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.
Monday, July 20, 2009
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.
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