We're back in Sunday School this week, and we'll be having a little bit of a mixed bag to our time. I'll be doing a summary/review of the 3 E's. For those who might not know, the "3 E's" come from the mission statement of the OMPC singles ministry. They're the three phrases that help us remember what we're supposed to be about: encouraging the body, equipping believers, and engaging the lost. The really great thing is that, taken with the way Chad ended his lesson two weeks ago, the 3 E's actually provide a really nice introduction to the book of Acts that we'll be studying in January and February. After that, we're going to spend some time brainstorming and praying for 2009 and the singles ministry. The leadership team is pretty excited about this time, because we really do feel like we lead with the entire group, and we want to hear what you have to say.
I know that many will be out of town, recovering from the holidays, etc., but I really want to encourage those who are around to be there at 9:05am, in Room S-180. See you then!
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
Put the Sleigh in Park
So, Christmas 2008 is done for me. I've got a couple of things to return, and the decorations still have to be taken down, but all in all, I'm finished for another year. Can I just say, that I love the week after Christmas? For so many people this week is a let-down: no more presents, no more expectation, and it's like the wind that was pushing this chaotic busy ship forward for the past four weeks is gone. But, for me, the week after Christmas is a time to relax and catch my breath after the busyness of the past month. I'm also pretty reflective, and so I love the closing out of a year and having the time to sit and think back over all that's happened. Usually, it's a mixed bag. There are some regrets, some things to be thankful for, happy times and sadness, and it's a great chance for me to find comfort (if I will) in God's sovereignty in my life. I love seeing how through it all, my sin, the falleness of this world I live in, the blessings, and the small victories, God is leading me and guiding me and using it all to accomplish his will in my life.
Here's the thing: reflection can sometimes be a dangerous thing. Because we are all born with a sinful nature, depression, feeling sorry for ourselves, and going "dark" is something we all have the potential to struggle with. And yet, there is a sense in which God has called his people to reflect. In the Old Testament he was always pointing the Israelites, his chosen people's eyes forward, calling on them to look ahead to their home in the Promised Land and the Messiah that would come and save them, but there were times when he would instruct them to take a minute and reflect, to look back and see where he'd work and remember his faithfulness. They might seem mutually exclusive exercises, but they're necessarily linked, because if I don't take time to regularly remember God's character and faithfulness, it's nearly impossible for me to trust him with what's to come.
The trick is, like most other things in life, to take my eyes off myself. This isn't looking back on Jason, and myself this past year. It's looking back on God and what he's been doing, his character and the ways that character has become more clearly visible the past twelve months.
Here's the thing: reflection can sometimes be a dangerous thing. Because we are all born with a sinful nature, depression, feeling sorry for ourselves, and going "dark" is something we all have the potential to struggle with. And yet, there is a sense in which God has called his people to reflect. In the Old Testament he was always pointing the Israelites, his chosen people's eyes forward, calling on them to look ahead to their home in the Promised Land and the Messiah that would come and save them, but there were times when he would instruct them to take a minute and reflect, to look back and see where he'd work and remember his faithfulness. They might seem mutually exclusive exercises, but they're necessarily linked, because if I don't take time to regularly remember God's character and faithfulness, it's nearly impossible for me to trust him with what's to come.
The trick is, like most other things in life, to take my eyes off myself. This isn't looking back on Jason, and myself this past year. It's looking back on God and what he's been doing, his character and the ways that character has become more clearly visible the past twelve months.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Caroling, Caroling: Joy to the World
Okay, here's the thing about "Joy to the World,": did you know that if you look in most hymnals (those books with all the songs that we used to sing out of in churches) that this song will be listed, not really with the Christmas carols, but with the advent carols? It's supposedly a song that's to be sung before Christmas ever gets here. Why is that significant? Well, it's significant because if you relegate to the "advent hymns/carols" pile, you might miss the fact that the meaning of this song doesn't actually end with Christ's first coming. This Christmas, as you sing "Joy to the World," sing it as someone who's looking for Christ's return, his second coming to earth, when he will restore, judge, and make all things new, right, as they should be. I love Mariah Carey's version of this song from her CD Merry Christmas. Enjoy!
Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
("Is come." He's coming. This is the hope of the believer: that Christ will come again. That he will make things right again. What a promise that we have to look forward too, and that will be the day of complete, true joy for the world.)
Let earth receive her King;
(A reminder that he will come as king on that day. The first time he came he was, in essence, king of the world, but that's not how he came. When he returns, he will come in that capacity, to set up reign.)
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing.
Joy to the earth, the Savior reigns!
Let men their songs employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains
(A foreshadowing of how the entire earth will be "singing" at the return of Christ, when he makes all creation new and redeems it from the damage and destruction of man's sin.)
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat, repeat, the sounding joy.
No more let sins and sorrows grow,
(The ever-increasing number of sins and sorrows on this earth, will be stopped with Christ's return. Not only will they be stopped, but they will be wiped out totally, completely.)
Nor thorns infest the ground;
(An allusion to the curse that God put on man and the earth after Adam and Eve's sin in Genesis 3. With the promise in Revelation, comes the promise of a new Heavens and a new Earth.)
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
(I love these lines, because they remind me that the Gospel, which was instituted by Christ's first coming to earth, is able to reach far and wide. There's not a person that the gospel doesn't have the power to save, and there's not a situation or life that the gospel doesn't have the ability to transform and redeem. Just when I think situations are hopeless, here's a reminder that as far as the curse of sin goes, so does the transforming power of the gospel.)
Far as, far as, the curse is found.
He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love,
And wonders of His love,
(When Christ is king, his character is proven. The attributes of who he is are seen in the way he changes those who are his. When a people have the gospel, they have change. There can be no question that change will occur, even if it's not as quick or dramatic as we would like. On the hearts of men is where you'll find the record and evidence of Christ's coming.)
And wonders, wonders, of His love.
Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
("Is come." He's coming. This is the hope of the believer: that Christ will come again. That he will make things right again. What a promise that we have to look forward too, and that will be the day of complete, true joy for the world.)
Let earth receive her King;
(A reminder that he will come as king on that day. The first time he came he was, in essence, king of the world, but that's not how he came. When he returns, he will come in that capacity, to set up reign.)
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing.
Joy to the earth, the Savior reigns!
Let men their songs employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains
(A foreshadowing of how the entire earth will be "singing" at the return of Christ, when he makes all creation new and redeems it from the damage and destruction of man's sin.)
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat, repeat, the sounding joy.
No more let sins and sorrows grow,
(The ever-increasing number of sins and sorrows on this earth, will be stopped with Christ's return. Not only will they be stopped, but they will be wiped out totally, completely.)
Nor thorns infest the ground;
(An allusion to the curse that God put on man and the earth after Adam and Eve's sin in Genesis 3. With the promise in Revelation, comes the promise of a new Heavens and a new Earth.)
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
(I love these lines, because they remind me that the Gospel, which was instituted by Christ's first coming to earth, is able to reach far and wide. There's not a person that the gospel doesn't have the power to save, and there's not a situation or life that the gospel doesn't have the ability to transform and redeem. Just when I think situations are hopeless, here's a reminder that as far as the curse of sin goes, so does the transforming power of the gospel.)
Far as, far as, the curse is found.
He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love,
And wonders of His love,
(When Christ is king, his character is proven. The attributes of who he is are seen in the way he changes those who are his. When a people have the gospel, they have change. There can be no question that change will occur, even if it's not as quick or dramatic as we would like. On the hearts of men is where you'll find the record and evidence of Christ's coming.)
And wonders, wonders, of His love.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Am I Paying Attention?
Have you ever been halfway listening to someone, and they say something that you really aren't paying attention to, but then you realize that what they said was really important, and it stops you dead in your tracks? That's what happened to me today. I was out working in our yard, and the little boy from across the street came over. He's pretty lonely, so he talks a lot, and I have to admit, that in the midst of stories about snakes that he really never saw and adventures that never really happened, I kind of tuned him out. Then, the following exchange took place:
"Jason, my shoe's untied, can you tie it for me?"
"Sure, sit down on the step, and I'll tie it for you."
"When I was five I knew how to tie my shoe, but now that I'm six, I don't anymore."
"That's odd. Did you forget how?"
"No, it's just that no one's ever shown me how before."
I was back raking leaves, before I realized what he said. Here this little boy is, six-years-old, and no one's ever taken time to show him how to tie his shoe. It's hard to see how to rake leaves with tears in your eyes. Suddenly, I was tuned in to every word he said, listening for what was really being said behind all the made-up stories, and lies about his life. Here's the thing: it's easy for me to tune people out and pretend that I'm listening and engaged when really my mind is far away. I do it because I spend so much time listening to people. I do it, because I'm pretty good at asking the right questions and making the right comments so that folks think I'm paying attention. But mostly, I do it because my heart is not nearly softened enough towards people, and it's days like today that remind me that a lot is being said, and I need to pay attention.
"Jason, my shoe's untied, can you tie it for me?"
"Sure, sit down on the step, and I'll tie it for you."
"When I was five I knew how to tie my shoe, but now that I'm six, I don't anymore."
"That's odd. Did you forget how?"
"No, it's just that no one's ever shown me how before."
I was back raking leaves, before I realized what he said. Here this little boy is, six-years-old, and no one's ever taken time to show him how to tie his shoe. It's hard to see how to rake leaves with tears in your eyes. Suddenly, I was tuned in to every word he said, listening for what was really being said behind all the made-up stories, and lies about his life. Here's the thing: it's easy for me to tune people out and pretend that I'm listening and engaged when really my mind is far away. I do it because I spend so much time listening to people. I do it, because I'm pretty good at asking the right questions and making the right comments so that folks think I'm paying attention. But mostly, I do it because my heart is not nearly softened enough towards people, and it's days like today that remind me that a lot is being said, and I need to pay attention.
It's Real
I went to one of those walk-through nativities a couple of weeks ago at a church in the town I grew up in. The folks had done a pretty good job with everything, but I just wasn't feeling it. I'm not sure why, but sometimes it's hard for me to really let my imagination go in places like that, and I was pretty much on guard the whole time. "This isn't real. These people just all live here. I see that kid's tennis shoes." Even for me, a guy who's pretty sappy anyway, especially around Christmas, it just wasn't happening. Then, at one point, we were in one the "shops" and all these kids came running in.
"It's happened!" "He's here!" "Come quickly and see!" Of course, they were announcing the birth of Christ. I don't know what it was about it, but when they ran in and started yelling at us, their excitment seemed so genuine and so real, that my hard heart softened a little bit, and I found myself getting caught up in the moment. I wanted to run to the manger with them to see what was going on. Then, as I was walking out, one of the little kids said to me, "It's so exciting, sir, hope is here!" And that's when the tears welled up in my eyes, because he was exactly right. Hope was here.
Here's the thing: as I've thought about that night, I've been struck at how my heart compelled me to run to the manger to see Jesus. Sometimes I wonder, and especially this year I've wondered, if my heart is becoming too hardened to Christ. I worry sometimes that I could get to the point where I would just go my own way, and like Pilate, no matter how much of Christ I see, I would reject him as the Messiah. And yet, there I was, longing to run and see Jesus, reminded again that it is he who draws me to himself, and that it is nothing that I do or feelings I conjur up that keeps me close.
As I come to the end of this year, I find myself wondering and asking, more than I ever have before in my life, will things ever really change? I wrestle more, at thirty, with the reality that there are sins I've been struggling with as long as I can remember, and they don't seem to be getting "better," and I wonder if I'll still be struggling with them at forty, fifty, and beyond. I have friends whose end to 2008 looks very different than the beginning did, and I struggle with whether it's just simplistic idealism to believe that 2009 could bring real change, real peace, and real victory in their lives. And then, a little boy, in the midst of a little re-enactment, reminds me that with every new observance of Christ's birth comes a fresh wave of hope, and I realize that the questions and thoughts I'm having are outdated. They belong to the mind of someone who lived before Christ was born, because with the coming of God in human flesh, the answer to all my questions about the potential for overcoming my own sins, and the potential for peace and change in the lives of those around me is "yes." With Christ here I no longer need to wonder if change is possible, if peace can be found, if sin can be defeated, because with Christ here it's no longer a question of if but when.
The really amazing thing about waiting for that hope, is that we don't wait alone, because the last phrase of that little boy's sentence was "is here." Christ, the one that brings hope, also brought himself to be with me while I wait for the realization of that hope. The change and peace that I plead with God for in the lives of my friends, may not come in 2009. I may not wake up on January 1, and be instantly freed from some of these sins I've grown so weary of dealing with year after year, but the "is here" part of that sentence lets me know that Christ isn't going anywhere in the midst of all that. He will carry me through this, if I'll just run to him, like I wanted to that night. I guess this is one time I really do need to keep running, straight to the manger because, "It's so exciting. . . hope is here."
"It's happened!" "He's here!" "Come quickly and see!" Of course, they were announcing the birth of Christ. I don't know what it was about it, but when they ran in and started yelling at us, their excitment seemed so genuine and so real, that my hard heart softened a little bit, and I found myself getting caught up in the moment. I wanted to run to the manger with them to see what was going on. Then, as I was walking out, one of the little kids said to me, "It's so exciting, sir, hope is here!" And that's when the tears welled up in my eyes, because he was exactly right. Hope was here.
Here's the thing: as I've thought about that night, I've been struck at how my heart compelled me to run to the manger to see Jesus. Sometimes I wonder, and especially this year I've wondered, if my heart is becoming too hardened to Christ. I worry sometimes that I could get to the point where I would just go my own way, and like Pilate, no matter how much of Christ I see, I would reject him as the Messiah. And yet, there I was, longing to run and see Jesus, reminded again that it is he who draws me to himself, and that it is nothing that I do or feelings I conjur up that keeps me close.
As I come to the end of this year, I find myself wondering and asking, more than I ever have before in my life, will things ever really change? I wrestle more, at thirty, with the reality that there are sins I've been struggling with as long as I can remember, and they don't seem to be getting "better," and I wonder if I'll still be struggling with them at forty, fifty, and beyond. I have friends whose end to 2008 looks very different than the beginning did, and I struggle with whether it's just simplistic idealism to believe that 2009 could bring real change, real peace, and real victory in their lives. And then, a little boy, in the midst of a little re-enactment, reminds me that with every new observance of Christ's birth comes a fresh wave of hope, and I realize that the questions and thoughts I'm having are outdated. They belong to the mind of someone who lived before Christ was born, because with the coming of God in human flesh, the answer to all my questions about the potential for overcoming my own sins, and the potential for peace and change in the lives of those around me is "yes." With Christ here I no longer need to wonder if change is possible, if peace can be found, if sin can be defeated, because with Christ here it's no longer a question of if but when.
The really amazing thing about waiting for that hope, is that we don't wait alone, because the last phrase of that little boy's sentence was "is here." Christ, the one that brings hope, also brought himself to be with me while I wait for the realization of that hope. The change and peace that I plead with God for in the lives of my friends, may not come in 2009. I may not wake up on January 1, and be instantly freed from some of these sins I've grown so weary of dealing with year after year, but the "is here" part of that sentence lets me know that Christ isn't going anywhere in the midst of all that. He will carry me through this, if I'll just run to him, like I wanted to that night. I guess this is one time I really do need to keep running, straight to the manger because, "It's so exciting. . . hope is here."
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Where's the GPS?
Micah, one of the Old Testament prophets writes, "But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days." (Micah 5:2)
See, here's the thing: nothing big should have happened in Bethlehem. No major historical events that would alter the course of the entire universe should have had their beginnings in this little village. Not because there was anything necessarily wrong with Bethlehem, but because it was so tiny, the runt of the litter. And yet, here it is, immortalized for all of eternity, as the place God chose to have his Son born. He had to bring a ruler to power that would order a census to be taken, and even before that, he had to make sure that generations back, Joseph's family originated in Bethlehem, so that when everyone went back to their home cities, Joseph would go to the right place.
But, Bethlehem?! It's the most unappealing choice. It was small. It was unimportant. It was, exactly the kind of ridiculous choice that God would have made! As I think about the choice of Bethlehem and how odd it is, I'm filled with a renewed sense of wonder and hope in a God who uses things that no one really wants or expects much from to house himself. I mean, I read that verse from Micah, and I realize, "I am Bethlehem!" I'm too insignificant, I'm too lowly to be considered anything by the world, and yet I am the place where God chose for his Son to dwell. What a wonderfully absurd truth is brought out by the town of Bethlehem.
See, here's the thing: nothing big should have happened in Bethlehem. No major historical events that would alter the course of the entire universe should have had their beginnings in this little village. Not because there was anything necessarily wrong with Bethlehem, but because it was so tiny, the runt of the litter. And yet, here it is, immortalized for all of eternity, as the place God chose to have his Son born. He had to bring a ruler to power that would order a census to be taken, and even before that, he had to make sure that generations back, Joseph's family originated in Bethlehem, so that when everyone went back to their home cities, Joseph would go to the right place.
But, Bethlehem?! It's the most unappealing choice. It was small. It was unimportant. It was, exactly the kind of ridiculous choice that God would have made! As I think about the choice of Bethlehem and how odd it is, I'm filled with a renewed sense of wonder and hope in a God who uses things that no one really wants or expects much from to house himself. I mean, I read that verse from Micah, and I realize, "I am Bethlehem!" I'm too insignificant, I'm too lowly to be considered anything by the world, and yet I am the place where God chose for his Son to dwell. What a wonderfully absurd truth is brought out by the town of Bethlehem.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Caroling, Caroling: Silent Night! Holy Night!
Here's the thing: I've always thought it was kind of odd that there are exclamation points in this title. They don't seem to fit with the overall mood of the song, and even thought I get that they're kind of proclaiming something, which is a big part of the Christmas story, it just seems strange to me that they would be proclaiming silence and holiness. . . until I started thinking about that more, and I realized that in the world I live silence and holines are such foreign concepts that they almost have to be proclaimed, shouted even, to get the point across. I know it's a little cheesy maybe, but I would recommend Mannheim Steamroller's version of this song, from their CD Christmas, because I think the absence of words and the "new-age" feel that their music has really does what the title indicates, it proclaims silence. (By the way, the song is titled "Stille Nacht" on the CD.)
Silent night, holy night,
All is calm, all is bright
(I'm not sure even on the first Christmas, all was calm, and the Bible indicates that at least with the Israelites, all was not bright. Sound familiar? But I think these lines serve as a reminder to me that, with the coming of the Christ-child, in that moment, because of all that God had planned and because Christ would be obedient and fulfill his Father's will completely, as soon as he took his first human breath, ultimately all was calm and bright because of the hope of redemption.)
Round yon virgin mother and Child.
(I like that this line is in there, because I need to be reminded of Mary's place in the story and the absurdity of having a virgin, teenage girl give birth to the Savior of the world. This is no sentimentality or mere sweetness, this is theology that gives hope!)
Holy Infant, so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Silent night, holy night,
Shepherds quake at the sight;
Glories stream from heaven afar,
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!
(Again, not much about glory coming down from heaven and angels singing that lends itself to peace, but when I'm singing these lines, it's hard for me not to be overwhelmed by the lengths God went to to announce his Son's birth.)
Christ the Savior is born,
Christ the Savior is born!
Silent night, holy night,
Son of God, love’s pure light;
(What an amazing thing to say about Jesus! He was the pureness of love. Looking on Christ, we see the ultimate example of love.)
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
(These are the two lines that get me every time. I dare you to sing them without getting teary-eyed. "With the dawn of redeeming grace." From the very beginning, it was there. The Cross and my redemption was written all over Christ's face from the very beginning.)
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.
Silent night, holy night,
All is calm, all is bright
(I'm not sure even on the first Christmas, all was calm, and the Bible indicates that at least with the Israelites, all was not bright. Sound familiar? But I think these lines serve as a reminder to me that, with the coming of the Christ-child, in that moment, because of all that God had planned and because Christ would be obedient and fulfill his Father's will completely, as soon as he took his first human breath, ultimately all was calm and bright because of the hope of redemption.)
Round yon virgin mother and Child.
(I like that this line is in there, because I need to be reminded of Mary's place in the story and the absurdity of having a virgin, teenage girl give birth to the Savior of the world. This is no sentimentality or mere sweetness, this is theology that gives hope!)
Holy Infant, so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Silent night, holy night,
Shepherds quake at the sight;
Glories stream from heaven afar,
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!
(Again, not much about glory coming down from heaven and angels singing that lends itself to peace, but when I'm singing these lines, it's hard for me not to be overwhelmed by the lengths God went to to announce his Son's birth.)
Christ the Savior is born,
Christ the Savior is born!
Silent night, holy night,
Son of God, love’s pure light;
(What an amazing thing to say about Jesus! He was the pureness of love. Looking on Christ, we see the ultimate example of love.)
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
(These are the two lines that get me every time. I dare you to sing them without getting teary-eyed. "With the dawn of redeeming grace." From the very beginning, it was there. The Cross and my redemption was written all over Christ's face from the very beginning.)
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.
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