're thinking about, etc.) Then, anyone who cares and is following you, receives a text message with your update, or they can go to the Twitter website and read it. Now, I can "tweet" all day and all night long. That's really what it's called. . . tweeting! It's a verb that means to post something on Twitter. Now, I'll be tweeting to the gym, tweeting home from work, and tweeting in the grocery store, which I'm pretty sure is against the law in most states, by the way.
Here's the thing: I would like to say that I did this for ministry purposes. I would like to say that I did this so I could "connect with old friends" (even though that rationale has been more than worn out by every Facebook user!), but I didn't. I did it because folks were talking about it last night at dinner, and I had some free time on my hands this morning. The problem is, the free time I had this morning to sign up for this thing is now almost a requirement so I can keep it updated! The list of things I've caved on recently is frightening, and already some of my friends are saying that (gulp) Facebook is next. I've tied the blindfold on myself and lit a cigarette so the firing squad can begin. I deserve it.
Here's the thing: I would like to say that I did this for ministry purposes. I would like to say that I did this so I could "connect with old friends" (even though that rationale has been more than worn out by every Facebook user!), but I didn't. I did it because folks were talking about it last night at dinner, and I had some free time on my hands this morning. The problem is, the free time I had this morning to sign up for this thing is now almost a requirement so I can keep it updated! The list of things I've caved on recently is frightening, and already some of my friends are saying that (gulp) Facebook is next. I've tied the blindfold on myself and lit a cigarette so the firing squad can begin. I deserve it.
Knitted Together in the Dark
Psalm 139 has a lot of really good stuff in it about God's omnipresence (the attribute he has to be able to be everywhere, at all times), but in verses 13-16 David talks about God forming him before he was born. He uses words like "knitted me together in my mother's womb," and "when I was being made in secret," and "intricately woven in the depths of the earth." It's a beautiful passage, and it adds to my "theology of darkness" that I've been thinking about lately.
The image in my mind is such an intimate one. God the Father, in the dark, putting a little baby together. He's done this billions of times before, but each time, no matter what his will has in store for this person, he gets to spend the very first moments with this baby alone, in the quiet, in the dark, weaving and knitting in all the elements of personality, spiritual gifts that may or may not be activated one day, talents, and yes, even predispositions to certain sins. It's quiet work, it's beautiful work, and it happens in the dark. (On a side note, I'm wondering if this could be why one of my favorite things to do is to babysit a little baby that's fussy, and getting to go sit with it, in the dark, in the rocking chair, and just talk and pray for him/her. Maybe it's because that's a little glimpse of what God does with us before we're an embryo,fetus, or whatever.)
Now, here's the thing: we may not always like some of the things that are woven into us. There are plenty of things in my own life that I wish God hadn't chosen to include in his knitting. Yet, there is a tremendous sense of peace and hope that comes in knowing he selected each one for a purpose, and that he knows every single thread used and has complete control over them all. What a wonderful thing that is happening, even right now all over the world. . . in complete darkness.
The image in my mind is such an intimate one. God the Father, in the dark, putting a little baby together. He's done this billions of times before, but each time, no matter what his will has in store for this person, he gets to spend the very first moments with this baby alone, in the quiet, in the dark, weaving and knitting in all the elements of personality, spiritual gifts that may or may not be activated one day, talents, and yes, even predispositions to certain sins. It's quiet work, it's beautiful work, and it happens in the dark. (On a side note, I'm wondering if this could be why one of my favorite things to do is to babysit a little baby that's fussy, and getting to go sit with it, in the dark, in the rocking chair, and just talk and pray for him/her. Maybe it's because that's a little glimpse of what God does with us before we're an embryo,fetus, or whatever.)
Now, here's the thing: we may not always like some of the things that are woven into us. There are plenty of things in my own life that I wish God hadn't chosen to include in his knitting. Yet, there is a tremendous sense of peace and hope that comes in knowing he selected each one for a purpose, and that he knows every single thread used and has complete control over them all. What a wonderful thing that is happening, even right now all over the world. . . in complete darkness.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Just 'Cause
Okay, here's the thing: take a minute, just relax, forget about all the crap that's going on, and do two things today. One, go to www.pandora.com, and create your own radio station. This thing is amazing! You type in an artist you like, and then the thing builds a radio station around that artist with other artists who have similair musical qualities. They get an A++ for mixing it up, and finally, finally there's a radio station that plays Jason Miraz one minute and Chris Rice the next. (If you're wondering what's so amazing about that, Chris Rice typically gets played only on "Christian radio" and Jason Miraz on "secular radio," and just typing those terms makes me want to throw up, but anyway that's for another post.)
The other thing you need to do is download Chris Rice's CD What a Heart is Beating For, and listen to "Here Comes Those Eyes." I've never owned a Chris Rice CD, but thanks to Pandora, I heard "Here Comes Those Eyes" (on my "Eric Hutchison" Station), and was hooked! It's 2:29 of pure fun, romance, and I dare you to listen to this song and keep your foot from tapping the floor. I'm on my fourth time through this morning!
The other thing you need to do is download Chris Rice's CD What a Heart is Beating For, and listen to "Here Comes Those Eyes." I've never owned a Chris Rice CD, but thanks to Pandora, I heard "Here Comes Those Eyes" (on my "Eric Hutchison" Station), and was hooked! It's 2:29 of pure fun, romance, and I dare you to listen to this song and keep your foot from tapping the floor. I'm on my fourth time through this morning!
Common to Man
A few weeks ago, in Connecticut, a chimpanzee named Travis attacked the friend of his owner and nearly killed her, ripping her face off and requiring her to need a face transplant. His owner, Sandra Herold, had to stab him to get him to stop, and then he was finally shot by police. The story made national headlines for several days, and as details began to come out about the relationship between Sandra and Travis, the story became even more bizarre. As it turns out Sandra's daughter and husband are both dead, and she and Travis had a very close relationship. Stories about them snuggling in bed together, taking baths together, Sandra serving Travis wine in stemmed glasses, Travis brushing Sandra's hair, made for some very uncomfortable moments as news anchors had to try and transition from this story to the other news of the day.
The more I listened to this story, the more my heart was broken for Sandra Herold. But not because I considered her some demented woman who deserved my pity for having a mental break or not being able to deal with the grief of losing her daughter and husband. Instead, I saw in Sandra myself. On some level, like me, Sandra longed for community, she longed for someone to be there for her, and instead of turning to Christ, she turned to a chimp. Crazy? Well, maybe, and I'd probably love to throne stones of scorn and ridicule at her, but the path to the rockpile is blocked by all the things that I turn to instead of Christ that are just as ridiculous.
Here's the thing: we are all longing for something in life, and we all have painkillers that we turn to to numb us up when we don't get that longing fulfilled. For some people it could be their spouse, for some it's academics, work for others, food for some, shopping, sex, suicide, pornography, sports, etc. I've got mine as well, my own little "medicine chest" full of things that I look to for comfort when life gets too hard and to confusing, and while mine might be more common than Sandra's was and more accepted by society, when you peel back the layers, they are just as pathetic and just as sad.
I hope and pray there's someone around her who will reach out and point Sandra to the one thing, the one person who actually can fulfill her and meet her needs. If not, I can send her some of the things I turn to so often. Unfortunately, I've got plenty to spare.
The more I listened to this story, the more my heart was broken for Sandra Herold. But not because I considered her some demented woman who deserved my pity for having a mental break or not being able to deal with the grief of losing her daughter and husband. Instead, I saw in Sandra myself. On some level, like me, Sandra longed for community, she longed for someone to be there for her, and instead of turning to Christ, she turned to a chimp. Crazy? Well, maybe, and I'd probably love to throne stones of scorn and ridicule at her, but the path to the rockpile is blocked by all the things that I turn to instead of Christ that are just as ridiculous.
Here's the thing: we are all longing for something in life, and we all have painkillers that we turn to to numb us up when we don't get that longing fulfilled. For some people it could be their spouse, for some it's academics, work for others, food for some, shopping, sex, suicide, pornography, sports, etc. I've got mine as well, my own little "medicine chest" full of things that I look to for comfort when life gets too hard and to confusing, and while mine might be more common than Sandra's was and more accepted by society, when you peel back the layers, they are just as pathetic and just as sad.
I hope and pray there's someone around her who will reach out and point Sandra to the one thing, the one person who actually can fulfill her and meet her needs. If not, I can send her some of the things I turn to so often. Unfortunately, I've got plenty to spare.
Sunday School Sneak Peek
Last week in Sunday School, Chad explained to everyone the struggle the church has had trying to find a teacher for EPIC, and he asked you to be praying that someone would become available for the Spring Quarter (that begins this week). Well, God has been gracious in answering our prayers, and Craig Branch--he's Mary's husband, Chip's father, and an elder at OMPC--became available and will begin teaching EPIC this Sunday! What a blessing that God has seen fit to answer our prayers so quickly and by giving us not only someone who's already committed to the Singles Ministry, but is also one of the leading experts on what he'll be teaching.
As a follow-up to the series we finished last week on Acts, Craig will be continuing our look at evangelism from the perspective of Apologetics. Where our study of Acts showed us the heart behind evangelism, and biblical examples of how the early church practiced engaging the lost around them, this series on Apologetics will help us look at practical ways to "make a defense" of the Gospel, not only generally, but to specific groups who believe things counter to the faith. Do you have co-workers who are Muslims? What about your neighbor who, when you invited her to church, told you she is an atheist? Over the course of the next 6 weeks, Craig will be equipping us with specific and practical ways to engage a wide variety of folks we come in contact with everyday.
So, thanks for praying that God would provide someone to teach our class, and we'll see you all Sunday morning at 9:05, in Room S-180. Have a great weekend!
As a follow-up to the series we finished last week on Acts, Craig will be continuing our look at evangelism from the perspective of Apologetics. Where our study of Acts showed us the heart behind evangelism, and biblical examples of how the early church practiced engaging the lost around them, this series on Apologetics will help us look at practical ways to "make a defense" of the Gospel, not only generally, but to specific groups who believe things counter to the faith. Do you have co-workers who are Muslims? What about your neighbor who, when you invited her to church, told you she is an atheist? Over the course of the next 6 weeks, Craig will be equipping us with specific and practical ways to engage a wide variety of folks we come in contact with everyday.
So, thanks for praying that God would provide someone to teach our class, and we'll see you all Sunday morning at 9:05, in Room S-180. Have a great weekend!
Monday, February 23, 2009
Sunday School Leftovers: A View from the Beach
So yesterday I had some of the most fun teaching I've had in a while! For the past week I haven't been able to shake two things from the passage in Acts we looked at:
One, is that ministry, real, normal Christian ministry is ministry of tears and trials. It is not ministry that's easy, clean, or neat. It is ministry that requires much of those who chose to enter into it, because it means entering into the lives of those around you.
The second thing is the image of Paul and the Ephesian elders kneeling on the beach, with the ship just over shoulder, ready to take Paul to Jerusalem. I've wondered all week what the Singles Ministry at OMPC would look like, how it might be different if we viewed our lives as racing the clock. If we kept the perspective that there is a ship just off-shore, waiting to take us to the next port (marriage, a different city).
It's hard for me to look at our group and say, "Well, here are the things we're doing that are 'wastes of time.'" That just seems to me to be a pretty cynical and unmotivating way to encourage ministry. What I can see clearly, though, is a picture of what it would look like if we really lived with these two mindsets at the forefront of everything we did. It's a pretty amazing and terrifying picture, and I pray that I get the chance to be around to see it happen.
Boy! What a view!
One, is that ministry, real, normal Christian ministry is ministry of tears and trials. It is not ministry that's easy, clean, or neat. It is ministry that requires much of those who chose to enter into it, because it means entering into the lives of those around you.
The second thing is the image of Paul and the Ephesian elders kneeling on the beach, with the ship just over shoulder, ready to take Paul to Jerusalem. I've wondered all week what the Singles Ministry at OMPC would look like, how it might be different if we viewed our lives as racing the clock. If we kept the perspective that there is a ship just off-shore, waiting to take us to the next port (marriage, a different city).
It's hard for me to look at our group and say, "Well, here are the things we're doing that are 'wastes of time.'" That just seems to me to be a pretty cynical and unmotivating way to encourage ministry. What I can see clearly, though, is a picture of what it would look like if we really lived with these two mindsets at the forefront of everything we did. It's a pretty amazing and terrifying picture, and I pray that I get the chance to be around to see it happen.
Boy! What a view!
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