A couple of weeks ago I helped out with the Recreation part of VBS (that's Vacation Bible School for all the older ones reading this who still remember felt board Bible lessons and macaroni crosses in crafts), and one of the days I was in charge of keeping an eye on the kids playing in and on the playground. I'm always struck watching little kids play together because I learn so much from them.
As soon as they got going sliding, running, and expending copious amounts of energy, one of the little girls ran up to me and asked, "Mr. Noah, will you play with me?" I smiled and told her how much I appreciated her asking but that I needed to keep an eye on all the other kids and maybe she should ask someone else. I watched as she proceeded to approach a group of three girls timidly and ask the all-important question to them, "Will you play with me?" As I did, I realized that much as it is the make-or-break question for a kid on the playground, we as adults have similar situations throughout our lives.
Here's the thing: we come into social situations (high school, college, church, work, parties) with all our insecurities, all our frailties, all our perceived weaknesses, and we see all these already-formed groups of people having conversations, talking, laughing, and getting along. And in these situations of corporate monkey bars and social rope climbs, all we want is for someone to play with us. To find someone or a group of someones who will accept us into their game and keep us from being relegated to watching from the sidelines.
Thankfully, the group she asked willingly let the little girl in, and they laughed and played until it was time to move to the next part of VBS. But you and I both know this might not always be the case for her, and it certainly isn't always the case for adults. On playgrounds when no one will play with you it's okay to cry and be sad, and there are usually adults around to comfort you and make it all better, but in the adult world we don't always have those options available. Too often when adults aren't included we smile, pretend it's no big deal, and bury the hurt or whatever emotions are conjured up.
I hope and pray that I will be someone who is ready with a "yes" whenever anyone, no matter what they look like, smell like, act like, etc. asks me if I'll play with them. After all, isn't that what Christ did for me?
Showing posts with label Culture and the Gospel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Culture and the Gospel. Show all posts
Saturday, June 19, 2010
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
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.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
That's My Pile of Ashes You're Sitting On!
On Tuesday, a majority of the people in the United States of America went to the polls and elected Barak Obama as the 44th President of this country. For many Christians where I live, this was a sad, sad day and one that has driven them to despair and lamentation about the next four years. For some it's God's judgement on our country for the moral state we've allowed to take hold. For others this is evidence of sin and the falleness of the world in which we live. I've heard a lot over the past 48 hours from Christians about the trajedy of it all, but what I haven't heard a lot of is praising God for his sovereignty and absolute will that was done on Tuesday, November 4th.
See, here's the thing: Romans 13:1-7 is pretty clear on this subject, and keep in mind, Paul was writing to Christians who were living under a government that fed them to lions for sport. "what God has appointed," "God's servant," "minster of God," these are the phrases the Bible uses to describe President-Elect Obama. From before the foundation of the world, God the Father, put into motion things which would lead to what happened this past Tuesday. His plan for Barak Obama was for him to become our president, and his plan for our country was that Barak Obama would be our president at this time.
So often I accept God's sovereignty as a kind of "parting gift" for not winning the real prize: what I want. It's like I just chalk all the crap that happens, everything contrary to my will, to God's sovereignty and resign to live under it. Instead, I should see God as always, in all things, working to spread his glory and the fame of his name, and view his sovereignty as an integral component of that.
If that's the case, then not only is President-Elect Obama God's sovereign will, but his being president is the most glorifying to God over anything else that could have happened last Tuesday! I need to be able to look at the big picture, and see this election for what it really is: God bringing his will to pass and glorifying himself in amazing ways. Then, I need to get with the program and glorify him myself.
See, here's the thing: Romans 13:1-7 is pretty clear on this subject, and keep in mind, Paul was writing to Christians who were living under a government that fed them to lions for sport. "what God has appointed," "God's servant," "minster of God," these are the phrases the Bible uses to describe President-Elect Obama. From before the foundation of the world, God the Father, put into motion things which would lead to what happened this past Tuesday. His plan for Barak Obama was for him to become our president, and his plan for our country was that Barak Obama would be our president at this time.
So often I accept God's sovereignty as a kind of "parting gift" for not winning the real prize: what I want. It's like I just chalk all the crap that happens, everything contrary to my will, to God's sovereignty and resign to live under it. Instead, I should see God as always, in all things, working to spread his glory and the fame of his name, and view his sovereignty as an integral component of that.
If that's the case, then not only is President-Elect Obama God's sovereign will, but his being president is the most glorifying to God over anything else that could have happened last Tuesday! I need to be able to look at the big picture, and see this election for what it really is: God bringing his will to pass and glorifying himself in amazing ways. Then, I need to get with the program and glorify him myself.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
A Bigger Box
Next Tuesday, November 4, the citizens of the United States of America will go to the polls and vote for the person they believe will be best next president of the country. And, presumably, barring any kind of weird 2000 stuff, when you wake up on Wednesday morning (or for those like me who won't go to bed until a winner's announced!) the anchors will be telling us who we elected.
I was thinking today about next Tuesday and here's the things that popped into my head:
I was thinking today about next Tuesday and here's the things that popped into my head:
- Heaven will be no different on Wednesday morning than it is today or was the day the Red Sea was parted.
- God has already ordained who will be elected. (Notice I didn't say "allowed." I said "ordained." God is not a passive observer of the affairs of men. He is active, always bringing about his will.)
- Depending on who wins, there will be some people who will feel a stronger need to pray for America on Wednesday than they do today, and that just seems odd to me.
The election, in fact politics in general, is very important. I think Christians should be active and involved, as a part of our Genesis 2 mandate and our desire to see every part of the world redeemed. I just hope we don't trade our theology for it.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
To the Left of the Cabbage Patch
Here's the thing that made me really sad today. It's a story about women who buy very lifelike dolls and treat them as real babies, talking to them, putting them in car seats, etc. http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/26970782
One of the ladies told Matt Lauer, "It fills a spot in your heart." And this is the root of where my sadness lies. I'm not saying these women are pathetic or sad. What makes me sad is that there's a deep felt need in their lives, and that they're going about filling it in a way that's certain to lead to disappointment. There's a spot in their hearts that for whatever reason wasn't filled, and they're finding it filled, at least for now, by something that isn't real. I can't imagine the pain or regret or whatever that's behind each story, but there is something inside me that wishes I could sit down with them, talk about my own struggle to find fulfillment in things that aren't real, and give them a huge hug. Not that my hug would fill the void, but I so wish they could know that someone loves and cares about them, and more importantly that there is a God who loves and cares about them as well.
We all have our dolls, those things we seek to fill our spots. Maybe it's money, or a job, or an older man/woman in a relationship. Maybe it's a younger man/woman in a relationship. Maybe it's public service, but it's good for me to see stories like this and be reminded that really, all those things are just like plastic dolls. They aren't real, and they aren't ultimately going to fill the spot in my heart.
One of the ladies told Matt Lauer, "It fills a spot in your heart." And this is the root of where my sadness lies. I'm not saying these women are pathetic or sad. What makes me sad is that there's a deep felt need in their lives, and that they're going about filling it in a way that's certain to lead to disappointment. There's a spot in their hearts that for whatever reason wasn't filled, and they're finding it filled, at least for now, by something that isn't real. I can't imagine the pain or regret or whatever that's behind each story, but there is something inside me that wishes I could sit down with them, talk about my own struggle to find fulfillment in things that aren't real, and give them a huge hug. Not that my hug would fill the void, but I so wish they could know that someone loves and cares about them, and more importantly that there is a God who loves and cares about them as well.
We all have our dolls, those things we seek to fill our spots. Maybe it's money, or a job, or an older man/woman in a relationship. Maybe it's a younger man/woman in a relationship. Maybe it's public service, but it's good for me to see stories like this and be reminded that really, all those things are just like plastic dolls. They aren't real, and they aren't ultimately going to fill the spot in my heart.
Monday, September 15, 2008
What Am I Looking For?
Take a minute and read this short article at msnbc.com: http://nbcsports.msnbc.com/id/26720566/. Now, here's a question, how does reading this article affect the way you would pray for the missionaries from your denomination or para-church organization who are serving in the Congo? How do you share the gospel with a culture that believes in witchcraft so much that a rumor could start at a soccer game that one of the players was using it on the field? How do you offer Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord, when the police's response to the chaos is to protect, not the people, but their own leader, and fire guns into the air? How do you talk about hope in a place that's been a battlefield for civil war?
See, here's the thing: when I read articles in the news it's easy for me to dismiss them as far-off places, and not realize that there are probably missionaries who have followed God's calling on their life to go to these places and share the gospel with the people that live there. It's easy for me to read articles like this as news and forget that really they give me a wonderful prayer guide for countries, cities, and regions of the world I've never been too. Just imagine, that in this couple paragraph article, I have all the information I need to intercede before the Lord on behalf of missionaries I'll probably never even meet! And that's true of almost any story from any country in the world. In too many cases, though, I'm not looking and so I don't see.
See, here's the thing: when I read articles in the news it's easy for me to dismiss them as far-off places, and not realize that there are probably missionaries who have followed God's calling on their life to go to these places and share the gospel with the people that live there. It's easy for me to read articles like this as news and forget that really they give me a wonderful prayer guide for countries, cities, and regions of the world I've never been too. Just imagine, that in this couple paragraph article, I have all the information I need to intercede before the Lord on behalf of missionaries I'll probably never even meet! And that's true of almost any story from any country in the world. In too many cases, though, I'm not looking and so I don't see.
Friday, August 29, 2008
The Essentials
I made my monthly trek to Wal-Mart today to stock up on groceries for the month. It's not really "for the month," 'cause there's always something else I have to get more of later, but it's when I buy most of what I'll need to cook over the next thirty days. As I was standing at the register, while the cashier rug up my order, I was struck by the fact that, judging from what I had piled on the conveyor belt waiting to be scanned, along with what was already in bags quickly filling my buggy, it was hard to believe the economy is really as bad as everyone says it is. I mean, it was a little hard to look at my steak, pork chops, two bottles of wine, cans of beans, frozen vegetables, and lots of etc., and think that we're at a point in this country of having to "cut back." In my case, I'm on the lower end of the middle class circles I run in, and I can still afford more food than most families around the world can buy in a year. (Actually, if the facts and statistics hold true, it was probably more food than the girl ringing me up could afford as well.) And even if I find myself in abject poverty tomorrow - the poor in the U.S. still have more resources available to them than the average working person in most of the world.
Now, here's the thing: this didn't make me feel guilty. Feeling guilty about being born in America, in middles class hovers very near telling God he doesn't know what he's doing, and I'm just not ready to go there yet. No, instead it just made me grateful. Grateful in the fact that it would take me about six trips back-and-forth from the car to get all the sacks brought in the house, and grateful that it would take me about thirty minutes to put everything away. And hopefully, hopefully grateful when it gets to the middle of the month, and I'm whining about the fact that there's nothing to eat!
Now, here's the thing: this didn't make me feel guilty. Feeling guilty about being born in America, in middles class hovers very near telling God he doesn't know what he's doing, and I'm just not ready to go there yet. No, instead it just made me grateful. Grateful in the fact that it would take me about six trips back-and-forth from the car to get all the sacks brought in the house, and grateful that it would take me about thirty minutes to put everything away. And hopefully, hopefully grateful when it gets to the middle of the month, and I'm whining about the fact that there's nothing to eat!
Monday, August 11, 2008
Two Mirrors, Please.
I was talking with someone over the weekend about John Edwards' affair. Maybe you haven't heard the story. If you haven't, it's tragic. We use the word "affair" because it's pretty benign, pretty harmless, cute almost, but the reality is that this married man had sex with a woman who was not his wife. He committed what the Bible calls adultery, and that is devastating. But, anyway, I was telling the person how, even though I don't agree with John Edwards on most things politically, I always really admired his commitment to his wife, his family, the way he really seemed to love and value being a husband and dad. The person I was talking to replied," And now, don't you just think all that was a show." My response was, "No, because I know myself, and I know that I can say I believe one thing and then act in a way that indicates I believe quite another."
See, here's the thing, if my actions dictated my beliefs, I'd be in real trouble, because there are days when what I say and do would mean that I believe lying is okay, hatred is fine, and even some moments when there isn't a God at all. I mean, it's easy to jump on John Edwards, call him a fake, and chalk him up as just another politician who said one thing and did another, but I have a hard time doing that. Maybe because I see much of myself in John Edwards, and I hope and pray that, like me, his beliefs are steady and firm even when his actions don't quite match up.
See, here's the thing, if my actions dictated my beliefs, I'd be in real trouble, because there are days when what I say and do would mean that I believe lying is okay, hatred is fine, and even some moments when there isn't a God at all. I mean, it's easy to jump on John Edwards, call him a fake, and chalk him up as just another politician who said one thing and did another, but I have a hard time doing that. Maybe because I see much of myself in John Edwards, and I hope and pray that, like me, his beliefs are steady and firm even when his actions don't quite match up.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Say Goodnight, Peter Pan
I just finished reading The Brothers Karamazov, and I was reminded once again as to why I love this book so much. It takes me a long time to read it; the version I have is about 776 pages long. Of course being that long, there's room for a little bit of everything: love stories, mysteries, and lots and lots of sub-plots.
Here's the thing that seemed to strike me more this time than before, it's the idea of a hero. In the "From the Author" section at the beginning of the book, Dostoevsky says that Aloysha Karamazov is the hero of his story. I mean, this is every English major's dream: the author telling you, very clearly, who the hero of the story is. Funny thing, though, is that when I read it, I don't see it. In fact, the first time I read the book, I almost completely forgot that Aloysha was suppose to be the hero. It's not that he's a minor character by any means. It's just that he doesn't fit my pre-conceived notions of what the hero of a book should be like, act like, etc. This time, I read through it trying to make the case for Aloysha as the hero, and even in that it just seemed so odd to me that I would have to work to prove that a character was the hero. I mean, come on, Dostoevsky, why not make it a little more obvious?
But, then it struck me that maybe, just maybe, the genius of it all, the reality of it, lies in the fact that Aloysha isn't the obvious choice for hero. In fact, there isn't really an obvious choice in the entire 776 pages. I think about that in the Christian life too. So often it isn't the obvious people who are heroically living out the Christian life. It's the woman with terminal cancer who's praising the God who ordained she should be dying. It's the man whose covenant son was arrested the night before and still gets up to read his Bible the next morning. It's the person who can't tell you where in the Bible it says it but knows really well how to "rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep." Even the ultimate hero of the ultimate story was a carpenter who rode a donkey.
I guess Dostoevsky was right after all. Aloysha is the hero of the story. Maybe to understand that you just have to give up the fairy tales. The book's gotten longer and more involved. Talking mice, pumpkins, and white horses just seem too simple for grown-ups.
Here's the thing that seemed to strike me more this time than before, it's the idea of a hero. In the "From the Author" section at the beginning of the book, Dostoevsky says that Aloysha Karamazov is the hero of his story. I mean, this is every English major's dream: the author telling you, very clearly, who the hero of the story is. Funny thing, though, is that when I read it, I don't see it. In fact, the first time I read the book, I almost completely forgot that Aloysha was suppose to be the hero. It's not that he's a minor character by any means. It's just that he doesn't fit my pre-conceived notions of what the hero of a book should be like, act like, etc. This time, I read through it trying to make the case for Aloysha as the hero, and even in that it just seemed so odd to me that I would have to work to prove that a character was the hero. I mean, come on, Dostoevsky, why not make it a little more obvious?
But, then it struck me that maybe, just maybe, the genius of it all, the reality of it, lies in the fact that Aloysha isn't the obvious choice for hero. In fact, there isn't really an obvious choice in the entire 776 pages. I think about that in the Christian life too. So often it isn't the obvious people who are heroically living out the Christian life. It's the woman with terminal cancer who's praising the God who ordained she should be dying. It's the man whose covenant son was arrested the night before and still gets up to read his Bible the next morning. It's the person who can't tell you where in the Bible it says it but knows really well how to "rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep." Even the ultimate hero of the ultimate story was a carpenter who rode a donkey.
I guess Dostoevsky was right after all. Aloysha is the hero of the story. Maybe to understand that you just have to give up the fairy tales. The book's gotten longer and more involved. Talking mice, pumpkins, and white horses just seem too simple for grown-ups.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
How Does That Fit?
About a month ago I started working part-time at Banana Republic. There were a lot of reasons for doing so, but one of the reasons was that, working in a church full-time like I do, I just felt out-of-touch with the world, and I wasn't getting a lot of face time with non-believers. . . at least, not much time with folks who would admit they're non-believers!
It's always interesting to me to see the worldviews of individuals, groups, organizations, and businesses. Here's a sampling of things I've been told since I started working that will give you some clue as to, at least part of Banana's operating mindset:
It's always interesting to me to see the worldviews of individuals, groups, organizations, and businesses. Here's a sampling of things I've been told since I started working that will give you some clue as to, at least part of Banana's operating mindset:
- People shop at Banana Republic because they want others to see them walking around with the "Banana Republic" bag.
- Your job is to get people to buy as much as possible.
- A great way to get people to buy more is to let them know about things that others are buying. People want to have what others have.
- It's easy for a guy to make sells in the Women's Dept. Just tell her she looks good in it, and she'll buy it.
- People who shop at Banana want everyone to think their clothes came from high-end stores in New York, even if they can't afford those clothes.
- Play into people's egos.
Amazing, huh?! I mean, these are actual statements I've heard since I started working there, and my guess is these types of ideals aren't exclusive to Banana Republic. Here's the thing: it's easy for me to condemn this mindset. It's easy for me to think this is disgusting, and immoral, and it is. . . until I realize that many of these statements are true about me as a shopper.
The refreshing thing is that Banana makes no apologies for this worldview. They're bold about these things, and I find myself being envious of them. I wish I were that honest about the things in my life that are disgusting and immoral. I wish I didn't spend so much time trying to spiritualize my sin, and just let it hang out there for others to see. It's not that Banana Republic is right. It's just that I'm pretty sure my hypocrisy is wrong.
Monday, May 19, 2008
A Bitter Pill?
In Romans 13:1-2, Paul writes to the Romans, "Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement."
Food rotted in planes, sitting on runways, ready to take off, but the government in Myanmar wouldn't give the pilots visas to get in the country.
For there is no authority except from God.
Hundreds of thousands of people will most likely starve to death because the government in Myanmar is keeping the best of the aid coming in for themselves and giving old, unhealthy food to the suffering citizens.
Those that exist have been instituted by God.
Health officials fear disease will become a big problem because the government in Myanmar isn't allowing doctors and nurses to go in and treat those in need of medical attention.
Whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed.
Here's the thing: can you handle a God like this? When you watch the news and become angry at the absolute heinous actions of the government in Myanmar, do you ever stop to think that the ruling junta has been appointed and given authority in that country by God? A God who knew that this cyclone was going to happen while they were in power and what their reaction would be?
Just something to think about.
Food rotted in planes, sitting on runways, ready to take off, but the government in Myanmar wouldn't give the pilots visas to get in the country.
For there is no authority except from God.
Hundreds of thousands of people will most likely starve to death because the government in Myanmar is keeping the best of the aid coming in for themselves and giving old, unhealthy food to the suffering citizens.
Those that exist have been instituted by God.
Health officials fear disease will become a big problem because the government in Myanmar isn't allowing doctors and nurses to go in and treat those in need of medical attention.
Whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed.
Here's the thing: can you handle a God like this? When you watch the news and become angry at the absolute heinous actions of the government in Myanmar, do you ever stop to think that the ruling junta has been appointed and given authority in that country by God? A God who knew that this cyclone was going to happen while they were in power and what their reaction would be?
Just something to think about.
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