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.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
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.
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