Waltzian Heresies

The Day I'm Praying and Working to See

2009-08-26T16:58:00.004-06:00

"One day by God's grace we may have churches full of Christians who can discuss, apply, and live the doctrinal teaching of the Bible as readily as they can discuss the details of their own jobs or hobbies--or the fortunes of their favorite sports team or television program."

~Wayne Grudem, Bible Doctrine, 14

Justification by Death

2009-08-25T10:36:00.005-06:00

"The prevailing notion of justification in Western culture today is justification by death. It's assumed that all one has to do to be received into the everlasting arms of God is to die."

~ R. C. Sproul, The Truth of the Cross, 10

Justin Bearclaw

2008-11-01T21:33:00.002-06:00

Justin so enjoyed the poem I wrote him a couple years ago (he is easily pleased!), I promised him I'd do it again this year, especially since I was out of town this whole week and missed his birthday! We had a little party for him today, at which time I presented him with this new gift. He's been studying American Indians in school, so the setting seemed to fit. Enjoy!

The Indians’ food was running low.
For weeks, no deer or buffalo
Had left a track upon a land
Oppressed by winter’s icy hand.
The chief called all his warriors near,
Each armed with bow, flint knife, and spear.
He greeted them with hardened eyes
And said, “Our people’s hope now lies
With you. Be cunning, swift and strong.
You must not fail. We won’t last long.”

So just before the light of day
A dozen warriors slipped away—
Some through the woods or the long grass
In search of trails where game might pass.
But one young brave, the chief’s son, took
A path along a frozen brook
And through a canyon deep with snow
Until he found a cave below
A cliff. He climbed a nearby oak,
And wrapped tight in his fur-lined cloak.
He waited, silent, on a limb,
Alert to all surrounding him.

The noonday sun had warmed the ground
When down below he heard a sound.
He clutched his knife; he raised his spear,
And crouched as a great bear drew near.
The black bear stopped—a foreign smell…
But just then with a mighty yell
The warrior hurled his spear and leapt
Onto the creature’s back. He kept
Free of its slashing claws and teeth
And plunged his knife in just beneath
Its arm and deep into its chest.
The tribe was saved! They ate the best
Meal that night that they’d had in weeks
With songs and smiles and bulging cheeks.

Now in that land of Indian lore
They sing about a chief who wore
A necklace made from black bear paw—
The chief they call Justin Bearclaw!

The Demand and the Promise of Marriage

2007-11-29T11:07:00.000-07:00

A Gospel-Centered Wedding Address

NOTE: Last weekend I performed the wedding of two of my favorite 20-somethings, two kids who were in 9th grade when I first became a student ministries pastor. What follows is the charge I brought to them that day.

As many of you know, my wife, Aundrea, and I have known Nick and Meghan for 10 full years. Knowing them has meant growing to love them and enjoy them, and today we are humbly honored and delighted to serve them.

As I considered what to say to them on their wedding day, my mind ran back over a decade of memories—ministry trips, special moments, new developments, long talks, big decisions… 10 years worth of growing up, physically and spiritually. I remember well from 10 years ago the slender young lady with the striking voice and mischievous smile and the dark-complected young man who orbited the youth group like a planet, silent and mysterious. Watching them both grow—better said, watching God grow them—has been a privilege and a delight, and I say again that for me, to know them has been to love them and enjoy them. Now, the rest of what I’m going to say is for them, and you can listen in…

Nick and Meghan, as I pondered what to say to you both today, my thoughts took me back to the very first wedding at the very beginning of time, recorded for us in Genesis 2:

Genesis 2:18 - 25 Then the LORD God said, "It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him." So the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and while he slept took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the LORD God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man. Then the man said, "This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man." Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his
wife, and they shall become one flesh.
These instructive words about marriage—this phenomenon of becoming one flesh—imply both a demand and a promise.

The demand of becoming one flesh is the demand of love itself, namely, complete and unconditional surrender. Love requires that we freely and gladly give up everything. Unless you are willing to surrender everything—all that you have and are and hope to be, you’re not really in love.

Before marriage, affection convinces two people that they are the most romantic couple who ever lived, that they are perfect for each other, that no two people have ever loved as they love, that they will never face a problem too great or a sacrifice too demanding for them to overcome. And then marriage comes along asks them to prove it.

Marriage asks us to prove that what we have together is something more than mere emotion, mere friendship… Marriage asks us to prove that we are truly, truly in love! How? By the complete surrender that is required for two independent people to become one indivisible unit—one flesh.

Why is it that a wedding involves sealing our love with an oath? Nick and Meghan, aren’t you both completely captivated by each other right now and eager to spend you whole lives together? So why should you bother with all the business of taking a sacred vow “before God and all these witnesses”?

Here’s why… Wedding vows are simply the natural, verbal expression of love, because real love expresses itself in real commitment. Love is less about how we feel and more about what we do. It’s an act of the will before it’s a feeling of the heart. Even though it seems like the emotions of this moment will never change, God knows that our emotions are notoriously fickle and untrustworthy! Therefore, we enter into the marriage relationship by pledging our lifelong commitment. The well-known and traditional “I do” is your affirmation of this sacred oath. It is, in a sense, your white flag of surrender as you yield to the demand of becoming one flesh.

The demand of being “one flesh” is aptly captured in Wesley’s famous line from The Princess Bride: “As you wish.” Nick, being one flesh with Meghan means that from this day forward, your attitudes and actions toward her are one life-long expression saying “As you wish.” Meghan, as you become one flesh with Nick, the banner that hangs over your life must now be “As you wish.”

To put it in biblical terms, we would go to Philippians 2:3-4: Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.

The Scriptures are clear about what this means for both of you. Ephesians 5:33 instructs: Let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband. Nick, becoming one flesh with Meghan demands that you love and care for her in the same way you care for your own body. Meghan, the demand of being one flesh with Nick requires that you respect him. Anything less from either of you will prevent full oneness.

This is the demand of becoming one flesh. But marriage is not all demands and duties. Being one flesh also implies a promise… a great and awesome promise that God makes available to every married couple through His grace.

Becoming one flesh through marriage implies the promise of lifelong blessing from God! Think for a moment of all the blessings that your marriage promises: companionship, friendship, romance, intimacy, security, children, spiritual and personal growth, to name only a few.

Nick, Meghan, do you realize what incredible potential for joy and blessing your future together holds? The metaphor of a wilderness expedition comes to mind… Here you stand, on the brink of a lifelong journey… not a journey into the uncharted territory of some majestic mountain or island paradise—too narrow! Too bland! No, you have embarked on an expedition exploring the single most limitless entity in creation—the soul of another human being, a place of mystery so vast and delights so unimaginable, you have to see it to believe it!

In short, being one flesh is a promise of lavish and undeserved goodness from God! This day is just a foretaste… your wedding day—the day for which you’ve longed and prayed and hoped and dreamed… Is finally here! Just look around you… Isn’t God incredibly good?! And this is just a foretaste, a shadow, these opening notes of the love song of goodness that God means to play through your marriage for the rest of your life!

I think God thought up weddings just so that He could show off His lavish and bountiful goodness! I think God loves weddings. Think about this… the Bible opens with a wedding, in the story we just read of Adam and Eve. That’s quite a statement right there! And then when God’s Son Jesus came to earth, He chose to perform His first miracle at a wedding, when He turned the water into wine. But that’s not all… The Bible also comes to a close with a wedding, as Jesus takes His blood-bought people to Himself and makes them His bride for all of eternity. Weddings form the inspired bookends to all of human history!

Why does God love weddings? Here’s why… because marriage provides a sublime metaphor for the profound good news He wants all people to hear. What good news? This… The paradise of the Garden of Eden, though it was lost by humanity’s fall into sin, has been restored.

At that first wedding God saw something that he said was “not good”—Adam’s aloneness, and so He fixed it by creating Eve and making her one flesh with Adam. But these days the problem is much bigger than Adam being alone. Our whole world is filled with sin and its awful effects.

God looked into this fallen, messed up world and once again said, “It is not good.” Humanity’s sin had destroyed the paradise God intended this world to be, and worse than that, our sin has separated us from our good God, filled us with guilt, and aroused His anger against us. We can see all around and inside us that God is right: “It is not good.”

This time, God’s solution wasn’t to create a woman. It was to send a man into the world, THE Man, His own perfect Son, Jesus. And after 30+ years of living sinlessly, how we were supposed to live, Jesus died painfully, paying the penalty for sin that we were supposed to pay.

God’s verdict of “it is not good” has been reversed in Jesus! Just like He brought Eve to Adam, God brings Jesus to us. And like Adam, we must say, “This is good! This is what we need!” Jesus fixes our ruined world and removes our guilt and brings us back to God so that we can be made one, not with each other this time, but with God Himself!

The demand of oneness was satisfied—Jesus offered Himself in complete surrender. The blessing of oneness is offered freely to us, if we entrust ourselves to Jesus as our only hope of being restored to God.

Nick and Meghan, this wedding will make you one flesh, and being one flesh extends a demand and a blessing. But remember this: both the demand and the blessing of oneness don’t begin here today, at the altar, in your wedding. They began on the cross, with Jesus Christ your Savior. This day is a reminder of that day.

And this day is also a foretaste of the awesome and final wedding day when we will enjoy being brought into perfect fellowship, intimate oneness, with our Savior, Jesus Christ!

Did God Create Evil?

2007-11-01T09:29:00.000-06:00

Another Email Q&A

Got this question in an email earlier this week. Here's my answer:

Well, it’s not a simple yes/no answer. On the one hand, you have the logic of God’s role as Creator and Designer of all things which almost requires us to say that, yes, in some sense, God created/planned the existence of evil in our world. Verses like Isaiah 45:7 put Scriptural foundation underneath that logic: “I form light and create darkness, I make well-being and create calamity, I am the LORD, who does all these things.” Pretty hard to make that go away.

But then you have the truth on the other side that God is not evil, all He does is good, and He couldn’t possibly be the direct cause of something He Himself forbids. You have verses like James 1:13 to support that idea: “Let no one say when he is tempted, ‘I am being tempted by God,’ for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one.”

So my answer is a good, solid “No.” And “Yes.” No, in the sense that He cannot be charged with wrongdoing or held responsible as the direct cause for sinful, evil things in our world. But yes in the sense that all that happens is part of His pre-ordained plan; His plan works in perfect harmony with the personal choices of His free creatures; and ultimately He must be seen as the ultimate reason for all things that have happened, are happening, and ever will happen.

In attempting to say “No, God doesn’t cause evil in any sense whatsoever,” some people suggest that He simply knows what is going to happen and He allows some evil things. I have two questions for these folks.

1) (related to “God knows it”) How is God’s “knowing” that something is going to happen all that different from His “causing” it to happen? To explain what I mean, here’s an example… this morning I had a bowl of grapefruit with my breakfast instead of a banana. God certainly knew I was going to have the grapefruit rather than the banana; and if you think about it, just by KNOWING what I was going to choose, He guaranteed it was going to happen that way. Even though I felt free to choose banana or grapefruit, there was never really any option because the future was already all mapped out in His mind before it ever happened. So the problem isn’t solved by saying “God knew about it, but He didn’t cause it,” because the mere fact that He knew it was coming guaranteed that it would come. Of course, some people object, “Yeah, He knew it, but He didn’t cause it. He just allowed it.” Next question…

2) (related to “God allows it”) If the all-powerful God knows something bad is going to happen and He allows it anyway instead of stopping it, isn’t He guilty of at least negligence, like a police officer who stands passively by while a civilian gets mugged? In other words, saying “He allows it” doesn’t really get Him off the hook in any truly meaningful way. For anyone who disagrees, I would suggest they talk with a skeptic of Christianity and see if the skeptic is really satisfied by an all-powerful God who COULD step in and stop evil but chooses not to. That God sounds like a cold-hearted jerk who acts like it’s not his problem. It’s obviously not a truly helpful answer.

This is still true even when it comes to the “free will” answer that says, “God preserves our free will; that’s why He doesn’t prevent evil things that we choose to do.” That answer doesn’t help, because not all evil is caused by human free will – e.g., the 2004 tsunami, Hurricane Katrina, etc. Some really bad things happen without any people involved whatsoever, and so we still have to answer the question, “What did God have to do with this?” Saying “He just allowed it; He didn’t cause it” makes me wonder what kind of God He must be, if He could have stopped it and simply chose not to.

My brother-in-law's cancer is a very personal and very real example here. If God simply “allowed” it when He could have stopped or prevented it all along, I have to ask why He doesn’t love my neice and nephew enough to prevent the horrible pain of losing their daddy. But if in some sense He actually brought it about deliberately as part of His great but mysterious plan to bless and increase their sense of His love in the long run, that’s a God I think I’ve seen reflected in my own experience as a child – suffering short-term pain and loss from my father in order to experience greater joy and blessing in the long run.

If all this seems very troubling and confusing, take heart, because your question deals with probably the largest and most perplexing issue that has faced Christianity for its entire existence—the classic “problem of evil.” We are hardly the first ones to ask the question, and we won’t be the last. And men and women far brighter than we are have struggled and argued and written books by the score trying to answer it.

The ultimate answer is, I think, that He is God and we are not, and we just plain can’t figure out everything about Him or the universe He has created.

Who's Number One in Heaven?

2007-10-22T11:06:00.000-06:00

An Email Exchange with a Friend

I've obviously moved blogging down on my list of priorities. I'm a husband, dad, pastor, and friend before I'm a blogger, so what I'm going to have to do is relegate blogging to those leftover corners of my life and write only as the occasion presents itself.

That said, I received an email this morning from one of the high school students at our church following up on a conversation he and I had after my sermon yesterday. He asked:

Stated bluntly, will there be any one person that will be rewarded as the "best" Christian or the like in heaven? I've heard people support or allude to this concept in many places, and it seems to be at least slightly supported by 1 Cor 9:24, which is still confusing me. I don't know if you've ever heard people talk about the whole idea of "everyone's cup running over in heaven, but some people having bigger cups" or something of that sort, but I'd appreciate any insight into it you can give me.
Thanks for discussing this with me!

I answered:
Sure, I'm happy to discuss these things with you. And please understand that I'm a learner along with you. Where the Scriptures are perfectly clear, we can both have certainty. Where they are less clear, we have room to come to our own understanding. I think this issue of rewards or "the best" in heaven is probably one of those latter areas, although we do have some data here and there in the Bible to guide our thinking.

Our labors for Christ are definitely recognized in heaven. Rewards are promised. But ultimately, I understand all of the rewards to be centered on God's glory rather than ours. In other words, the rewards must come to us in such a way that they highlight His grace rather than our own strength or self-sacrifice or spiritual success or whatever.

Notice, for example, that Paul never says "thank you" to anyone directly. He always says "I thank God for you..." or something similar (cf. Rom 1:8, 1 Cor 1:14, 1 Cor 14:18, Phil 1:3, Col 1:3, 1 Thes 2:13, 1 Tim 1:12, 2 Tim 1:3, Philemon 1:4). That’s a subtle difference but a telling one, I think. It's a way of offering praise that doesn't terminate on the person but goes all the way up to God. Why does he do that? I assume it's because Paul recognizes that 1) all praise belongs to God and 2) all the qualities that he is thankful for in these people ultimately come from God. In other words, this is an example of a verbal reward that ultimately brings praise to God rather than to people. They do get thanked, but in a way that emphasizes God's greatness and not their own.

But the question lingers... is there anything about heaven's rewards that actually enhances our own life or reputation? Is there anything meaningful and personal in it for me? I would say "yes" but I would still frame the reward up in a way that ultimately centers on God Himself. Here's how I look at it...

The ultimate good of heaven is God Himself. He's what makes it paradise. If we lost all the streets of gold, the pearly gates, the tree of life, the reunions with loved ones, etc., heaven would still be heaven as long as HE was there. But if He left, all of those other great features would not matter. In other words, being with Him is what makes eternity so awesome for a Christian. In this sense, HE is the ultimate reward.

But how then does one Christian get a better reward than any other Christian? If we all get to be with God, what's the sense in striving to be "the best," as you put it? I would suggest that though we all will be with God forever, some of us will experience Him more deeply and more fully than others will. It's not that He Himself is any different from one person to the next; it's just that each person's CAPACITY to enjoy and experience Him is different.

Analogies exist in this life right now. For example, if you and I were to attend a computer show together, we could see the same presentations, try out the same new software and hardware, hear the same previews of new technology, etc. I like technology, and I have a decent grasp of what it can do. But because you are so much more versed in computers than I am, your appreciation of the whole show would be much greater than mine. You would have a much greater understanding of the programming skill it took to come up with some of this stuff. You would be able to grasp ramifications and uses for new technology much more quickly than I. Overall, the computer show itself hasn't changed at all, but your experience of it would be so much greater than mine because you are much more knowledgeable and skillful in that area than I am.

It applies to just about all areas of life. You might picture it like little storage boxes in our heart and mind with little labels on them: "Computers," "Music," "Sports," etc. The more experience and knowledge you have in each area, the bigger your storage box gets. Ultimately, when you have a new experience in some category, the bigger your box is, the more of that experience you can take in and enjoy. Objectively, it’s the same experience for everybody, but subjectively each person's appreciation of it differs based on the size of their internal box.

Same with heaven... those who have given their whole life to serving and knowing Christ will get to heaven and enjoy God SO much more deeply than others, not because God is different from person to person but because the way they lived their life has given them a much bigger "God box" than other people have and so they can take in much more of Him than others can. This understanding of rewards fits together three things: 1) each person gets rewarded based upon how he/she lived, 2) the reward is still very satisfying to us personally, and 3) the reward brings glory to God since He Himself is the ultimate object of our satisfaction.

That's how I see it anyway. What do you think?

Waiting... [updated]

2007-10-11T15:36:00.000-06:00

RE: Ordinary People Making Extraordinary Claims

I have a flurry of new posts I'll probably put up on the blog tonight... posts I wrote earlier this week but I've been saving in the hope that I'll get a few more comments on my question from Friday.
[UPDATE: This has been done, but they are all postdated to the day I originally wrote them. Check 'em out below. 11:29 PM MST]

Special thanks to everybody who has commented thus far. It's been helpful for me to think through your answers as I try to formulate my own. I'm not sure I'm there yet, but I'm going to posit my answer tomorrow.

So... what would YOU say if a skeptic of Christianity asked you: "If your Christ has not succeeded in making you better men and women, have we any reason to suppose that he would do more for us, if we became Christians?"

Bedtime Stories and the Bible

2007-10-10T14:48:00.000-06:00

Why Christianity Requires Storytelling

One night when I was putting my boys to bed in their little one-room barracks (4 boys + 2 sets of bunk beds + 1 dresser = huge mess), I heard the inevitable plea: “Dad, would you tell us a story, PLEASE?” It had pretty much become part of our bedtime routine: lights out, prayer, kisses, story. Usually, it took me a minute or two to work one up because they didn’t want just any old story. They wanted a “Grandma and Grandpa Story”—a story about my life as a kid, complete with appearances by my brother and sisters, our various pets, the places we grew up, and on and on. It had to be true, and it had to be new.

Apparently I had fallen into a boring and predictable opening for my G&G stories, but only one of my boys noticed it: our four-year-old jokester, Braidin. But he didn’t just come right out and tell me I was getting dull. Instead, on this particular night when someone asked, “Dad, would you please tell us a story?”, his quick little wit went into action. Before I could launch into my latest and greatest tale, he butted in and, lowering his voice like mine, he began with my predictable line: “Well, one time…”

He stopped right there, but the other boys were already giggling and wiggling under their blankets. Of course, I laughed, too, appreciating both his keen observation and his comical style. He was funny, and in his own little way, he was making a good point: “boring” and “story” shouldn’t go together.

Everybody loves a good story. Postmodernism, with its schmaltzy enthusiasm for “narratives” over against propositions, hasn’t stumbled upon anything new or profound here. People have always been this way. No matter where or when they live(d), people of all ages love stories. Yesterday I picked up three new books at the library—all fiction. Why? Because I, too, love a good story.

I’m pondering storytelling for a couple reasons. First, I’m having a very hard time preaching these days. We are studying through the book of Acts at our church, and I’m finding it very tough to write good sermons on the great stories in this book. I think a major part of the problem is my badly conceived notion that a sound, expositional sermon has to frame up the text in a number of distinct propositions that make a nice outline. “Point one: Jesus sees the lame man. Point two: Jesus speaks to the lame man. Point three: Jesus heals the lame man. Conclusion: A poem about lameness.” How lame. (This isn't a real outline of mine, but the point is I need some help badly!)

I bought four books today about how to preach narratives. Hopefully, help is on the way! I need to get this figured out, because well over half of God’s word has been revealed in narrative form. Theological storytelling is what it is really, and I believe it calls for a type of preaching that honors the form in which it was originally given. God could have revealed all our theology in abstractions like an encyclopedia of systematic theology, but He didn’t. I think good preaching will honor that, not only in how the passage is interpreted but also in how it is presented. That’s my theory anyway; I just need help working it out practically.

The other reason I’m interested in storytelling right now is that I’m seeing more and more how the whole Bible is one big story. One conflict: sin ruined God’s good creation. One plot: God redeems a people for Himself. One Hero: Jesus Christ. One resolution: the cross.

In other words, the Bible isn’t a collection of nice little tales about heroic feats and noble characters. It’s not like Aesop’s Fables—a bunch of random stories each with a helpful little moral at the end. No, the Bible tells one unified Story—the Story of redemption. Sometimes the Bible’s main Story develops in a straight line, as new details are revealed and the plot slowly moves forward. And sometimes the Bible’s main Story moves in a circle, retelling the same plot with foreshadowing or typology.

Many narratives in the Bible actually do both: they move the main Story’s plot forward (in a line) and rehearse its basic features (in a circle) at the same time. For example, the story of David defeating Goliath does both: it shows us a little bit more of what Jesus will be like in the person of David (moving the Story along a line), and it also retells the main Story where God’s people are delivered from their enemy by a single Champion (moving the Story around a circle). It adds to the Story and retells the Story at the same time.

If this is all just a bunch of mumbo-jumbo to you, I’ll try to clear it up by offering this excellent analogy from professor Bruce Waltke:

The Rainbow Bridge spanning Niagara Falls began as a kite. Those building the bridge flew a kite across the majestic waterway, until it came down on the other side of the gorge, linking the two sides with a thin string. Using the string, its builders pulled strings, then ropes, and eventually steel girders across the gorge. The more the bridge changed, the more it became what it was always meant to be.

The kite string represents, you might say, Genesis’ description of salvation, while the rest of Scripture represents the developing bridge—first strings, then ropes, then steel girders.

So, I hope you’ll learn to approach the Bible as one great story, THE great story, the Classic of all classics. And if you tend to shy away from fiction as somehow less spiritual than theology, let me encourage you to reconsider. Read good stories. Tell great stories.

I believe we love stories because we were hard-wired by God that way. He put a love for stories within us because He Himself is the Great Storyteller, the Master Author who wrote the ultimate Story, the Creator who designed us in such a way that we cannot help but be captivated and changed by the greatest Story ever told.

Dessert Discipleship

2007-10-09T20:52:00.000-06:00

How Ice Cream and Good Questions Help My Parenting

I love being a dad. My kids are one of the clearest ways God has shown His lavish kindness and blessing to me. Now please understand, Aundrea and I have five children—four boys and a girl—so you can be sure that having kids doesn’t always make us feel lavishly loved and blessed by God! Sometimes it’s pretty rough going, but we know by faith (cf. Ps 127:3) and by experience that children are a gift and parenting is a privilege.

About once a week I take one of my sons out for ice cream after supper. We usually head over to Carl’s Jr. or McDonalds, where we get a booth and just hang out for 45 minutes or so. It gives me a chance to affirm my love for them verbally and nonverbally, to praise them for areas of growth Aundrea and I have seen in their life, to talk with them about concerns we have about their character and behavior, to ask them about their relationship with us and with the Lord, to counsel them about significant issues in a young boy’s life (like choosing friends, honoring girls, respecting adults, working hard in school, etc.), and just to make sure we’re still connected as father and son. I think it’s an important habit even with our three-year-old, because even though my discussions with him don’t get much deeper than how cool it is that hot fudge sundaes can be both hot and cold at the same time, we are forming the habit of talking one-on-one on a regular basis; and I think that is going to be a really crucial foundation for us when he’s older and we really do have some important things to discuss.

I want to make these little chats as meaningful as they can be for my boys, so I’m always looking for tips and ideas. Last weekend at the DG Conference, John Piper mentioned a list of questions for drawing out your kids and shepherding their heart. The list was originally developed by Rick Gamache, a friend of Piper’s who also pastors in the Minneapolis area. Here’s the list, for those interested:

• How are your devotions?
• What is God teaching you?
• In your own words, what is the gospel?
• Is there a specific sin you’re aware of that you need my help defeating?
• Are you more aware of my encouragement or my criticism?
• What’s daddy most passionate about?
• Do I act the same at church as I do when I’m at home?
• Are you aware of my love for you?
• Is there any way I’ve sinned against you that I’ve not repented of?
• Do you have any observations for me?
• How am I doing as a dad?
• How have Sunday’s sermons impacted you?
• Does my relationship with mom make you excited to be married?

(HT: Justin Taylor)

Monday Quotables

2007-10-08T22:45:00.000-06:00

From Mark Dever's The Gospel & Personal Evangelism

"I think many times we don't evangelize because we undertake everything in our own power. We attempt to leave God out of it. We forget that it is his will and pleasure for his gospel to be known. He wants sinners saved." (p 24)

"We share the gospel because we love people. And we don't share the gospel because we don't love people. Instead, we wrongly fear them. ...We protect our pride at the cost of their souls." (p 27)

"When we don't sufficiently consider what God has done for us in Christ—the high cost of it, what it means, and what Christ’s significance is—we lose the heart to evangelize.” (p 28)

“The good news is that the one and only God, who is holy, made us in his image to know him. But we sinned and cut ourselves off from him. In his great love, God became a man in Jesus, lived a perfect life, and died on the cross, thus fulfilling the law himself and taking on himself the punishment for the sins of all those who would ever turn and trust in him. He rose again from the dead, showing that God accepted Christ’s sacrifice and that God’s wrath against us had been exhausted. He now calls us to repent of our sins and to trust in Christ alone for our forgiveness. If we repent of our sins and trust in Christ, we are born again into a new life, an eternal life with God.
“Now that’s good news.” (p 43)

“The love that the New Testament community of believers shared is presented as an integral part of their witness to the world, as we see in John 13:34-35. …In fact, the outworking of faith through the community of a local church seems to be Jesus’ most basic evangelism plan.” (p 50)

“It’s not manipulative or insensitive to bring up the urgent nature of salvation. It’s simply the truth. The time of opportunity will end.” (p 58)

“Clarity with the claims of Christ certainly will include the translation of the gospel into words that our hearer understands, but it doesn’t necessarily mean translating it into words that our hearer will like.” (p 64)

“It is important to remember that the message you are sharing is not merely an opinion but a fact. That’s why sharing the gospel can’t be called an imposition, any more than a pilot can impose his belief on all his passengers that the runway is here and not there.” (p 70)

“An account of a changed life is a wonderful and inspiring thing, but it’s the gospel of Jesus Christ that explains what it’s all about and how it happened. And it's the gospel that turns sharing a testimony into evangelism.” (p 73)

“We don’t fail in our evangelism if we faithfully tell the gospel to someone who is not converted; we fail only when we don’t faithfully tell the gospel at all.” (pp 81-82)

“As we so experience the gospel, we find ourselves loving others more, and we want to share this good news with them.” (p 100)

“Ultimately, our motive in evangelism must be a desire to see God glorified.” (p 101)

“As one Puritan said, ‘Outside of Christ, God is terrible.’” (p 103)

“You and I aren’t called to use our extensive powers to convict and change the sinner while God stands back as a gentleman, quietly waiting for the spiritual corpse, his declared spiritual enemy, to invite God into his heart. Rather, we should resolve to preach the gospel like gentlemen, persuading while knowing we can’t regenerate anyone, and then stand back while God uses all his extensive powers to convict and change the sinner.” (p 109)

“When the message of the cross captures your heart, then your tongue—stammering, halting, insulting, awkward, sarcastic, and imperfect as it may be—won’t be far behind. As Jesus said, ‘Out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks’ (Matt. 12:34).” (p 112)

In an appendix to pastors at the end: “Certainly, we pastors sacrifice personal opportunities to do evangelism when we work full-time in ministry. We are, in a sense, willing to be pulled behind the front lines in order to equip others. We realize the front lines of the contest, the ‘skin’ of the church, if you will, is represented by the members of the local congregation after they leave church on Sunday. It is then, throughout the week, that the church presses in on the kingdom of darkness as believers live out their callings around hundreds or even thousands of non-Christians each week. It is our task as pastors to lead all believers in accepting, embracing, and using the opportunities that God richly gives them. In all of this, we should work not so much merely to implement programs as to create a culture in our church. We want our congregations to be marked by a culture of evangelism. In order to do that, we are going to have to watch how many nights we encourage our members to be doing some program at church. We must give our members time to develop friendships with non-Christians.” (p 118)

Ordinary People Making Extraordinary Claims

2007-10-05T15:57:00.000-06:00

What Is a Real Christian?

A while back I was troubled to read a certain exchange between a Christian missionary and a Hindu. The Hindu complained: "You Christians seem to us Hindus rather ordinary people making extraordinary claims."

When the missionary replied that the extraordinary claims are made about Christ, not about us, the Hindu replied: "If your Christ has not succeeded in making you better men and women, have we any reason to suppose that he would do more for us, if we became Christians?"

Hmmm...

My original plan with this post was to launch off into a discussion of the essence of real Christianity. Is it just about being made "better men and women"? Is that the heart of our faith, the irreducible minimum of what it means to be a follower of Jesus of Nazareth?

But instead of pontificating away and pretending like I've got it all figured out and you need to learn from me, I think I'm going to leave the question unanswered. It will be far more thought provoking for all of us that way.

I'm going to take some more time and just ponder. I'd love it if you'd think along with me, reflect a little bit about your own life, and consider some ways this Hindu's comment is about you. And I'd really love it if you'd leave a response in the comments section about how you would answer this criticism that Christians are just ordinary people making extraordinary claims.

Come on, be brave! Leave your first comment EVER on a blog right here, right now, today!

Being Relevant

2007-10-04T17:42:00.000-06:00

Why “New” Just Doesn’t Cut It

“I have always loved this particular hymn [‘Fairest Lord Jesus’], and though written in 1677, its message is still relevant today.”

I balked when I read those words in the booklet of a recently released hymns CD. What is it about our Christian culture that equates “new” with “relevant”? Just listen to the voices in the Christian market. We are obsessed with everything novel, fresh, different, innovative, and original. The ads, the local church promotions, the programs… Last week I heard a Christian radio DJ gush: “Coming up next, a sizzling set of hot new releases so fresh, they will rock your world for Jesus.” *yawn*

The conference Aundrea and I attended last weekend reminded me once again that relevant isn’t always new. Helen Roseveare is 82. Jerry Bridges is 77. John MacArthur is 68. John Piper is 61. In my assessment, the relevance of each speaker’s talk increased in proportion to their age. Perhaps we should suspect that the newer a thing is, the more risk it has of being irrelevant.

Reminds me of a book by Os Guinness I read a couple years ago: Prophetic Untimeliness: A Challenge to the Idol of Relevance. Just three pages into the Introduction, he writes:

After two hundred years of earnest dedication to reinventing the faith and the church and to being more relevant in the world, we are confronted by an embarrassing fact: Never have Christians pursued relevance more strenuously; never have Christians been more irrelevant.

Ouch! Tough words. But if newness isn’t the answer, what is?

Guinness isn’t just a stone-throwing critic. He’s also a man who deeply loves the church and wants to offer remedies, too. He answers the question of how to find relevance with one word: faithfulness.

By our uncritical pursuit of relevance we have actually courted irrelevance; by our breathless chase after relevance without a matching commitment to faithfulness, we have become not only unfaithful but irrelevant; by our determined efforts to redefine ourselves in ways that are more compelling to the modern world than are faithful to Christ, we have lost not only our identity but our authority and our relevance. Our crying need is to be faithful as well as relevant.

In context, he is talking specifically about faithfulness to the gospel message. In other words, redefining and recasting the gospel in new and “relevant” ways is not the key. Relevance is not found by emphasizing those elements of the gospel that resonate with the culture and then excluding the rest—for example, making Jesus out to be the missing ingredient to a life of peace, joy, and prosperity and neglecting to mention that He demands repentance and He promises suffering.

It’s hopeless for us to try to sound relevant by singing a little harmony to the world’s same old melody. But that’s exactly what we do when we try to make Jesus the answer to a godless person’s same old idolatrous pursuits. When we reduce the gospel to “Want happiness? Try Jesus,” we’ve basically paraphrased every single product ad on the market. We’ve just swapped Jesus in for cosmetic surgery or a new condo.

How about if we offer them new goals entirely? A whole new paradigm to live from? A paradigm where they live for God rather than self, motivated by His grace rather than by their emptiness or guilt, and pursuing His awesome goals rather than their trivial ones.

Only the real, whole, unedited, unadulterated, unmodified, old school message of the gospel offers people something that relevant.

The gospel is relevant because it tunes people in to a Person bigger than themselves, and everybody longs to get themselves around true greatness. The gospel says, “It’s not all about you. It’s about God.”

It’s relevant because it turns people on to a cause bigger than their own happiness, namely, the unstoppable advance of God’s eternal kingdom on this earth; and everybody longs to live for something truly meaningful. The gospel says, “Forget your pitiful attempts at empire building, and come live for a cause that even hell can’t stop and even eternity won’t erase.”

It’s relevant because it confirms that haunting sense that we are not what we should be—it tells us we are sinful rebels against our Creator King. The gospel says, “Those whispers you hear inside are correct; you are guilty.”

It’s relevant because it assures us that our Creator King freely offers amnesty to all His rebellious subjects who will turn from their sin and flee to Him for mercy. The gospel says, “Full forgiveness, a clean conscience, and peace with your King can be yours… for free.”

And it’s relevant because it explains how the laws of the universe have not been violated by this stunning offer of forgiveness, but instead God’s justice was satisfied in the death of His Son so that His mercy can flow to His blood-bought children. The gospel says, “God’s wrath against you was fully spent, not withheld, but on His Son instead of upon you.”

Is it new? Nope. Been around for several thousand years. It’s just the old, old story that (as Mark Driscoll puts it) people suck, but God saves us from ourselves. And you can’t get much more relevant than that!

The Power of an Indestructible Life

2007-10-03T13:02:00.000-06:00

A Meditation on Hebrews 7:16

This verse has captivated me for a long time. The paragraphs around it aren't easy reading, but they aren't total misers with their spiritual treasure either. They will yield and yield richly, if you read and think and pray long enough.

The subject in view is the priesthood, those men who mediated between God and His people. Granted, it's not exactly a common topic in our culture, but the point is still very relevant: namely, if we have any sense of God's transcendence, we innately sense the need for help when we have to deal with Him. Mysterious things can be attractive and intriguing, but when they possess awesome power and present potential danger, they can be very frightening. It's very nice to know we have a representative, an advocate, a defense lawyer, if you will.

And when it comes to priests, Jesus is the best of the best.

Here's the writer's argument in a nutshell: He points out that Jesus is from the tribe of Judah, which is an aberration on the Old Testament pattern: Levi was the tribe of the priests, not Judah (7:13-14). But that's OK, because Jesus is from a different order of priests. He doesn't follow Levi; he follows a guy called Melchizedek (7:11-12, 15-16). The writer of Hebrews finds it very significant that Melchizedek has no recorded birth or death—he just appears out of nowhere like an immortal (7:3). (More on that in a moment.)

I just love the wording of verse 16, where the writer brings his point home:

Jesus has become a priest, not on the basis of a legal requirement concerning bodily descent [like the Levitical priesthood], but by the power of an indestructible life.

Like Melchizedek, our Priest had no beginning or end, but the writer uses this great language to convey that image: "the power of an indestructible life"!

In other words, when it comes to priests, Jesus is the best of the best. What an awesome Christ!

Hebrews 7 conjures up in my mind some sort of tryouts or a kind of "Priestly Application Station." I have this picture in my mind of some sort of check-in area with a booth, a sign-in register, a guy behind the counter, and stuff like that. All these men are coming in and signing up to be priests: "Yeah, I'm here to sign up..." "Descendant of Levi?" "Yep." "Sign in below and take a number, please."

Then Jesus walks up: "I'm here."
"Family of Levi?"
"Judah."
"I'm sorry, sir. Priests must be from the family of Levi."
"Oh, I'm not here for that line of priests. I'm here to sign up with the immortal, eternal ones. The ones like Melchizedek. Some Roman soldiers slaughtered me three days ago, but I'm back."
"Uhhh... How's that again?"
"I can't die. They tried to kill me, but my life is indestructible."
Long pause. "Thank you, sir."
Turning to the rest of the room: "You all can return home. The priesthood isn't accepting any more applications. We have the One we need, thank you."

Miscellany

2007-10-02T13:28:00.001-06:00

Unrelated Thoughts of Debatable Coherence

I thought about shutting down the blog today, but my wife talked me out of it. One of the effects of last weekend's conference was to cause me to examine how I am using my time. I judge blogging to be of low relative value; she judges it to be high. She wins. I blog on.

Speaking of blogging and last weekend's conference, I'm intending to do a "Monday Quotables" of lines that caught my attention - verbal incendiary bombs, if you will. Stay tuned.

Still speaking of the conference, it was very encouraging to see former classmates from college (and even two from high school) there. It caused me to reflect on what a work of grace God has done among my friends. It's amazing and wonderful to me that so many of my classmates are still walking with the Lord and serving Him faithfully.

We're heading up into the mountains again later this week. A couple friends are visiting, and we're going to show 'em a good time, Colorado style!

Speaking of little ventures into The Wild, I posted some new pictures of our last trip in the post from a few weeks ago. Check 'em out! ...and then get yourself some plane tickets out here for your own visit!

Still speaking of our last visit to the mountains, here's another picture. Although I refuse to turn this blog into a family photo album (not that I have anything against blogs like that - this just isn't that kind of blog!), I can't help but post this one of me and my precious little girl. We were hiking along a trail at an elevation of 12,000', and it was pretty cold and windy so I tucked her inside my coat and zipped her in. Must have been pretty comfy in there, because she fell right asleep and dozed all the way up and back! Special thanks to the friendly photographer we met along the way who snapped this picture (and the ones I added to that other post below).

The sky is incredibly clear here today. Because our church building is perched atop a sizeable hill, I can see the mountains all the way from the Fort Collins area in the north nearly to Pueblo in the south - around 175 miles. It's stunning. Did I already say something about plane tickets and a visit?

My son got his stitches out yesterday. We're working hard to keep his forehead from scarring (no scratching, daily applications of Vitamin E oil, etc.), but it occurred to me today that he might grow up looking a bit like Harry Potter. That's cool with me, as long as the resemblance ends right there.

Earlier today I sent my wife a text saying, "Callify me when you canify." Weird, I know, but at the time of the text I was working over a memory from my college days. Student Activities Director Rich Akins pointed out to me that you can turn any noun into a verb - and sound rather intellectual in the process - by adding "-ify" or "-ize" to it.

"Honey, would you please bagify my lunch?"
"This room is dark. We'd better chandelierize it."
"Someday I'd like to bookify all these great thoughts of mine."

Stand: A Call for the Endurance of the Saints

2007-09-28T08:46:00.000-06:00

My Plans for the Weekend

Aundrea and I are headed to Minneapolis for the Desiring God National Conference this weekend, and are we ever looking forward to it! Want to know why? Here are a few reasons for starters:

1. The theme. Endurance isn't applauded much these days. The method of choice for 21st century Americans to improve their lives is to change something: upgrade, trade in, relocate, divorce, enhance. Who ever lists endurance as a personal value? As John Piper writes in his conference invitation: "A long, hard, steady, hold-the-course obedience is a rare and wonderful thing."

2. The speakers. John MacArthur, who has persevered at a single church for almost four decades; Jerry Bridges, who has suffered the illness and death of his first wife; Randy Alcorn, who has endured significant cultural oppression for his pro-life activism; Helen Roseveare, who has served in missions ministry and recruitment for over 50 years; and John Piper, who has endured a thing or two in his own 60+ years and still seems to speak to whatever subject with heated, Christ-centered passion.

3. The corporate worship. Desiring God's lead musicians and worshipers always help us see and savor the supremacy of Jesus Christ.

4. The opportunity to enjoy some spiritual meals together as a pastoral team. Pastors need to be pastored, too, and Bret and I are anticipating some rich nourishment this weekend!

5. Continuing something of a tradition. Aundrea and I have attended this conference three of the five years it has been held. I know many pastors who have never attended a conference with their wife even once. I pity those men.

6. Three whole days with my wife and without kids. Enough said!

Pray for us! We'll tell you how it went when we get back.

What I Do vs. What I Believe, Part 2

2007-09-27T15:42:00.000-06:00

The Alluring Alternatives to Everyday Faith

In last Friday’s post I asserted that we all show exactly what we believe by how we live. It’s a mistake, in other words, to try to change what we do to match up with what we believe. What we do already matches what we believe. Our actions never contradict our real beliefs; they simply manifest them.

Suggest whatever example or hypothetical scenario you’d like. Let’s say a pro-life couple decides to get an abortion for financial reasons. Are they really and truly pro-life? Hardly. Their actions prove what they believe: that they value financial security more than their baby’s life.

Or the guy who sings to God, “Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down, here I am to say that you’re my God, you’re altogether lovely, altogether worthy, altogether wonderful to me” and then never cracks his Bible or prays for the rest of the week. Does that dude really believe God is completely lovely and worthy and wonderful? Not if he doesn’t even have the desire to seek God outside of a church building.

So far, so good. We live what we believe.

But here’s what has me really puzzled. Why do my actions so often show that I don't really believe what I say I believe? What are the greatest hindrances to believing, and thus living, what I say I believe? There are probably lots of answers, but I’ve been especially convicted about three.

NOTE: Even though I’m writing this to you, I’ve left these musings in the first person because this post is a sort of journal entry for me. Hopefully, you might catch a glimpse of yourself here, too, as you peer over my shoulder while I look into the mirror of God’s word a bit…

1. I live by feelings more than by faith. More often than I care to admit, I am "feelingful" instead of faithful. Some of these "feelings" are genuine emotions; others are just plain old desires. For example, if I don't feel like (read: "want to") reading my Bible, I'm easily tempted not to. The point is, it’s easier to live by what I feel rather than what I say I believe. Or, to put it another way, I tend to believe my feelings more than I believe God. The problem lies in what I believe.

2. I also tend to live for the present more than the future. Sure, I am aware that God says sin is bad for me, but that seems so doubtful when I'm caught up in the dailyness of life. After all, sin doesn’t usually bring immediate consequences. That means I can sin and seem to get away with it—no retribution from God, no apparent consequences in my life… all is well. Or so it appears…

Why? Because when I say “all is well,” what I really mean is “all is well right this moment, at least as far as I can tell.” But what I fail to realize is that all is NOT well in the bigger picture. For example, my sinful coveting is setting me up for financial disaster, or my sinful anger is fracturing my relationships, or my sinful laziness is beginning to get noticed by my employer, or my sinful lust for approval is weakening my ability to stand for the truth. Disaster is right around the corner; but since I can’t see it, I don’t really believe it. The present seems so much more real to me than the future. Or, to put it another way, I tend to believe my experience of the present more than I believe God’s prediction of the future. Once again, the problem lies in what I believe.

3. Finally, I live by my assessment of myself more than the Bible's assessment of me. In other words, I tend to rationalize away verses that correct me, rather than see them as indictments of me personally. I’m quite an expert at this game of making excuses for myself and slowly squeeeeezing out from under the pressure of conviction.

I apply some verses to other people: "Give money? That's for people who actually have some extra." Or I excuse myself on the basis of a good heart: "Disciple my kids? Well, I really want to do that. Is that good enough?" Or I postpone my obedience: "Witness? I will, when unsaved people begin dropping into my life." Or I present God with conditions: "Ask for my wife's forgiveness? OK, I will, right after she asks me for mine."

In other words, I often fail to live out what I say I believe because I excuse my behavior as “not the real me.” Or, to put it another way, I tend to believe my own excuses for my sinful actions more than I believe God’s indictment of my sinful actions. Yet once more, the problem lies in what I believe.

If you’re still reading, I’m impressed. I’m also indebted to offer you a solution. What should we do if any of these false beliefs have captured our own soul?

Three suggestions:
1) Get in the word. To paraphrase Romans 10:17, “True belief arises in our heart through hearing the word of God.”
2) Pray for faith. Be like the man who asked Jesus for a miracle, and when Jesus asked if he believed, he pleaded: “I believe! But help my unbelief!” (Mk 9:24)
3) Connect to others. As Hebrews 3:13 recommends: “You must warn each other every day, while it is still ‘today,’ so that none of you will be deceived by sin and hardened against God.” It’s much easier to be deceived along the way when you’re walking it alone.

Do you really believe that what you believe is really real? If not, what are you believing instead? And more importantly, how do you plan to change it?

Temporal Suffering vs. Eternal Joy

2007-09-26T15:10:00.000-06:00

Viewing the Pain of Earth Through the Eyes of Heaven

I had a different post planned for today, but this afternoon I read through tears the news of a young couple who lost their full-term daughter the day before she was due to be born. I only met this young father once at a conference a few years ago, but I have prayed for him earnestly because I know very well the expectant hopes and joys of fatherhood. And since yesterday’s mishap with my own son, I’ve been especially aware of the fragility of our lives and the importance of grounding our joy in something other than prosperous circumstances.

One of the very first subjects I addressed as a new pastor was suffering, not because I want to ruin people’s joy but precisely because I want to strengthen it. Life shreds thin joy, and if yours isn’t rooted in something stronger than your circumstances, it will be very thin indeed.

Because I do not have much time to give to writing today, from this point I am simply going to reproduce part of my sermon manuscript from the last of three messages I preached on the book of Job. These are the kind of thoughts that help me when my imagination runs away with scenarios about what could happen to my children or my wife in this wretched, fallen world. I hope they are thoughts that will help strengthen your hope in God in the face of your own (future?) suffering as well. What follows is from that sermon.

As we come to the end of the book, we find that Job is a broken and changed man (42: 1-6). He affirms God’s freedom and sovereignty, and he repents of his reckless and reactionary words. He forgives his three friends and prays for their forgiveness by God (vv 7-9). And then we find an amazing and complete reversal of Job’s fortunes (vv 10-13). Here we learn the sixth theme of the book of Job:

Someday God will right every wrong and repay every hurt.

Should we conclude that this restoration here is normative and means that all of our sickness will give way to healing, all of our loss will be regained, all our hurt will be soothed in this life? Not quite. Job’s restoration in his lifetime is, I think, an accommodation to the era in which Job lived, before the Scriptures were given in their full form. Job’s restoration is God’s way of vindicating him and demonstrating what we know from the revelation of the rest of the Scriptures, which Job and his friends did not have.

The rest of the Scriptures reveal that God is just, He will right every wrong and repay every hurt and make every trial worthwhile.

How? Well, we’re not quite sure, but what we do know is that He is the God who imagined and carried out the details of the gospel. And in the gospel we see that our God wounds, but He also heals and will someday welcome us to His everlasting joy.

Rom 8:16-18 ¹⁶ The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, ¹⁷ and if children, then heirs--heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. ¹⁸ For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.

Oh, how glorious is the good news of the gospel for those in suffering! The final answer to the book of Job and the ultimate consolation for all of the Jobs who have suffered like him is that our Lord Himself embraced and absorbed all the undeserved consequences of sin and evil in this wretched world!

If you are not a believer in Jesus Christ, let me urge you to please repent and trust Him today! And for those who are in Christ, rejoice that eternity will make sure that not a single moment of patient suffering is wasted or lost. Psalm 56:8 indicates that God keeps every one of our tears in a bottle and records our sufferings in a book. And someday, the first nanosecond after we cross over the river to heaven’s shore, in that single instant the suffering will be over. But not only over—also worth it, for the eternal weight of glory that will be revealed to us!!

2 Cor 4:16-18 ¹⁶ So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. ¹⁷ For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, ¹⁸ as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

Did you hear those last two verses? “Our LIGHT and MOMENTARY troubles are achieving for us an ETERNAL GLORY that FAR OUTWEIGHS them all…”

Behold the mercy of our King,
Who takes from death its bitter sting,
And by his blood, and often ours,
Brings triumph out of hostile pow’rs,
And paints, with crimson, earth and soul
Until the bloody work is whole.
What we have lost God will restore—
That, and Himself, forevermore,
When He is finished with His art:
The quiet worship of our heart.
When God creates a humble hush,
And makes Leviathan his brush,
It won’t be long before the rod
Becomes the tender kiss of God.
~ John Piper, The Misery of Job and the Mercy of God

Boys and Heights and Trips to the ER

2007-09-25T14:55:00.000-06:00

Giving Thanks for God's Kind Providence

Until this month, we hadn't been to the emergency room much at all, especially considering we have four boys age eight and under. But on Labor Day our 3-year-old got bumped off the porch by his three brothers and landed right on his arm. After lots of tears and howls, a trip to the hospital, and a few x-rays, we learned that we had our first broken bone. But a few days ago he abandoned his little sling, and all was well.

Until today, that is, when our 5-year-old tried to climb a tree with the aid of a bungee cord. He hooked it on a branch above his head, grabbed on tight, and started to pull himself up. (Go ahead and cringe now, because you know what's coming next.) Just as he started to lift himself off the ground, WHAM! That deadly metal hook slipped off the branch and nailed him right between the eyes.

It was pretty gory there for a while: a trail of blood through the house, a jagged hole in his head, blood in his eyes and running down his nose… Once again my truck became an emergency vehicle, carrying one of my precious little treasures toward rescue. Ironically, he had just been at his doctor’s that morning for a scheduled visit, so they were all ready with his chart and insurance info.

I’m amazed at how tough these little boys of mine are. Our youngest didn’t take another drop of pain medication for his broken arm after leaving the hospital, and this little guy today took four shots of anesthetic directly in his torn forehead. Phew! Six stitches and a vanilla shake later, and we were on our way home again, not too much the worse for wear.

But what amazes me more than anything is the goodness of God that watched over both my boys during their mishaps. All the way to the doctor’s today, I couldn’t help but imagine what would have happened if that metal hook had hit him an inch or two to either side. As he himself said at the doctor’s office: “Yeah, then I would have needed to get a wooden eye!”

I will say to the LORD, "My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust."
Psalm 91:2

Monday Quotables

2007-09-24T23:00:00.000-06:00

From R.C. Sproul’s The Holiness of God

“We tend to have mixed feelings about the holy. There is a sense in which we are at the same time attracted to it and repulsed by it.” (p 42)

“God is the ultimate object of our xenophobia. He is the ultimate stranger. He is the ultimate foreigner. He is holy, and we are not.” (p 45)

“It is one thing of fall victim to the flood or to fall prey to cancer; it is another thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” (p 53)

“Holiness provokes hatred. The greater the holiness, the greater the human hostility toward it. It seems insane. No man was ever more loving than Jesus Christ. Yet even His love made people angry.” (p 68)

Commenting on the death of Uzzah when he steadied the Ark of the Covenant with his hand: “An act of heroism? No! It was an act of arrogance, a sin of presumption. Uzzah assumed that his hand was less polluted than the earth. But it wasn’t the ground or the mud that would desecrate the ark; it was the touch of man.” (p 108)

“The Old Testament list of capital crimes represents a massive reduction of the original list. It is an astonishing measure of grace. The Old Testament record is chiefly a record of the grace of God. How so? …In creation all sin is deemed worthy of death. Every sin is a capital crime.” (p 114)

“God put Adam and Eve on probation and said, 'If you sin, you will die.' Sin brings the loss of the gift of life. The right to life is forfeited by sin. Once people sin, they forfeit any claim on God to human existence.” (p 114)

“Sin is cosmic treason. Sin is treason against a perfectly pure Sovereign. It is an act of supreme ingratitude toward the One to whom we owe everything, to the One who has given us life itself.” (p 116)

“We become false witnesses to God. When we sin as the image bearers of God, we are saying to the whole creation, to all of nature under our dominion, to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field: 'This is how God is. This is how your Creator behaves. Look in this mirror; look at us, and you will see the character of the Almighty.'” (p 116)

“…the most mysterious aspect of the mystery of sin is not that the sinner deserves to die, but rather that the sinner in the average situation continues to exist.” (p 117)

“[God] is indeed long-suffering, patient, and slow to anger. In fact He is so slow to anger that when His anger does erupt, we are shocked and offended by it. …Instead of taking advantage of this patience by coming humbly to Him for forgiveness, we use this grace as an opportunity to become more bold in our sin.” (p 117)

“The most violent expression of God’s wrath and justice is seen in the cross. If ever a person had room to complain of injustice, it was Jesus. He was the only innocent man ever to be punished by God. If we stagger at the wrath of God, let us stagger at the Cross.” (p 121)

“As soon as we talk about deserving something, we are no longer talking about grace; we are talking about justice. Only justice can be deserved. God is never obligated to be merciful. Mercy and grace must be voluntary or they are no longer mercy and grace.” (p 127)

“God is not obligated to treat all people equally.” (p 128)

“Access to the Father is ours. But we still must tremble before our God. He is still holy. Our trembling is the tremor of awe and veneration, not the trembling of the coward or the pagan. ...We are to fear God not with a servile fear like that of a prisoner before his tormentor but as children who do not wish to displease their beloved Father.” (pp 153-4)

What I Do vs. What I Believe, Part 1

2007-09-21T17:58:00.000-06:00

A Distinction Without A Difference

"Do you really believe that what you believe is really real?"

So ended the first session of The Truth Project, a DVD-based worldview study from Focus on the Family which we are beginning at our church. Dr. Del Tackett, who incidentally is one of the most effective and inspiring teachers I've ever heard, concludes his first lecture with this haunting question; and I've been pondering it ever since.

It reminded me of a thought that first came my way about 15 years ago, in a course taught by one of my favorite college profs, Dave Hershberger. He opined, "We don't need to live what we believe. We already do. We can tell exactly what we really believe by how we live."

At first I thought he was loony; but after about 5 minutes of raising and answering objections in my own mind, I concluded he was absolutely right. …and brilliant.

About 10 years later I read John Piper's Future Grace, with its central thesis that sin gets its power from the pleasures it (falsely) promises us and so the way to fight for holiness is to believe the promises of superior satisfaction from God. That book literally changed my life. (Someday I would like to write about the five books that have changed me the most and why. Interested? Stay tuned. Maybe I will.)

Suddenly, I saw that the key to fighting sin was not the gargantuan effort required to deny myself pleasure and "Just say no" to sin. Sure, the Bible exhorts us to say no, but a more biblically complete approach requires us to say "yes" to the promises of a far surpassing joy and fulfillment that God offers in His word. So once again, I was pointed back to the ultimate question: "What do I really believe? My feelings? The siren song of sinful desire? The culture? Or God's word?"

For example, Dr. Tackett suggested that if he himself really believed all that the Bible says about the fatherly nature of God and the power of prayer, he wouldn't have a problem NOT praying. The difficulty would be getting himself to stop praying!

I think he’s right. Do you? I think his question is one that’s well worth asking.

Do you really believe that what you believe is really real? …about God? …heaven and hell? …the Bible? …the final judgment? …the gospel?

Prove it. Live it.

(coming next week: why we tend not to live what we say we believe)

Living in Colorado

2007-09-20T23:32:00.000-06:00

...Means We Occasionally Hit the MOUNTAINS!

I'm bummed that I missed posting for a day or two, but we've been visiting family in Granby, which is up in the mountains not too far from Rocky Mountain National Park. We came up to go hiking, enjoy the sights, and watch the elk bugle. The elk watching was pretty amazing. We were often within 20-30 feet of whole herds - usually a bull and his harem, along with several calves.

The kids loved it! Along the way we also saw several moose, deer, and a red fox.

It's been a wonderful couple of days. Hiking, four-wheeling, relaxing, and being amazed at the handiwork of our God:

O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory above the heavens.
From the lips of children and infants
you have ordained praise
because of your enemies,
to silence the foe and the avenger.
When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?
You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.
You made him ruler over the works of your hands;
you put everything under his feet:
all flocks and herds, and the beasts of the field,
the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea,
all that swim the paths of the seas.
O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
Psalm 8

I, Harlot

2007-09-18T13:19:00.000-06:00

Another Look at How a Christian Reads the Psalms (and the rest of the Bible)

My friend Jeff asked a really good question about this post from last week. Specifically, he gently challenged the notion that OT saints didn’t (or couldn't) have the same level of awareness of their sinfulness as we do. I had written:

…these men and women didn’t have Romans 7 or Ephesians 2 to help them understand how truly awful they are without Jesus. Thus, we should not expect them to have the same level of intimacy with the wretchedness in their own heart as we have, viewing it through the lens of these later Scriptures.

In response, Jeff asked, “Even without the New Testament, shouldn’t these people have had a good grasp of their own sin anyway just from what they could read in their own Scriptures?”

It’s a great question especially when we remember that, when Paul wants to prove that the whole world is desperately sinful in the early chapters of Romans, what does he do? He quotes the Old Testament extensively! Romans 3:10-18 is a collection of OT quotations all demonstrating his point that Jews and Gentiles are alike under sin. He writes (with OT references added in parenthesis):

¹⁰ as it is written: "None is righteous, no, not one;
¹¹ no one understands; no one seeks for God.
¹² All have turned aside;
together they have become worthless;
no one does good, not even one.” (Psalm 14:1-3)
¹³ “Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive.” (Psalm 5:9)
“The venom of asps is under their lips." (Psalm 140:3)
¹⁴ "Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness." (Psalm 10:7)
¹⁵ "Their feet are swift to shed blood;
¹⁶ in their paths are ruin and misery,
¹⁷ and the way of peace they have not known." (Isaiah 59:7-8)
¹⁸ "There is no fear of God before their eyes." (Psalm 36:1)

So obviously, these readers of the OT had plenty of material to show them their sinfulness. Paul sure thought so anyway! But I still contend that they failed to see the depths of their depravity clearly, even with passages like these right before their eyes. Why? Because the average believer—both Old Testament era and New Testament era alike—would read these passages and assume that these words do not apply to them.

Why not? Context. If you’re an especially diligent sort, go back and read the OT passages I referenced above, and notice who these descriptions are applied to in their original context. If you don’t have the time or the inclination to go read them all yourself, I’ll give you one example.

The very last line Paul quotes is from Psalm 36:1, which says: “Transgression speaks to the wicked deep in his heart; there is no fear of God before his eyes.” Who has no fear of God before his eyes? "The wicked.” And this example from Psalm 36 is representative of the context for every one of these OT quotations: a description of “the wicked” or “evil men” or the writer’s “enemies” or those in outright rebellion against God.

Interesting then, isn’t it, that Paul takes these passages and applies them to everybody, not just those we would traditionally consider “the wicked”? In Romans 3, Paul is writing to moralists and lechers alike. He’s got the whole world in his sights, and he’s spraying inspired buckshot from the Old Testament all over everybody! In other words, Paul calls ALL OF US the wicked, evil men, and the enemies of God.

There’s another very important lesson for us here in how to read, not just the Psalms, but the entire Bible. In every passage we read, we need to see ourselves as the wicked, blind, broken, and helpless. We are the lame man in need of healing. We are the bloody mess by the side of the road in need of a Good Samaritan. We are the harlot, the tax collector, the Pharisee, the complaining Israelites, the wicked kings of Israel. In the story of the crucifixion, I am Judas, I am Pilate, I am the religious leaders, and I am the angry mob. In Genesis, I am Cain when he murders and Abraham when he lies and Jacob when he deceives.

It is the gospel itself that tells us to read the Bible this way. Paul shows us this by how he applies these passages from the Old Testament. In essence, he is saying, “There is no fear of God in the eyes of the wicked, and that means YOU!” The gospel reminds me that I am a sinner in need of a Savior. It commends to me one attitude and one alone: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Only when I begin there can I even hope to emulate, by God’s grace, the Good Samaritan or the great King Josiah or the faith-filled harlot Rahab.

This matters to me right now because I am studying for a sermon on the story of Ananias and Sapphira, the deceivers in Acts 5 whom God struck dead for their hypocrisy. I am convinced that the first way to read this passage is to see myself as the hypocrite, and the first way to preach it is to help my church family see themselves that way, too. And then, enter the gospel of God’s grace, where not all hypocrites and liars are stuck dead (a la, Peter, who stood there with these dead people at his feet, knowing that only months earlier he himself had lied three times about being a follower of Jesus Christ! Incredible.). Breathtaking justice forms the perfect backdrop for breathtaking mercy.

All this reminds me of Caedmon Call’s great song “Mystery of Mercy”:

I am the woman at the well, I am the harlot
I am the scattered seed that fell along the path
I am the son that ran away
And I am the bitter son that stayed

I am the angry man who came to stone the lover
I am the woman there ashamed before the crowd
I am the leper that gave thanks
But I am the nine that never came

My God, my God why hast Thou accepted me
When all my love was vinegar to a thirsty King?
My God, my God why hast Thou accepted me
It's a mystery of mercy and a song, the song I sing
(lyrics by Andrew Peterson and Randall Goodgame, from the album Back Home)

Monday Quotables

2007-09-17T22:46:00.000-06:00

From John Stott's Between Two Worlds

“Seldom if ever do I leave the pulpit without a sense of partial failure, a mood of penitence, a cry to God for forgiveness, and a resolve to look to him for grace to do better in the future.” (p 9)

“Preaching is indispensable to Christianity. Without preaching a necessary part of its authenticity is lost. For Christianity is, in its very essence, a religion of the Word of God.” (p 15)

“Our worship is poor because our knowledge of God is poor, and our knowledge of God is poor because our preaching is poor. But when the Word of God is expounded is its fullness, and the congregation begin to glimpse the glory of the living God, they bow down in solemn awe and joyful wonder before his throne. It is preaching which accomplishes this, the proclamation of the Word of God in the power of the Spirit of God. That is why preaching is unique and irreplaceable.” (p 83)

“The kind of God we believe in determines the kind of sermons we preach.” (p 93)

“We should never presume to occupy a pulpit unless we believe in this God. How dare we speak, if God has not spoken? By ourselves we have nothing to say.” (p 96)

“More often than we like to admit, the pew is a reflection of the pulpit. Seldom if ever can the pew rise higher than the pulpit.” (p 115)

“Preachers are not to invent [the message]; it has been entrusted to them…. It is impressive that in all these New Testament metaphors [for preaching] the preacher is a servant under someone else’s authority, and the communicator of somebody else’s word.” (pp 136-7)

“Jesus Christ, we believe, is the fulfillment of every truly human aspiration. To find him is to find ourselves. Therefore, above all else, we must preach Christ.” (p 151)

“When we proclaim the gospel, we must go on to unfold its ethical implications, and when we teach Christian behavior, we must lay its gospel foundations.” (p 157)

“The best preachers are always diligent pastors, who know the people of their district and congregation, and understand the human scene in all its pain and pleasure, glory and tragedy. And the quickest way to gain such an understanding is to shut our mouth (a hard task for compulsive preachers) and open our eyes and ears.” (p 192)

“Humble listening is indispensible to relevant preaching.” (p 192)

“Supposing that a pastor has this support, what else could keep him from study? Let me be frank. Only one thing: laziness.” (p 208)

“So we need, as I find myself, constantly to repent, and to renew our resolve to discipline our lives and our schedule. Only a constantly fresh vision of Christ and of his commission can rescue us from idleness, and keep our priorities correctly adjusted.” (p 209)

“To search for [the text’s] contemporary message without first wrestling with its original meaning is to attempt a forbidden shortcut.” (p 221)

Commenting on why it is necessary to write out every word of the sermon: “Not because we shall read our sermons, nor because we shall memorize and recite them, but rather because the discipline of clear thinking requires writing…” (p 231)

“Hypocrisy always repels, but integrity or authenticity always attracts.” (p 271)

“A congregation learns the seriousness of the gospel by the seriousness with which their pastors expound it.” (pp 278-9)

“The main objective of preaching is to expound Scripture so faithfully and relevantly that Jesus Christ is perceived in all his adequacy to meet human need.” (p 325)

“The most privileged and moving experience a preacher can ever have is when, in the middle of the sermon, a strange hush descends upon the congregation. The sleepers have woken up, the coughers have stopped coughing, and the fidgeters are sitting still. No eyes or minds are wandering. Everybody is attending, though not to the preacher. For the preacher is forgotten, and the people are face to face with the living God, listening to his still, small voice.” (p 326)

“Why, then, does the power of the Spirit seem to accompany our preaching so seldom? I strongly suspect that the main reason is our pride.” (p 330)

“Self-forgetfulness is an unattainable goal, except as the by-product of preoccupation with Another’s presence, and with his message, his power and his glory.” (p 340)

If Sports Builds Character…

2007-09-14T21:48:00.000-06:00

Where'd All These Villains Come From?

I loved sports. Past tense. There was a day when I was pretty well married to basketball, and football and baseball weren’t far behind. But these days, I can take ‘em or leave ‘em.

It started when I realized how much more prone I was to sin when competing—anger, pride, bitterness, selfishness, disrespect to authority, the whole depraved nine yards.

But what really has me aggravated lately is the recent deluge of immoral and contemptible behavior among professional athletes, coaches, and officials: the NFL’s infamous thug list, the doping scandals in baseball and the Tour de France, Nick Saban’s lies, NBA official Tim Donaghy’s gambling, and now Bill Belichick’s cheating. Nice. Quite frankly, I’m disgusted.

As a result, you can imagine my delight when I ran across this article entitled “Obviously, Sports Do Not Build Character,” by Anthony Bradley, assistant professor of apologetics and theology at Covenant Seminary. He begins:

If you are one of those people who believe the old adage “sports builds character,” you have some explaining to do.
Why are so many professional athletes, who have spent their entire lives in organized sports, masters at cheating, serial adultery, drunkenness, compulsive gambling, drug abuse, and thuggish fighting (to name just a few of the vices)? The truth is that sports no more builds character than attending Clemson University football games qualifies you to replace Tommy Bowden as head coach.

In spite of my irritation, however, I’m reluctant to give up on sports altogether. True, sports do not build character, but they provide a very helpful context in which character can be built… under the right circumstances. What circumstances? Well, I think Bradley gets it right near the end of his critique:

Sports do not build character in young people but virtuous adults do. In one sense youth sport is simply a medium for adult mentoring within the context of challenging situations. Character is bestowed – or not – from one generation to another.

Reminds me of a post I read a while back by CJ Mahaney. CJ loves sports, but he values biblical masculinity and godly character far more. In this post, he lists specific behaviors he commends to his son, Chad—practices which make sports a means to the end of developing godliness. Here’s CJ’s perspective:

There is nothing original or profound about this list. But helping my son apply it to his heart and life can make a profound difference. So after each game, I review the above list with my son. I go over the game with him and celebrate any and all expressions of humility and godly character. I tell him that this is more important to me than how many points he scored or whether his team won the game (although we do play to win!). Remember, fathers, what you honor and celebrate, your son will emulate. Therefore, we must celebrate godly character more than athletic ability or achievement.

If you’re a parent or a coach or even just a Christian sports fan, I’d encourage you please to read CJ’s entire piece. It’s absolutely excellent.

I want to conclude by offering my sincere thanks to the many Christian parents and coaches and fans out there who approach sports this way. Keep up the good work! If only there were a couple thousand more of you, perhaps we might have something to cheer about.

Own or Rent?

2007-09-13T13:30:00.000-06:00

A Perspective on Possessions

I’m studying for a sermon on Acts 4:32-37, a passage describing the profound unity and mutual care in the Jerusalem church. On the table in this text is that dreaded subject, money:

Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common. Acts 4:32

I need to give most of my time today to study and sermon writing, so this post is intentionally quite short. It’s just a helpful little analogy I found earlier this week as I was reading a book by Ralph Doudera, a highly regarded Christian investor. He writes:

My mentor, Evangelist Tommy Tyson, at one time considered joining a commune where everyone owned their property in common. God prompted him to take his wallet out of his pocket and count the money inside, asking him where he got the funds. Acknowledging that it was a gift from Him, he felt God say to him, “If you will accept everything as a gift from Me, and you are willing to use it as I guide you, then I don’t mind if you carry it in your own pocket.”
This concept has been helpful to me regarding the material things that I own. For example, if I had a rental car that was stolen, I probably wouldn’t get very upset, just report it to the authorities and get another one. But if “MY” car was stolen…? If only I could have this mindset for all my possessions. (Wealth Conundrum)

Confessions of a Bible Critic

2007-09-12T13:19:00.000-06:00

How a Christian Reads the Psalms

Sometimes the Bible irritates me. There, I said it. And now, before you call me a blasphemer, keep reading and let me explain…

The Bible doesn’t always say what I expect it to say. More to the point, it doesn’t always say what I want it to say. (I hope that’s true in your life, too. If it’s not, you’ve either died and gone to heaven and been glorified, or you aren’t reading closely enough.)

Like this morning… I was finishing up Psalm 119, and that writer just kept on saying things that I could never say—things that made me really uncomfortable because of what I believe about our depravity and sinfulness and need for grace. I wanted to pull him aside and offer a little friendly counsel on how he could improve his inspired Bible writing, especially on verses like these:

Look on my affliction and deliver me, for I do not forget your law. (v 153)
Many are my persecutors and my adversaries, but I do not swerve from your testimonies. (v 157)
Consider how I love your precepts! Give me life according to your steadfast love. (v 159)
My soul keeps your testimonies; I love them exceedingly. (v 167)

It sounds like this guy really thinks he’s got it going. “I do not forget your law. I love your precepts. I’m all that...” And when I started thinking about it a little more, I remembered that this isn’t the only Psalm that talks that way. Psalm 15 can make me feel like I never should attend a worship gathering again. Psalm 26 reads like a flavor of Christianity I’ve never tasted. And so on…

So what do we do with Psalms like that? Ignore them? Explain them away, like we're some dusty, liberal theology professor? “This particular selection from the psalter furnishes us with an undisputable example of hyperbole as the author writes of things he himself knows not literally but rather exaggerates the claims of his religious experience…” Spare me. If that’s what is happening here, how can we tell when the author means it and when he doesn’t? Is God really a rock and a fortress who can protect us from all our troubles, or is that just exaggerated language, too?

No, I think there’s a better way to understand the Psalms when they talk like that.

First, it’s helpful to remember that the Psalms were written during an age when God’s arrangement with His people emphasized due punishment and/or reward. He had given laws; their responsibility was to keep them. (Of course, it’s both true and very important to recognize that grace was very much at work in this period as well. I’m just suggesting that the emphasis was somewhere else.) Thus, it’s only natural that a follower of God would want to point out his efforts and successes at abiding by the arrangement.

Second, it’s helpful to adjust our expectations about the self-awareness of these OT writers. As one of my seminary profs pointed out to me a few years ago, these men and women didn’t have Romans 7 or Ephesians 2 to help them understand how truly awful they are without Jesus. Thus, we should not expect them to have the same level of intimacy with the wretchedness in their own heart as we have, viewing it through the lens of these later Scriptures.

Finally, it’s critical to remember that the Psalms are part of what the New Testament writers sometimes call “the Law.” That doesn’t mean it no longer applies to us. It just means that when we feel convicted by it like I was this morning, we need to remember how the Law is supposed to function in our life, namely, to convict us and lead us to Christ.

To say it a different way, all of these Psalms that sound so far out of reach for us actually are… and are not. They ARE out of reach in ourselves, but they ARE NOT out of reach if we are in Christ. In other words, Jesus did live like this. He could actually say these things and mean it. He could take verses like this on His own lips and talk to God like that! I love how Dietrich Bonhoffer puts it:

The psalms that will not cross our lips as prayers, those that make us falter and offend us, make us suspect that here someone else is praying, not we—that the one who is here affirming his innocence, who is calling for God’s judgment, who has come to such infinite depths of suffering, is none other than Jesus Christ himself. It is he who is praying here, and not only here, but in the whole Psalter. (Life Together)

This is what Bonhoffer calls “the secret of the Psalter,” and I think it’s probably the single most important thing I’ve ever learned about how to read the Psalms. These are Jesus’ prayers before they are mine, and I must pray them and read them through Him. In other words, the right way to read the Psalms is with a heart of repentance and faith—repentance for not being like this and faith that, thankfully, He is.

Remembering

2007-09-11T16:35:00.000-06:00

9/11 and the Christian Life

At today’s 9/11 memorial service at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Washington, DC, the Reverend Luis Leon suggested that each of these anniversaries presents us with a dilemma: how to remember that event appropriately while still pressing on with our lives. In my experience, it’s not been an easy balance to find.

The ability to press on with our lives, it seems to me, is a characteristically American strength. Historically, we have had a knack for bouncing back from disaster stronger than before.

But I wonder these days if we’re quite as good at remembering. We used to work hard at it: “Remember the Alamo!” during the Texas Revolution. “Remember the Maine!” in the Spanish-American War. “Remember Pearl Harbor!” for World War II. But “Remember 9/11”? Not so much.

I’ll admit, I’m really tired of the conflict in Iraq. I wish we weren’t there. I hate war. I hate killing. I hate hatred. Please understand that I’m thankful to be an American, and I’m very proud of most of our troops. I just wish they could come home. I guess I need to remind myself why they’re there.

Forgetting is easier. It’s painless, effortless, and all too natural. Unfortunately, it’s also bad for us. We grow only when we remember. We learn only when we recall. We bear up only when we bear in mind.

It’s that way in the Christian life, too. In a certain sense, remembering is the key to everything. I’m not talking about some sort of vast, comprehensive, infallible remembering that helps us get every single one of our little Christian duties done. No, the remembering we need to do is much more simple.

Paul told Timothy: “Remember Jesus Christ.” (2 Tim 2:8) Can’t get more basic than that.

Similarly, Jesus said, “This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." And later: "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me." (1 Cor 11:24-25)

I think that’s Christianity in a nutshell right there: remembering Jesus. How He lived. How He loved. How He died. How He rose. How He reigns. How He’s coming back.

One more thing… It’s interesting to me to ponder what God chooses to remember… and not to remember.

I, I am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins. Is 43:25 (cf. Jer 31:34)

How can He “not remember” our sins? Because unlike us, He always “remembers” Jesus.

Because the sinless Savior died
My sinful soul is counted free
For God the Just is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me
To look on Him and pardon me
("Before the Throne of God Above" by Charitie L. Bancroft)

Monday Quotables

2007-09-10T22:22:00.000-06:00

From Craig Blomberg's Neither Poverty Nor Riches: A Biblical Theology of Possessions

"...we must take care not to assume that wealth necessarily, or even frequently, represents God's blessing." (p 36)

"So, without necessarily calling into question the wisdom of modern distinctions between legal and illegal aliens for legislative purposes, it would seem unconscionable that any Christian should ever support efforts to withhold basic human services from the neediest in any land, regardless of their country of origin." (p 48)

"Both sexual immorality and material selfishness stem from the same self-indulgent attitudes." (p 78)

"The key to evaluating any individual church or nation in terms of its use of material possessions (personally, collectively or institutionally) is how well it takes care of the poor and the powerless in its midst, that is, its cultural equivalents to the fatherless, widow, and alien." (p 84)

"As in Proverbs 30:8-9, Jesus is concerned to moderate extremes. But the main focus of his ministry, the road to the cross, and his call to his disciples to imitate him in similar self-denying sacrifice rather than basking in glory, suggests the overarching paradigm of generous giving rather than 'godly materialism,' for the one who would faithfully follow Christ." (pp 145-146)

"So, too, professing Christians today who have surplus income (i.e., a considerable majority of believers in the Western world), who are aware of the desperate human needs locally and globally, ...and who give none of their income, either through church or other Christan organizations, to help the materially destitute of the world, ought to ask themselves whether any claims of faith they might make could stand up before God's bar of judgment." (p 155)

"The church does not pay its ministers; rather, it provides them with resources so that they are able to serve freely." (p 187, quoting Don Carson)

"Christian giving is a gift from the grace from God, which he enables Christians to exercise." (p 191)

Final conclusions:
"1. Material possessions are a good gift from God meant for his people to enjoy.
2. Material possessions are simultaneously one of the primary means of turning human hearts away from God.
3. A necessary sign of a life in the process of being redeemed is that of transformation in the area of stewardship.
4. There are certain extremes of wealth and poverty which are in and of themselves intolerable.
5. Above all, the Bible's teaching about material possessions is inextricably linked with more 'spiritual' matters." (pp 243-246)

Final applications:
"1. If wealth is an inherent good, Christians should try to gain it.
2. If wealth is seductive, giving away some of our surplus is a good strategy for resisting the temptation to overvalue it.
3. If stewardship is a sign of a redeemed life, then Christians will, by their new natures, want to give.
4. If certain extremes of wealth and poverty are inherently intolerable, those of us with excess income (i.e., most readers of this book!) will work hard to help at least a few of the desperately needy in our world.
5. If holistic salvation represents the ultimate good God wants all to receive, then our charitable giving should be directed to individuals, churches or organizations who minister holistically, caring for people's bodies as well as their souls, addressing their physical as well as their spiritual circumstances." (p 247)

"'Give me neither poverty nor riches,' prayed the writer of the proverb; but, since most of us already have riches, we need to be praying more often, 'and help me to be generous and wise in giving more of those riches away." (p 253)

Milestone Meditations

2007-09-07T16:37:00.000-06:00

Reflections on My Last Ten Years

This Monday is a significant anniversary of sorts for Aundrea and me, but since I’m going to do another “Monday Quotables” that day, I figured I’d write about Monday’s milestone today.

On September 10, 1997, Aundrea and I drove a 15-foot U-Haul loaded with everything we owned into the parking lot of the Berean Baptist Church in Livonia, Michigan. Hard to believe it was ten years ago. I know it's cliché, but it really does feel like yesterday.

When I stop and think about it though, I can see amazing changes since then. Our seven-person family was then two. Livonia gave way to Louisville, back to Livonia, and finally to Colorado. We’re replaced both our vehicles, our wardrobes, most of our furniture, and our skin cells several times over (if my high school biology serves me correctly).

It’s interesting for me to think back to those days. Ten years ago I had never…

been a parent,
heard of John Piper,
endured a church split,
led a wedding ceremony,
cared about Michigan football,
shared a meal with a missionary,
been baptized after my conversion(!),
experienced the death of a close friend,
counseled someone considering suicide, or
considered how the gospel affects my daily life.

I still don’t care about Michigan football, but a lot of other things have changed this past decade. But rather than belabor all of the changes, I’d like to suggest some effects that this kind of reflecting has on my soul. Looking back over these ten years makes me really want to…

Seize the day. If these ten years took only a blink to pass by, what does that say about my entire life?! I’d better stay focused on making it count. Looking back makes me more resolved than ever to spend each moment as wisely as possible. TV is out; family time is in. Gaming on my cell phone is out; reading is in. Mindless hobbies are out; dates with my wife are in.

Love my family. The changes of this last decade remind me that I’m not guaranteed anything. How foolish for me to obsess over stupid drivel and argue with my wife or get hacked off at my kids.

Regulate my spending. I wish I had given more money to kingdom work over the last 10 years. But instead, I’ve frittered away $25 here and $40 there, figuring that my little percentage-based giving was good enough. The regrettable result has been that I’ve turned down dozens of requests for help from short-term missionaries, needy folks in my own community, and those ubiquitous World Vision people.

Cherish the gospel. I think the single biggest change in me over the last ten years has been an awakening sense of the importance of living and applying the gospel every day. I’m grateful to God for that change, but it’s one that I feel is only just beginning. Looking back over these years makes me more thankful than ever for the cross of Christ, because I know that every bad thing was (or will be) overcome by the cross and every good thing was purchased for me by the cross:

He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Rom 8:32

In the words of my hero, John Newton:

’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.

From the Inside Out

2007-09-06T13:19:00.000-06:00

The Death of Death

Last Sunday during the Lord’s Supper, I made the simple observation that one of the ways to appreciate the cross more fully is to ponder its effects. Then we pondered together the awesome truth that at the cross, Jesus completely disarmed Satan, both physically and spiritually.

To be more specific, Satan’s greatest physical weapon is death, and his greatest spiritual weapon is unforgiven sin. Death destroys our body, and unforgiven sin can destroy our soul. And Jesus wrenched both right out of Satan’s hands in His death and resurrection. But He didn’t do it quite how we would expect. Here’s how it works…

In Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ, John Piper points out that if Jesus had wanted to remove Satan’s deadly influence from this world, He could have done it with one command: “Go to hell.” But instead, He chose a different route to destroy Satan:

Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil… Heb 2:14

How did He destroy the devil? By submitting Himself to Satan’s most powerful physical weapon—death—and then destroying it from the inside out. The picture that comes to my mind (WARNING: It’s not very sacred, and it’s also kind of gross…) is from the movie Men in Black, when Tommy Lee Jones entices the huge alien bug to eat him, finds his weapon somewhere in there, and then blows the thing to gooey bits from the inside out.

It’s not like Jesus proved He was stronger than death by being immortal—i.e., never dying. Jesus was not like a soldier who moved behind enemy lines without getting caught. Instead, he went right to the enemy general, gave Himself up, got locked away in a POW camp, and then blew holes in the walls of every cell in the whole compound. Now every single soldier who gets taken captive can just walk right out through the holes left by the Man who went there before him.

But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. (1 Cor 15:20)

But wait... there's more. The resurrection also defeated Satan’s most powerful spiritual weapon: sin.

When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: "Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Cor 15:54-57

Ever notice that, in the opinion of most people these days, the only thing you need to do to get to heaven is die?! That’s not what Paul thinks. He believes death has a massive stinger called "sin" which will make death a door to hell instead of heaven… if not for Jesus.

If it weren’t for Jesus, the worst part about dying would be that now we have to start paying for all the sins we committed when we were alive. Once death comes, Satan would sting us with our sin and carry us straight to hell forever. That’s what “the power of sin is the law” means. God’s law says that the penalty for sin is eternal death (Rom 6:23).

But Jesus broke the power of sin by fulfilling the demand of the law: He died for sin. And then He removed the sting of death—sin—by securing our full justification so that no accusation of sin could ever be brought against His people again.

And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him. Col 2:13-15

Isn’t that good news?! The gospel tells us that Satan’s two major weapons are gone: 1) death is not the end; we will rise again; 2) our sin will not be used to condemn us.

No guilt in life, no fear in death—
This is the pow'r of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No pow'r of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home—
Here in the pow'r of Christ I'll stand.
(“In Christ Alone,” by Keith Getty & Stuart Townend)

The Darkness of Doubt and the Light of the Gospel

2007-09-05T18:10:00.000-06:00

Mother Teresa's Crisis of Faith

Mother Teresa of Calcutta died ten years ago today. And since that day, evangelicals (i.e., those who affirm the good news that Jesus died for our sins) have been speculating on what happened to her next. That is not the point of this post (though I will say that I think it is presumptuous and oversimplified to assume “practicing Catholic = does not know Jesus = destined for hell”).

Rather, I am interested in what it means for us that Mother Teresa, the universal icon of Christian service and spirituality, would write:

Lord, my God, who am I that You should forsake me? The Child of your Love — and now become as the most hated one — the one — You have thrown away as unwanted — unloved. I call, I cling, I want — and there is no One to answer — no One on Whom I can cling — no, No One. — Alone ... Where is my Faith — even deep down right in there is nothing, but emptiness & darkness — My God — how painful is this unknown pain — I have no Faith — I dare not utter the words & thoughts that crowd in my heart — & make me suffer untold agony.

According to a newly released collection of her private correspondence, Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light, the depth of spiritual darkness expressed here was not the exception for her. It plagued her for over six decades—virtually from the time she founded the Missionaries of Charity until her death. Time’s associate editor David Van Biema has written an illuminating cover story on the book. He reports that she referred to her spiritual experience as “dryness,” “darkness,” “loneliness,” “torture,” even as a sort of hell. Once she even wrote that it caused her to doubt the existence of God Himself.

Why? Why would such an apparently devout woman struggle so mightily with unfulfilled longing and unshakeable doubt? Biola’s Fred Sanders has offered a compassionate list of ten edifying (to me, at least) speculations, beginning with: “Maybe it’s depressing to be immersed in the lives of the poor of Calcutta, every day for your whole life. Think about the last thing you saw that ‘ruined your day.’ Then think Calcutta.”

But more important for me than the “why” question is the inescapable “so what?” What does Mother Teresa’s spiritual crisis have to do with me?

At the very least, it warns us against an experience-based, emotion-driven approach to the Christian life. Mother Teresa’s testimony reminds us that we must “believe our way” rather than feel our way through the Christian life. Pastor Rick Phillips has posted an excellent analysis of Mother Teresa’s testimony in which he writes:

Why was her faith so dry and dead, as she lamented for over sixty years? One key answer seems to be that her faith was not rooted in the Word of God, but in experiential ecstasy. In this, parallels can be seen between Mother Teresa and Christians of many stripes -- many of them evangelicals -- whose faith is driven by spiritual experiences instead of by the truth of God's Word. How much of the frantic, sterile restlessness of the evangelical culture today is charged by this same drive.

But I see an even larger issue at stake here. Mother Teresa’s struggle forces us to reckon with the veracity of the Christian faith. If Christianity is real—i.e., if there really is a God and He really has sent His Son and His Spirit really does commune with His children—then why would such a devout, self-sacrificing follower of Jesus suffer such an intense silence from God?

As I mentioned briefly already, I do not think it works to dismiss Mother Teresa’s darkness as the unavoidable experience of an unbeliever who simply doesn’t qualify for real fellowship with God. While I am deeply troubled that she was not known to articulate the good news of salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone, I am also forced to reckon with her incredible selflessness, her compassionate love for the needy, and most of all her many statements of intense personal longing for Jesus—all of which the New Testament considers to be fruits of a true work of God’s Spirit. I will certainly concede that all of these “fruits” could be worked up by human effort, but that only backs the question up a step and forces me to ask why I (and most other Christians) do not live with the Spirit’s help anything like she lived without Him!

So the question remains: in light of Mother Teresa’s internal struggle, can our faith really be true? Before suggesting an answer, I want to affirm the normalcy and even the value of times of deep spiritual depression. Countless saints of history have admitted going through seasons of profound darkness: David Brainerd, William Cowper, and Charles Spurgeon are the three that come most quickly to my mind. And though these seasons are painful, they can be extremely valuable because they teach us to “walk by faith and not by sight,” in other words, to trust God’s words rather than our own ideas or emotions. Nothing forces us to rely on our flashlight (cf. Ps 119:105) like pitch darkness.

As for the question of the truthfulness of the Christian faith and the reliability of the Christian gospel, I would suggest that the answer is found right in the gospel itself. The gospel tells us that our salvation has been secured entirely by Jesus Christ—through His sin-free life, debt-paying death, and hell-conquering resurrection. A necessary consequence of this message—and a clear biblical teaching—is that salvation comes to sinners completely by God’s free grace, not by working to earn it but by treasuring and trusting Jesus, who earned it for us.

“Trusting Jesus.” That is the response called for in the gospel, and I would suggest it is the answer to the even bigger issue of whether the gospel itself is even true to begin with. Trust Jesus. Look to Jesus. Consider Jesus.

When we take a closer look at the life of Jesus of Nazareth, we will see that no one lived like this man. No one loved like He did. No one spoke with His wisdom. No one had His power and authority. No one brought together such diverse qualities in perfect proportion as He: strength and tenderness, justice and mercy, submission and sovereignty, meekness and majesty.

The accounts of His life in the four gospels are so compelling, we are forced to listen to His words. And when He speaks, He says things like this: “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mk 10:45) And this: “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” (Lk 22:20)

Apparently, Jesus Himself believed that His own life and death would make it possible for sinners to be ransomed and forgiven. In other words, Jesus believed the gospel was true. And if this most incredible, compelling Man thought it was true, I’m willing to trust Him in that, too.

As with yesterday’s post, I am going to wrap up with the fitting words of Al Mohler:

Our confidence is in Christ, not in ourselves. We are weak; He is strong. We fluctuate; He is constant. We cannot trust our feelings nor our emotional state. We trust in Christ. Those who come to Christ by faith are not kept unto him by our faith, but by his faithfulness.

I possess no ability to read Mother Teresa's heart, but I do sincerely hope that her faith was in Christ, and not in her own faithfulness.

Homosexuality, Christianity, and The Gospel

2007-09-04T17:10:00.000-06:00

What Does the Bible Say?

About the time Brokeback Mountain came out a couple years ago, I realized I had never addressed the subject of homosexuality in the many years that I had been ministering to students. To remedy that a bit and to address the public controversy stirred up by the movie, I put together a short list of several biblical principles that I felt were critical to the issue.

In light of the Larry Craig scandal, I've reproduced my list in this post, along with some Scripture and a little commentary.

1. Any time we talk about sin, we should not think in terms of “them”; we must think “we/us.”

Matthew 7:1-2 Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

Galatians 6:1 Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted.

As I will point out below, the Bible does call homosexual behavior "sin." But the Bible also condemns pride, racism, gossip, hypocrisy, indifference to the poor, lying, heterosexual adultery, materialism, gluttony, laziness, hatred, anger, and a whole host of other attitudes and behaviors. As a result, when Christians speak of homosexuals as "sinners," we are merely putting them in a category with ourselves. It's an indictment we all share.

2. A few fundamental truths have to guide our thinking about this issue and all others:

The Bible, as God's word, is true and trustworthy, and it can predict outcomes and consequences with absolute certainty.
The Bible predicts that when God's created things violate His purpose for them, disorder and destruction result. When they conform to His purpose, order, life and joy result.

The Bible acknowledges that homosexual behavior can bring pleasure. The Bible also acknowledges that a homosexual couple can find happiness together. But since the Bible warns against homosexuality, we must conclude that God is thereby protecting us from some sort of destruction and disorder. In essence, then, the truly Christian response to homosexuality is motivated by a desire for these people to know more joy and order and life, not less.

3. Homosexual behavior is sin. Homosexual desire is sinful and may lead to sin.

1 Corinthians 6:9-10 Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

James 1:14-15 ...but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.

4. It is never biblical or true or necessary to say our desire equals our destiny.

1 Peter 1:14-16 As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: "Be holy, because I am holy."

1 Peter 2:11 Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul.

The simple fact that we crave a thing does not mean it is good or right for us to have it. Because we are sinners, our innate desires cannot always be trusted. In fact, some of our desires can be destructive, especially if we give them full sway.

5. Christians must learn to love sinners who are still struggling with and even blinded by their sin, and our love must take practical, tangible, undeniable forms.

Galatians 5:14 The entire law is summed up in a single command: "Love your neighbor as yourself."

The church has erred grievously by ridiculing, ostracizing, hating, and ignoring the homosexual community. In all our misguided (often self-righteous) zeal for keeping God's law, we have neglected this summary obligation: "Love them like you love you."

6. Our sins and the sins of those we love, no matter how deep and powerful, are no match for the power of the gospel.

1 Corinthians 6:9-11 Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.

What awesome news the gospel is! But here is precisely why our failure to love the homosexual community is so grievous: Christianity is the only source which offers them a power sufficient to wash, purify, and pronounce them righteous before their God.

7. The gospel must be the message we say most often and most loudly, the truth that defines us in our own minds and in the mind of the culture.

1 Corinthians 1:22-24 Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

It's sad to me that Christians are often far more outspoken about abortion and homosexuality than about the gospel. I wish we were known for the message "Christ died for our sins." I wish Christians could be heard saying that as loudly and as often as we are heard parroting our pro-life and pro-family slogans.

I'm reminded of some of Al Mohler's comments on Larry King Live during a discussion about Brokeback Mountain. Mohler continually redirected the conversation to the gospel in ways like this:

You know my main concern, Larry, is not with the gospel of heterosexuality, even though I think that's very important. It's with the gospel of Jesus Christ and what I find lacking in the movie, the screenplay and in the short story is any resolution that really brings these persons to know why they were created and how God really intends them to live and how they would find their greatest satisfaction in living just as God had intended them for his glory.

And this (when asked about whether he believes homosexuality is a choice):

I don't doubt for a minute, Larry that there are millions of people who struggle with attractions to the same sex or other kinds of attractions that they don't even know they ever chose. They may never have and as they know themselves would never have chosen them.

But the big issue for all of us is how we find out what our creation was all about and what we were made for and why this incredibly powerful thing called sex is such a big part of our lives and how we are to bring it into a right alignment.

In other words, there are heterosexuals who struggle with all kinds of desires that are just not right desires and when it comes right down to it I, as a Christian, believe that we are also deeply affected by sin that we don't even know ourselves well enough to know why we desire the things we desire.

What I hope for is that persons, heterosexual and homosexual, will come to know the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, would come to know new life in him, would come to understand that sinners can find the only help that is -- that is worth finding and the only salvation and solution to our problems by coming to faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and then understanding that God, our creator, has the right to define every aspect of our lives including our sexuality.

And this (at the very end of the show):

Well, I think we're watching the breakdown of norms in this society. I don't doubt that. I sense that we have a big task as Christians to articulate what is our most basic concern, and that is, Larry, that on the cross, Christ died for sinners, heterosexual and homosexual, and the only way to be made whole is in him, and that is more important than anything else I could possibly say.

Well said, Dr. Mohler. Well said.

Monday Quotables

2007-09-03T08:25:00.000-06:00

From John Stott's The Cross of Christ

"Before we can see the cross as something done for us (leading us to faith and worship), we have to see it as something done by us (leading us to repentance)." (pp 59-60)

"If we spoke less about God's love and more about his holiness, more about his judgment, we should say much more when we did speak of his love." (p 132, quoting P.T. Forsyth)

"The priority [in the gospel] is neither 'man's demand on God' nor 'God's demand on men,' but supremely 'God's demand on God, God's meeting his own demand.'" (p 152, paraphrasing Forsyth)

"Divine love triumphed over divine wrath by divine self-sacrifice." (p 159)

"The essence of sin is man substituting himself for God, while the essence of salvation is God substituting himself for man." (p 160)

"As we stand before the cross, we begin to gain a clear view both of God and of ourselves, especially in relation to each other." (p 161)

"...whereas usually the one who sins and the one who dies are the same person, on this occasion they were not, since it was we who sinned, but he who died for our sins. This is love, holy love, inflicting the penalty for sin by bearing it. For the Sinless One to be made sin, for the Immortal One to die - we have no means of imagining the terror or the pain involved in such experiences." (p 214)

"No theology is genuinely Christian which does not arise from and focus on the cross." (p 216)

"Powerless wisdom or foolish power: it was (and still is) a fateful choice. The one combination which is not an option is the wisdom of the world plus the power of God." (p 225)

"[The cross] appears to be total defeat. If there is victory, it is the victory of pride, prejudice, jealously, hatred, cowardice, and brutality. Yet the Christian claim is that the reality is the opposite of the appearance. What looks like (and indeed was) the defeat of goodness by evil is also, and more certainly, the defeat of evil by goodness. Overcome there, he was himself overcoming. Crushed by the ruthless power of Rome, he was himself crushing the serpent's head (Gn. 3:15). The victim was the victor, and the cross is still the throne from which he rules the world." (p 228)

Scandal in the Senate

2007-08-31T18:58:00.000-06:00

A Christian Response to the Craig Crisis

In June, Idaho Senator Larry Craig was arrested in the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport and charged with soliciting sex from a plainclothes police officer in a public men’s restroom. Obviously, the story is a bizarre one, and its ramifications haven’t fully unfolded. As of this post, Senator Craig is protesting his innocence, though he has resigned his committee posts in the Senate and may even resign his seat entirely.

What makes the story especially thorny is that he signed a plea agreement in August admitting his guilt, though for only one of the two charges against him. Adding to the scandal, Senator Craig is a third-term Republican who has been a strong supporter of family values and has consistently voted against legislation favoring same-sex relationships.

Though I don’t often blog on politics, I think this sad situation offers the opportunity for a thoughtful response from the Christian community… a uniquely Christian response. By “uniquely Christian,” I mean a response that is more than just politically expedient or commensurate with traditional family values. I’m after a response that only believers in the gospel could give.

What does the gospel say about this sort of scandal? Does the message that “Jesus died for our sins” demand that we think or do anything in particular?

First, we should pray. The gospel tells us that sin matters most, not because it costs us political support or personal success, but because it offends the God who created us and will someday judge us. So we should pray that this event will bring about some spiritual good in Senator Craig’s life. When God arranges events such that we get caught in our sins, it is His mercy to us (even though it feels more like judgment). Sin corrupts, and left unchecked, it can destroy. But when our sin is exposed, its advance is halted and the impending disaster is avoided… IF we awaken to the danger, turn, and seek help to change. So we should pray that God’s mercy at work in these circumstances helps Senator Craig to awaken, turn, and avoid greater destruction.

Second, we should fight hypocrisy. Our own, not Senator Craig’s. Of course, in his case, the political cartoonists and late-night TV hosts have had a heyday working the hypocrisy shtick. But once again, the gospel changes our viewpoint and reminds us that we are all sinners in need of a Savior. The cross reminds us that when we speak of sin, we need cast the problem in terms of “we/us” rather than “they/them.” Only a blatant liar or a self-deceived fool would lambast Senator Craig for hypocrisy and not admit the same despicable hypocrisy in his/her own heart. Who among us has a perfectly pure heart? Which of us does not know the shadows and distortions of sexual perversion in our own depraved soul, at least at some level? “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone” (Jn 8:7). One of the things that makes Christianity (and conservative politics) so objectionable to many people is the hypocrisy that so often characterizes those claiming to be its adherents. This is a criticism we can deflect, not by being perfect through our own self-righteousness, but by admitting that we are not perfect, casting ourselves on God’s mercy, and directing attention to the only Perfect One who ever lived.

Finally, we should love each other. If Senator Craig wanted to find a safe place to retreat this weekend, a place where he would be loved and not laugh at, helped and not harangued, do you think he should come to your church? I would suggest that if we were loving each other as Jesus intended (cf. Jn 13:35), then scandalous, self-conscious sinners would know that they are welcome among us. What a great reputation to have! We might actually start hearing the sorts of accusations Jesus heard: “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” (Lk 5:30)

So next time Larry Craig’s face is paraded across your TV, let it be your reminder to pray, to be real, and to love.

New Mercies, Take Two

2007-08-30T08:49:00.000-06:00

Another Perspective

NOTE: My good friend Brad, who lives in Michigan, emailed me his response to my post from yesterday. It's very funny, but that's not the only reason I'm posting it. I'm posting it mainly because it makes the same point I was endeavoring to make, but from a much different perspective. Enjoy!

My morning goes more like this…Alarm goes off and I am already tired – oh wait, that wasn’t the alarm…it was my daughter kicking me in the ribs while she, still asleep, rolls for the 100th time in our bed. I jump out of bed (no…I am still half asleep and only imagine jumping out of bed). My back hurts far too much to jump, so I rise slowly, trying to straighten the kinks. As I head to the shower, I see the framework of the sun rising outside the bathroom window, desperately trying to fight its way through many layers of clouds. After stepping from the shower, I see myself in all my natural glory, marveling at the 30 pounds I put on over night…thought about riding a bike a few years ago. As I lumber out into the room to try to cover my flabbiness, I hear the crisscross of small feet in the rafters of the bedroom ceiling - not my sons, but some other denizen of this fallen world seeking the destruction of my home. I too see light coming from downstairs, only to discover that it is emanating from the basement. This particular light reminds me of a trick candle – no matter how many times I turn it off, it comes back on within a few minutes (I have a similar one in the garage). Eventually, I make it to the garage, glass of cold water and box of dry cereal in hand (my creative breakfast most days). I trip over the bike I thought of a few years back, then trip a few more times over kid’s bikes, a rusting pitchback, and a few other items. I gingerly attempt to make my way through the minefield I call my garage. In the process I spill some water on my computer bag (carrying that in my third arm) and hope it doesn’t make it to the computer. I hop in the car and start driving, shaking to the familiar wobble in a tire or some other part of the drivetrain that is refusing to be diagnosed and repaired properly. Another day has begun.

Strangely I have the same thought as you…

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

Thanks, Brad, for the great reminder that it's not the glory of the morning but the glory of our God that satisfies our soul!

New Mercies

2007-08-29T08:53:00.000-06:00

The Beginnings of Another Day

Alarm sounds. Snooze. A voice in my head: “It’s too dark to ride.” Alarm. Snooze. Another voice: “The whole day goes better when it begins on time.”

My wife stirs, my eyes open, and my feet slide over the side of the bed. With contacts in, riding gear on, and Zune in hand, I head for the garage. My three-year-old son stands in the doorway as I stretch by the van: “Hi, Dad.” He rubs his eyes and yawns as I turn him around and head him back toward his bunk.

It’s a cool morning, and wet. I stand on the pedals, letting the wind awaken my body and mind as I coast downhill. The sky is brightening, but the full moon is still visible above the mountains to the west, streaked with a few thin clouds. As I turn uphill to the north, the long incline burns my lungs and legs. The mountain air is invigorating, and I savor the smells: fresh rain and wet lumber. Two of my favorites.

I stray from my normal route and turn east to watch the sun rise as I climb another hill. Cresting the ridge, I see the thumbnail of fire breaking the horizon and scattering the darkness from the forests and fields around me.

Three miles out I turn and head for home. The downhill ride makes my ears ache with the wind, but it gives me the chance to relax a bit and coast. A yellow spray of wildflowers covers the hills. A snake moves on the pavement. Two bucks bound across the road in front of me; a doe lags behind.

Braking slowly, my bike glides to rest next to my wife’s. I slip quietly back into the house and notice that lights are on in the bathroom, the kitchen, and the hallway. Apparently my attempt to delay my son’s waking failed, and his quest for breakfast is fully underway. After making sure he’s all set, I grab my journal and Bible and head for the couch. Another day has begun.

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23

A Reminder of Home

2007-08-28T18:48:00.000-06:00

...In the Death of a Friend

I miss my brother-in-law. It’s weird. Sometimes I sort of forget that he’s gone, and I have this spontaneous urge to call him up. About six months ago during a time of extreme mental and emotional fatigue, I even had a fleeting moment driving home one day where I picked up my phone and actually started looking for his number. I remember having a vague notion that he had left and gone to a place where I hadn’t been able to talk to him for a while, but strangely, my weary mind suggested: “Oh! I could just call him!” And a half-second later I remembered that that number had been disconnected for months, and the quiet ache settled in all over again…

I wish I had some profound thing to say about all this, but I don’t. But that figures, because raw emotion is usually ineffable anyway. The closest emotional category I know to put it in is longing, but even that isn’t quite right. It’s deeper than normal longing, and heavier, but with tiny flecks of gratefulness and joy here and there, too.

There is a positive in all this, a silver lining around this dark cloud that has lingered on my horizon for so long. It always reminds me that I’m not home. I think C.S. Lewis is probably right when he says, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” (Mere Christianity)

Ed’s death is God’s reminder to me that something is dreadfully wrong here, but that thankfully, “here” is not my main address. I’m a traveler, one who has lost a dear companion on the journey, but one who knows that he’s not lost or fallen behind. He just beat me home.

His memorial service was 13 months ago today. My sister asked me to speak, and so, reluctantly, I did. These were my closing two paragraphs:

I recently read of a man whose wife passed away from an incredibly painful disease. Her suffering had been especially intense in her final days, and a few hours after it ended, her husband said to their pastor, “Pastor John, I think my wife suffered as much as Jesus did.” To which the pastor tenderly responded: “Perhaps. And if so, when their eyes met three hours ago, they didn't have to say much.”

That’s how I’ve imaged Ed’s home going. Face to face with Jesus, one of those broad Ed-Horn smiles, but not many words. One look said it all. And during their strong embrace, I have no doubt that Jesus put his lips to Ed’s ear and whispered: “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Welcome home."

I think I started this post out wrong. I put a period on that first sentence a little prematurely. After thinking about it a little more here, I guess it would have been more accurate to say, “I miss my brother-in-law… because he reminds me of home.”

Sir Justin the Bold

2006-11-02T09:13:00.000-07:00

To Justin, my adventurous and chivalrous son
From Dad
On your 6th birthday: October 27, 2006

NOTE: I love to write goofy little poems for people. Usually I just stick them in birthday cards for friends or scratch them on the front porch at home with sidewalk chalk. But a few weeks ago, my wife challenged me to undertake to write a special poem for my kids on their birthday each year, and I agreed to give it a try. The boys have been studying the Middle Ages in school. Added to Justin’s well-established love for swordplay and his gentlemanly spirit toward ladies, I was all set for a fitting tribute to my second son. Enjoy!

In these fair lands the tale is told
Of a young knight—Justin the Bold,
The bravest hero in the West,
Who set out on a daring quest
To save a princess from her fate
Of landing on a dragon’s plate!

Sir Justin braved the mountains cold
And mighty seas where high waves rolled;
Across the desert without rest,
He came upon his greatest test—
The dragon’s castle, black as slate
And there behind the iron gate
He saw, with princess in his hold,
The dragon on a heap of gold.

Hot flame spewed from the evil pest
And blazed upon the royal crest
Of Justin’s shield. And with a great
Charge Justin slew the beast of hate,
Thrusting his spear into a fold
Between the dragon’s armor old.
And catching up the maiden lest
She fall, he smiled and did his best
To get her home and not be late
So they could go on their first date!

Sabbatical

2006-09-25T09:48:00.000-06:00

An Explanation

After 366 days of complete silence, I figured an explanation was in order. I am currently in my final semester of seminary and, if all goes as planned, will be free to write again in January. I'm hoping to find a nice rhythm of posting new Waltzian Heresies a couple times a week, if my priorities shake down as I expect they will. See you in 2007!

The 1994 I Never Knew

2005-09-24T21:57:00.000-06:00

Reflections on Hotel Rwanda

I remember the summer of 1994 very clearly. I spent 12 weeks traveling the western United States with 6 friends, singing, acting, and just having an all around great time. We spent a day at Disneyland. We surfed at Pismo Beach. We crisscrossed the Rockies. We spent a night buried in sand on top of Soldier Mountain in the Mojave Desert. We visited the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and Yosemite. We got all we could of San Francisco: Alcatraz, Chinatown, Broadway’s The Phantom of the Opera, even clam chowder out of a sourdough bread bowl at Fisherman’s Wharf.

I made two of the best friendships of my life that summer: Josh, who loosened me up in more ways than I can count, who stood up in my wedding, who still calls every couple months just to see how I’m doing even though he’s a major player for an internationally known and massively influential youth ministry; and Aundrea, whom it was the greatest honor of my life (knowing God excepted) to marry.

Yeah, my summer of ’94 was absolutely incredible.

Not so on the other side of the world. In April-July of 1994, an estimated 800,000 Rwandans were massacred by their own countrymen in less than 100 days.

I just watched Hotel Rwanda. “Watched” is hardly the right verb, but my numbed mind can’t command a more fitting one right now. I was able to restrain most of my emotion during the film, but when the final image froze and the credits began to roll, the dam broke and the hard sobbing began.

Just last night I spoke to some teens of my experiences in Kenya the summer before The Great ’94. In 1993 I fulfilled one of my life’s dreams: to visit Africa. For 6 weeks we worked among the Kenyan people and a bond was forged in my soul.

I love Africa. My first gift to Aundrea was a cherished “Kenya” sweatshirt that I purchased on the streets of Nairobi. The clock in my office is a brass map of the continent, complete with country outlines and a few animal figurines. My shelves and walls are covered with African carvings and musical instruments and keepsakes. Basically, I’d love to end up there for good someday cuz I… love… Africa.

Thankfully, Director Terry George spares viewers most of the gore and unimaginable horror of those months in Rwanda. But my imagination fills in the gaps with horrible effectiveness. And when I turn my thoughts back home, back to me and my own life, this movie helps me to see some things I really, really hate.

I hate my ignorance. I was living large and partying on while Rwandans were fleeing and falling from machetes. And I had no idea.

I hate my apathy. The little snippets I heard about Rwanda failed to produce any marked effect in my soul. That was over 10 years ago, but similar things are happening today on a much smaller scale in Myanmar, Sudan, Uganda, etc., etc., etc. Yet I tend to stress more over the price of gas than these atrocities.

And I hate my sin. When the rolling credits were reflecting off my tear-drenched cheeks, I heard myself crying out, “Oh, God… Oh, God, why?” And the only answer I know is "sin." Sin does this to us. Satan brought us this Pandora’s Box. The nearest rival in the universe to the height of God’s love for humanity is the depth of Satan’s hate. And every time I bite into the fruit he offers me, I’m feeding from the hand that soaked Africa in Rwandan blood.

I’m sure there’s more to say about Hotel Rwanda and even more to say about the horror of genocide. I suppose I should add “I hate my lack of skill to evoke compassion in readers” to the list above. But I don’t imagine that God brought me this movie tonight for your benefit, my good readers. He brought it to me for mine. And I thank Him for it. I’ll never look at the summer of 1994 the same way again.

Getting Glad in God

2005-09-15T12:09:00.000-06:00

My New Blogging Venture

If you're interested, I've begun a second weblog. As you'll read from the description at the top of the page, it's basically my devotional journal.

My goal for my own devos is to get my heart happy in God, and so that's the intent of publishing these thoughts to the web—to stir up joy in God in your own heart.

I also have a couple secondary purposes: 1) to offer you something of a pattern, though an admittedly weak one, for your own reading and meditating on the Scriptures; 2) to offer me a little public accountability for writing something worth reading in my devo journal.

So check it out at your leisure. I hope you’re delighted by what you see of God there.

Math vs. The Creative Writer

2005-09-11T00:15:00.000-06:00

The Christian Priority Of Language

Math is so round
As I lay on the ground
Trees call me

Baffled? I was, too, the first time I heard those lines. We were in pre-calc, sitting in the back row, struggling with some new math thing, when my friend leaned his head back on the chalkboard and spontaneously expressed his bewilderment with that three-line poem. Go figure…

Crazy as it is, this little bit of poetry sets me right up for what I want to say in this post. By bursting forth into verse, my buddy showed me something about himself at that moment—that math wasn’t his natural territory; language was. He was a pretty decent logical-mathematical thinker, but his “primary intelligence” was linguistic.

In case you have no idea what I’m talking about, here’s a little educational psychology. About 20 years ago Howard Gardner, an education professor at Harvard, recognized that different people seem to show intelligence in different areas. Some people are really good with words, others are good with numbers, others are musical, others are relational, others are visual, etc. His theory of multiple intelligences laid out eight different types of intelligence, eight different ways people receive and process information.

The result? Well-trained teachers don’t restrict themselves to the “I-talk-and-you-listen” method of instruction anymore. Thanks to Gardner, now we’ve got hands-on projects, music, group cooperation, art activities, role play, multimedia, inner reflection, and all kinds of other teaching techniques being used in the classroom for just about every subject. If you’re a visual learner who likes pictures more than words, that’s OK: we’ll teach you your way. If you’re more musical than logical, no worries. We won’t press you into our mold.

So far so good. In my last post I mentioned that I’m teaching math to my boys this year. In our first lesson, we played with blocks. We drew pictures. I talked; they listened. I demonstrated; they followed. I queried; they answered. I applied all the diverse methods I could. Why? Cuz I took ed psych in college, and I believe Gardner was right: different intelligences warrant different teaching methods.

Gardner’s influence doesn’t stop with schools these days. He’s also begun to shape how we do church, too, most noticeably in how we preach. A song inserted into the sermon helps drive home the point for musical learners. A video clip or a drama sets things up nicely for those who are visually oriented. Giving each worshipper a little item to represent the topic of the sermon offers those bodily-kinesthetic learners something to touch and manipulate.

But here is where I get a little more cautious. Here’s where I want to inject a little bit of sober reflection into our unrestrained enthusiasm for multiple intelligence theory. It’s not a matter of propriety or tradition or association. None of these reasons makes me balk at the new approaches to public sermon delivery. What makes me uncomfortable is the apparent assumption that all intelligences are equally valuable, equally helpful, equally desirable, and equally Christian.

I disagree. Christianity, it seems to me, places a clear preference upon linguistic learning. Why do I say that? Two main reasons:

1. God revealed Himself in a book, more precisely, a book of words and not pictures. Presumably, He could have waited until DVD technology was available; after all, He waited at least until paper was around. But His choice to reveal Himself in a book says something important about what sort of learning best suits Christian instruction. Historically, Christians have always recognized this, demonstrated by the phenomenon that where Christianity increased, literacy also increased.

2. God can be known most accurately and completely through words. No visual representation of Him could ever convey His glory completely. Subjectivity and ambiguity render images unsuitable for teaching us the most important things we need to know about God. This is the whole point about general vs. special revelation. We need words from God, not just images. In fact, the Second Commandment actually prohibits us from trying to depict Him visually, a clear argument for the priority of language in communicating about God.

Lest I be misunderstood, let me point out that Christian worship appropriately incorporates every one of Gardner’s intelligences in some way or another: cultivating relationships, observing the ordinances (baptism and the communion), singing, self-examination, etc. All of these are integral to Christianity. But there’s a clear priority on verbal, propositional instruction.

So what’s the point?

The minor point is that Christianity doesn't view all the intelligences as equal. We must hear words from God, and I think pastors would do well to uphold that understanding by prioritizing the spoken word over all other forms of communication when they bring the word of God to their people.

The major point is this: cultivate your aptitude for verbal thought. Read. Write. Listen. Work very hard to make your mind more receptive to logical, propositional thought. To my little math students I say, "Devin and Justin, learn your math well; but know that in the end, numbers serve words. We do math in order to do language better. And we do language in order to know God."

No matter what kind of learner you are, cultivate your ability to receive and process words. Why? Because Christianity would survive without pictures or music or numbers. But not without words.

Adding Up To A Promising Tomorrow

2005-09-07T08:19:00.000-06:00

What’s At Stake In Your Everyday Math Class

Everything changed today. As I drove away from home, I had that feeling that we were on the brink of something really big and there's no going back. See, about two weeks ago my wife and I made the very, very tough decision to educate our boys at home this year, and so now Dad, the math major, has a math date with the little dudes at 7:45 at the dining room table every morning.

Today was the first day of school. Just like that I’m back in the educational scene again, but this time I’m on the teacher’s side of the desk for the first time since I left teaching to become a youth pastor back in 1997.

We don't know how long we're going to keep this educational arrangement. We’re taking it one step at a time. Might be just this year; might be quite a while. Our expectation is that we’ll keep it this way until all five of our children complete 8th grade. That’s a long time. Devin is 8 years away from high school, but Julia Grace won’t be there for 13-14 years. And like I said, that is a looong time.

And so as I drove away from home, I had the distinct feeling that we were talking about an arrangement that could last for quite a while. My mind immediately zoomed out into panoramic, big picture mode. My thoughts raced ahead several years to some future day when we’ll have spent literally thousands of hours on math alone. Five days a week, nine months a year, for eight long years, we’ll meet, and we’ll work over some mathematical concept. What do I want my little dudes to take away from all this?

A gazillion ideas came to answer the question I posed to myself. Two of them—two reasons for all this expenditure of time, money, and mental energy—caught my attention and dominated my thoughts for the rest of my drive to the office. I’ll treat one in this post and the other in the next (which is when I’ll finally get to the importance of language, which I promised I’d write about in my last post ages and ages ago…)

Math is worth the effort, not so much because of what it puts in our mind, but because of what it does to our mind. In my opinion, math is less about content and more about effect.

Here’s what I mean. When we learn that 1 + 1 = 2, we are given an indispensable element of a successful future in math. It’s also a relatively helpful bit of knowledge for everyday life.

But when we nail down this little 1st grade mathematical concept, there are much bigger things at work in our brain. We’re actually learning far more than the mere sum of 1 and 1. For example, learning that 1 plus 1 equals 2 also teaches us:

to assume the existence of universals and absolutes. No one proposes that 1 + 1 can be whatever you’d like it to be. It’s always 2 for every person everywhere.
to rely on logic rather than observation or intuition as the standard of truth. A child’s intuition might lead him/her to believe that 1 + 1 = 1, following the pattern of ones in the left half of the equation; but logic demonstrates that things are not always as they appear.
to follow deliberate, objective steps in moving toward a conclusion. Math forces us to follow rules of thought, sometimes self-consciously, thus sharpening our ability to think clearly and properly.
to think creatively in solving problems we don’t remember seeing before. The problem-solving skills we develop in math class have far broader effects than just getting 4 credits toward a high school diploma.
to work with symbols, thus enhancing our ability to handle abstraction. The black marks on the page that appear to us as 1 + 1 = 2 are actually universal symbols that we use to represent a specific proposition: any 1 thing coupled with any other 1 thing nets you 2 things.

I suppose a real mathematician could go on and on with the list. My point is this: math does something to our mind. All those multiplication tables in 4th grade and word problems in 7th grade and geometric proofs in 10th grade actually shape our brain to work in certain ways. They are like the forms that construction workers put in place when they pour concrete, getting our mind ready to handle abstract, propositional thought with accuracy and fluency. Years and years of math ready us for a future of careful, productive cognition in every other discipline: theology, ethics, history, the languages, the arts, all of them.

So here we are, with thousands of hours of math before us. And what do I see? As a math teacher, I see myself shaping little brains, training ready minds, raising young thinkers… and wearing out a whole lot of pencil lead and erasers along the way!

Got a math class this semester? Great! Need some motivation? How about this: working hard at math gets you a thousand intellectual benefits later in life.

All this time you’ve been complaining about that confusing, irritating y = mx + b stuff… all the fears that it might keep you from a high SAT, a top-notch college, and that great career… Actually, the exact opposite is true! The way I see it, today’s Slope-Intercept Form is tomorrow’s irrefutable argument or well-reasoned decision or creative solution!

So there you have it. Math: today’s ticket to a promising tomorrow!

When Words Won’t Work

2005-05-31T08:37:00.000-06:00

What We Learn When Life Leaves Us Speechless

Sometimes I wonder if words get in the way of what our heart really wants to share. Ever feel like that? You’re speechless, not for lack of something to say but because words can’t quite capture it.

I’ve seen that happen to lots of people as they try to describe their feelings about God or a struggle they’re dealing with or the reason they made the decision they made. Our feelings often surpass our ability to communicate them.

Just thinking about it takes my mind in lots of different directions. (How ironic that there’s so much to say about being speechless!) Here are some of the questions that come to mind…

I wonder if this what the Bible means when it talks about the groanings of our spirit or when it says things like “we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words” (Rom 8:26).

I wonder if, when the words are working for us, we tend to hold back a little bit in our effort to communicate. I mean, those moments when words fail us, we usually get all animated and start using gestures and sounds (like when “talking” to someone who doesn’t speak very much English). We put everything we’ve got into our attempt to share our message. But when the words are there, we just kind of blurt out the first phrase that comes to mind, expecting the listeners to understand it just like we meant it.

I wonder if, when we are the listener and not the speaker, we content ourselves with hearing only the words and miss the meaning. Perhaps we’re too quick to assume that if we hear their words, we’ve understood their heart.

And I wonder if there’s a way to talk and a way to listen that makes those wordless moments workable anyway. I wonder if we can train ourselves to listen to someone’s heart so well that the words kind of fade into the background and we actually hear a person instead of just some words.

Anyway, I’ve come to a conclusion from all this talk about being speechless. It’s certainly true that God has graciously given human beings the capacity for language, and we are foolish to neglect it (more about that in the next post…). But we are even more foolish to suppose that mere verbalizing equals communicating.

In our relationships with other people, I think we would do really well NOT to assume that simply saying our piece or listening to theirs means that we’ve reached an understanding. Human beings are not mere minds that think with mouths that talk. We have a body that directly encounters our world and a soul that filters and sorts and shapes and is shaped by what we experience. And sometimes those experiences go beyond what we are able to put into words.

I think God does that to us on purpose. Why? To remind us that we aren’t God, first of all. Only He has infinite capacity for Self-expression. But there’s probably another reason. Perhaps God gives us those speechless moments just so we’ll remember that real communication goes way beyond words and phrases and clauses. Real communication happens heart to heart, soul to soul, person to person. It’s beyond logic and deeper than emotion. When you experience it—when you really connect with someone—it’s… it’s…

To Teach Us To Love

2005-03-24T08:52:00.000-07:00

Reflecting on Terri Schiavo’s Case

I see at least two angles from which to approach Terry Schiavo’s situation. The first is the moral/legal angle: is what is happening to her right or wrong? In my opinion, the answer is pretty straightforward: passive euthanasia is as indefensible as active euthanasia.

The second angle is the personal one: should her situation affect me personally? There’s probably a whole lot we could say here, but what follows gets to the very heart of the matter. My sister wrote these reflections on Terri’s case in her journal yesterday. Her entry affected me so deeply, I asked her if I could republish it here. (For those who are concerned about such things, I changed the names.) Here’s her post…

The Terri Schiavo case seems to drag on and on, pushing into the numb areas of our brains til we no longer want to hear any more about it. Til we no longer care, really. That’s just human nature—it doesn’t affect me personally, and until it does, please just shut up about it. I went to the website that tells her story, and I felt it begin to affect me personally. So I thought I'd tell why.

I used to work in a huge 24-hour care hospice for mentally retarded, physically handicapped, often self-abusive people. I worked in the children’s ward. Each CNA was assigned a group of 4 to 6 children, often separated by gender. I was assigned the boy’s group more often than not because of my age and physical strength. I grew to love those boys in a way that has never left me.

Brandon -- autistic and mentally retarded. He would play for hours with difficult toys, holding them just out of his vision and operating them perfectly. He walked with gigantic, jerky steps. He was tall for 16, and his autism ran him into a mental and emotional cave. I discovered that he would let me hug him from behind, digging my chin into his right shoulder and humming. He would not only let me, he would actually giggle.

Brent -- he was my first grand mal seizure. I cried. I'd never seen a human form reduced to such helplessness. When it was over, he was limp. It was the only time Brent was ever able to be limp. His muscles were normally stretched taut, poisoned by rigidity. He was sweet and precious in his coos and smiles and huge eyes. He was 14.

Marky -- what a challenge. Tiny, soooo tiny. He was 17, but I could carry him as easily as I carry my 4-year-old today. He would slam any area of his body into his large, pointed teeth. He had sores and green infection all over from his self-abuse. He was born with no eyes. He had the highest cognitive ability of any of our residents. He could feed himself, walk unassisted, bathe himself, drink, use the bathroom. He would go into fits of rage and throw himself around his room, damaging his body horribly. I was afraid of him. Then I found out how much he loved his baths. I had to lay entire blankets into the tub, lining the hard sides, before filling it with water, but every single night I'd go through the ritual for him. He'd let me undress him and put him in, and then he'd grope about, trying to find the hard surface he knew was there. He wanted to bash his face into it, repeatedly. I'd gently redirect him, guiding his hand to the surface of the warm water, hoping he'd relax and begin to pat it with his boney hand, like he loved to do. I'd sing to him, and I'd tell him that I loved him. After his bath, I'd cuddle him on his bed, rocking him and singing to him. He'd relax into me and breathe in a humming fashion to himself. His destructive fits began to take on a personal pain for me. His parents, unlike most of the others, lived just down the street. They never visited. Not once in the three years I was there. They sent a card for his birthday one time, and I don't believe what he did to it had anything at all to do with chance. I read him the card and helped him feel the fuzzy animals on it. He held it, sat still, and slowly ejected a large wad of spit onto it. I felt the same way.

Kendall -- my little doll. He was born normal, but he had a drop seizure at age two. He was forever two, at 16 years old. He would grab his pillow and yell, "BED!!!" Or he'd point at a picture and grin madly while hollering, "BALL!!!!" He had to wear a football helmet because of his drop seizures, but you could always see his grin and big brown eyes through the face. Everyone was
"mommy" to him.

There were so many others. But the one that I think of when I think of Terri Schiavo is a girl named Anna. She was most often in my co-worker Becca's group. I would help Becca with Anna because Anna required large blocks velcroed between her legs and arms/body every night. And a diaper, of course. Everyone wore diapers. Anna was one of our tube feeders. The other was Chelsea, a responsive, smiley little girl. Anna was the daughter of a couple who had died in a house fire. She survived, but barely. She did nothing; she was capable of absolutely nothing. I never understood why she was even alive. Chelsea's tube feedings were three times a day, administered by us with the nurse on duty. She knew she was eating and would even lick her lips as we filled the tube in her tummy. Anna's tube feeding was constant, like an IV drip. One night, fully expecting Becca's ready agreement, I said in a cutting tone, "I don't even understand why Anna is alive or even here. She is practically comatose." Becca dropped what she was doing, and her eyes met mine, rather shocked and horrified. "Do you really feel that way, Danna?" "Well, not to be mean, but yeah, she never responds, never moves, is capable of NOTHING, yet she lives on through the tube feeding and all our administrations." Becca set her jaw, and asked me to follow her. When we reached Anna's bedside, Becca motioned for me to be quiet. She leaned down to Anna, looking full in her face. "Hi, Sunshine," she cooed at her. "How are you tonight? Do you know I love you, Sunshine?" Anna's body made a shifty move and she smiled a wide, contorted, toothy smile, her fingers flexing jerkily. I felt stabbed. With guilt . . . with total regret. I was red-faced as I walked out next to Becca, and I thanked her for setting me straight.

Anna became one of my biggest blessings after that. She changed my life. She would be described as "no quality of life" and maybe even "persistive vegetative state" incorrectly like Terri Schiavo. But sometimes it's not for us to decide quality by our own subjective standards. Sometimes it's just our responsibility to love and care for our weaker brothers.

I have two daughters. I suffered from an eating disorder. I relate to Terri Schiavo on a couple levels, and I relate to her parents on a universal level. I don't understand why Terri's husband will not relinquish his control, allowing the people who are the reason he is WITH Terri to have her back as their child, their responsibility. Terri is not on life support. She is tube fed. Just like Chelsea and Anna. She is loved and her life is valued.

Why is our justice system bent on protecting a man who does not have the best interests of all involved at heart? Eating disorders don't come from nowhere; my suspicions are ALL on him. He has made two children with his current girlfriend. None of this adds up to "loving" his wife. Why can't he let her go to the ones who want to spend their lives caring for their daughter? I think I would pull a "John Q" if I were them, if either of my daughters was being tormented by her husband like Terri Schiavo is. She left no will, he puts words into her mouth, and from her history, it would appear it's not the first time.

I believe Terri's life is worth protecting. As much I believe the lives of my own children are. Anna taught me that. And I believe that's why God allows Anna and people like her to live: to teach us to love.

Scolding Squirrels and Pesky Parents

2005-03-05T16:49:00.000-07:00

How Life Doesn’t Come Naturally to Humans

As I was walking out to my car today, a squirrel hopped down from one of our trees, bounced across the lawn, and scurried up one of our neighbor’s trees. He found a perch to his liking on a limb about 20 feet up where he hunkered down and scolded me with all his little might. I noticed that about ⅔ of his tail was missing, which really got my attention and started me to thinking: “Wow, you’re in a bad mood! What’s with the attitude? And what in the world happened to your poor tail?”

Driving away, I kept thinking about my little woodland critter-criticizer. But now I was thinking in broader categories: “Squirrels use their tail for all kinds of stuff. He must be quite a survivor to live with the little stubby one he’s got. How did he do it? I wonder if he had a tail-loss support group for a while…” And then my train of thought derailed entirely and careened off in a direction that can probably happen only my randomly wired mind…

I started marveling at all the amazing things animals do without any training whatsoever. Little birds leave the nest without ever learning how to build one. Squirrels just know that it’s time to gather food in the fall. Salmon swimming upstream, beavers building dams, bees making honey, whales singing their song… who teaches them this stuff? Sure, some animal species do a little more “child-training” than others, but for the most part, life just comes naturally to animals.

Not so for people, though. We don’t “do life” very well if we’re left to ourselves. Infant human beings have a very limited repertoire of innate abilities: sucking, the falling reflex, stuff like that. And it’s true that a normal, healthy child has incredible potential for development, some of which happens naturally: motor skill progression, language acquisition, and all the other cool stuff you study in developmental psychology. But generally speaking, human beings require purposeful care and training to live, or at least, to live well.

Think about it… Imagine if you had to approach life entirely on your own, no teachers, no models, nothing. You’re given all the raw materials of life but no instruction for how to use them. So you start in on teaching yourself the skills of childhood—tying shoes, adding numbers, telling time, reading words. It’s conceivable that you could eventually learn to do it all on your own; after all, somewhere back there in history some pioneering mathematician worked out 2 + 2 all by himself. But can you imagine the inefficiency, the repeated failures, the frustration, the wasted time and energy?

And then you come to the skills of adolescence and young adulthood—choosing friends, making major decisions, developing your own views of right and wrong, learning to handle your own emotions and desires. Once again, it’s conceivable that you could eventually learn to do it all on your own. But just imagine the inefficiency, the repeated failures, the frustration, the wasted time and energy. Our instincts don’t serve us very well when it comes to this stuff; for our species, life goes better with a teacher.

But here’s where it gets a little sticky… For some strange reason, somewhere along the way to adolescence, we get the idea that we’re ready to go it on our own. We come to believe we’re ready to live by our own instincts. We’re convinced that life comes naturally to us, and we don’t need the help of models or teachers anymore. Hmmm… how strange. But I’ve gotten ahead of myself a bit…

Ever think about what God could have done? He didn’t have to set up our world this way, right? I mean, He created this world; He wrote the rules; He could have set it up any way He wanted. He could have created us to be just like squirrels, where everything just comes naturally and we negotiate through life perfectly well from start to finish with very few dependencies or needs. But He didn’t do it that way. He created us with built-in deficiencies, a need for careful training, an irremediable lack if left to ourselves. God made us this way on purpose.

And then He gave us some built-in, batteries-included, complete package, personal tutors to help us learn what we need to live well. Any idea what I’m talking about? Think it’s your school? Nope. The internet? Not really. Angels who come down and help every new generation? Not quite. God’s solution for our inability to live well on our own is our own parents.

These words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. (Dt 6:6-7)

God commanded our fathers to teach their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments. (Ps 78:5-7)

Why all this strange contrasting of human development with squirrels? Cuz I want you to take full advantage of the access God has given you to your own personal life coaches. Here’s what I mean…

If you’re still living at home or simply away at college, realize that God gave you parents for a reason. Don’t be so foolish or so arrogant as to assume that you’ll do perfectly fine negotiating through life on your own, thank you very much. Remember how nice it was to have parents who could help you learn your multiplication tables? Well, why not ask them for help with that problem at your lunch table… or with that really huge question you’ve been afraid to ask… or with that temptation you’re struggling with… or with that relationship that you’re mulling over… or whatever else it is. God gave you parents; use ’em!

But not everyone has that option cuz their situation is different. Know what? The family is still the answer even for people with really dysfunctional parents… or only one parent… or none at all. How is that true? Well, that’s where the church comes in as the “family of God.” What your own parents lack in character or wisdom or influence, God intends for you to get from a church family. Even when you’re out of the house and on your own, God still wants you in a family. He gave you the church; use it!

So here’s the deal… You might as well give up on the idea that you’re ready to tackle life on your own. It’s not gonna happen. Ever. Life doesn’t come naturally to humans. We need instructors, teachers, models, and friends. In short, we need family. So quit acting like you’re some squirrel. It’s time to quit reading this blog, get off the internet, and get talking to your parents!

Get Real, Part 2

2005-03-03T20:42:00.000-07:00

Making It Happen

Nick asked a really good question after reading the post “Get Real” below: “How can we fight the easy but disappointing tendency to keep to ourselves?” I thought a lot about it, wrote out ¾ of my answer a couple days later, and then tucked it away with all my other unfinished posts. Until now…

How can we fight for community? My answer falls into two parts, a two-directional approach that targets our own heart first and then our approach to relationships second.

In our original created state, complete openness extended all the way to our physical forms: “And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed.” (Gen 2:25) The point here is not nudity; it’s community. They had absolutely nothing to hide. Total openness, nothing concealed. But obviously that state of perfect community didn’t last beyond the first recorded human meal. The first two things they did after their dinner of forbidden fruit were to get dressed and to hide from God. The lesson is pretty clear: sin destroys community.

This realization is a pretty important part of the answer in and of itself, because we don’t usually fear sin for what it will do to our relationships with others. Typically we fear sin because we like a clean conscience or we want to stay out of jail or we want to keep up our image in the eyes of other people. Rarely do we fear sin because we love being so close to people and we know sin will pull us apart. But the simple realization that sin ruins relationships—even sin that is not inherently related to the relationship itself—this awareness heightens the stakes considerably. Temptation loses lots of luster when I realize that even my secret sins or my little problems like greed and pride and laziness ruin the intimacy in my marriage, my friendships, and my community.

So the first way to fight for community is to fight sin in our own lives. My own sin is the biggest obstacle to intimacy in any of my relationships. Peter makes this point when he writes: “Now that you have purified your souls by your obedience to the truth so that you have genuine mutual love, love one another deeply from the heart.” (1 Pt 1:22) In other words, we can’t connect when we’re covered with crud. It’s like trying to hook up a trailer that’s been sitting with its hitch in the mud: the connection isn’t possible until you get the gook out.

The second way to fight for community is to develop a cross-centered approach to our relationships. Put most simply, a cross-centered mindset works like this: “I’m completely forgiven and accepted by God because of Jesus. So how does that impact this friendship?”

For example, genuine community demands openness: no secrets, no façade, no desire to impress. False pretenses make pretend friendships. The alternative, of course, is to be who we really are, but yikes! What if we open up and we get rejected? Ouch! What a risk!

Enter the gospel… The cross minimizes risk in a couple ways. First, since the most important Person in the universe accepts us, it matters a lot less if other people don’t. Second, the cross means that the crud people might see when we let them in isn’t our permanent crud. We’re actually a guest on God’s “Complete Makeover: Soul Edition.” People are a lot more forgiving when they realize there’s a transformation going on, like when they see those “Please Excuse Our Mess” signs at the mall when they’re remodeling a store.

The need to be cross-centered is pretty obvious, if we think about it. After all, the cross fixed what the Fall ruined. If we understand that the Fall ruined community, we can intuit that the cross restores it.

One of clearest examples of people living in really close community, sharing their stuff, and enjoying intimate relationships is the Jerusalem church. “Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common.” (Acts 4:32) Where did that kind of community come from? The very next verse says, “And with great power the apostles were giving their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus.” I take that to mean, among other things, that this was a group profoundly centered on the gospel. The gospel is the garden where real community grows.

So, that’s my answer. The first step is directed inward; the second is outward. Fight sin in your own life; live the gospel with others. There’s probably a whole lot more to it that these two things, but I am pretty sure that these two are at the very heart of the matter.

One more thing… I think we’re going to need some very powerful motivation if we’re going to break out of our comfortable but uninspiring habits and pursue community like this. We need more than technique; we need inspiration. So how about this…

John takes up the theme of community in his first letter, and he hits it pretty hard. He’s arguing with all his might for close fellowship, extolling our love for each other, commending forgiveness, going on and on. But just a couple verses into the subject, he gives us his motive for writing: “we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete” (1 Jn 1:4). Catch it? He’s stirring them up to pursue community so that his joy and theirs will be full, perfect, complete. So there you go…

Want to be fully, perfectly, completely happy? Get real.

Hi!

2005-02-23T10:40:00.000-07:00

...And A Quick Update

Hey all you Waltzian Heretics out there! Just a quick post to let you know I’m still alive and I intend to keep writing. BUT… I have to figure out when.

Things have been crazybusy lately (to use a term coined by another blogger). If you were to check the date on my last post, you’d have the exact moment my life hit warp speed. My seminary classes started up again that second week in January, and things haven’t been the same since. In fact, even as I write this post I’m spooning soup into my mouth between sentences, opting for a working lunch instead of the preferable “lunch break.” (Reminds me of Jesus’ situation in Mark 6:31: “many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.” Yep, that’s me – just like Jesus!)

So anyway, please check back occasionally. I think I’m getting a little better handle on things. And thanks to those of you who have continued to check and have even asked me what’s up. Life is what’s up.

Get Real

2005-01-10T15:35:00.000-07:00

Secrecy, Authenticity and Community

A discussion came up in class today about a question I’ve been pondering for the last month or two. It’s a pretty straightforward issue: living with authenticity, being who you really are, taking “what you see is what you get” as a motto for life. The tough part is gauging how rigorously to apply this value to our daily lives. I’m not talking about speaking your mind, a virtue only virtuous in the eyes of those tactless enough to practice it. I’m talking about how we live, especially how we present ourselves to other people. To what extent should transparency characterize our lives? Here’s the answer I’m inclined toward: more than it usually does.

We all appreciate authenticity in others, and most of us value it as an abstract virtue. But it seems that we all tend more toward secrecy than openness, at least in areas or with people that really matter. It’s like a gloomy gravity of the soul, this pull toward isolation that is universal among us. And since we weren’t made to be alone, we hate it. But often our drift apart is so subtle and happens at such a deep level in our soul, we can’t even put our finger on the problem. Sometimes our whole life just feels wrong, even though most what we can see (family, career, etc.) looks like it should make us pretty happy.

Perhaps this partly explains the burgeoning phenomenon of internet friendships: a feeling of community without the risks of authenticity. I have heard that genuine friendships really can be formed on the Web, and so I don’t want to speak in universal terms here. But I can’t help but suspect that the internet offers an environment that fosters an insincere and contrived kind of connectedness, a mere shadow of the real thing our hearts were made to know. It seems like it would be far too easy to hide the most painful, embarrassing parts of ourselves and thus to forfeit the sense of community that comes from true authenticity. Or, when we’ve been totally honest about who we are, we can just disregard the more critical responses from our internet “friends,” because they don’t really matter to us anyway.

Anyway, as I’ve already implied, I think authenticity is vital because genuine community is impossible without it, and we were made to be in community with other people. One of the most significant parts of the Creation story is what it teaches us about how our souls work. It’s a really cool story, too. God creates Adam and gives him his marching orders: have lots of kids, manage the creation, watch out for that one tree. For the earliest hours of human existence though, Adam is entirely on his own. God comments on the problem first: “It is not good for this guy to be alone.” But before He brings Eve along, He gives Adam his first creation-management responsibility: name all the animals. As every species of bird and critter saunters by, Adam comes up with a label that fits: “OK, those are hyenas. Um… we’ll call you guys ‘elephants.’ Those really slow ones are sloths.” Here’s the actual account from the Bible: “The man gave names to all livestock and to the birds of the heavens and to every beast of the field. But for Adam there was not found a helper fit for him.” (Gen 2:20)

Did you notice that last sentence? It’s significant. “For Adam there was not found a helper fit for him.” Since God already commented on that point a couple verses earlier, I think this verse describes Adam’s realization of it. Remember that thing about naming all the animals? Imagine the scene. Adam has seen every critter in the garden, and every one of them trotted or slithered or soared or crawled by... in couples! Every animal had a companion, a perfect match. And so he’s like, “Dude! Where’s mine?” One nap later, he’s laying eyes on Eve for the first time. Isn’t it awesome that the first recorded human words are a love poem?! He sings out: “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.” (Gen 2:23)

Interestingly, medieval art depicting the Fall has Adam on one side of the tree with Eve on the other. It’s a poignant illustration of the isolation sin always causes. God created us to be in open, honest relationships; Satan seeks to get us hidden and alone. In fact, even God isn’t secret in any of His ways since He exists eternally as three persons in one. Nothing hidden; perfect community. Maybe the doctrine of the Trinity actually has some application to our lives after all!

Listen to this evaluation from author and Christian counselor Larry Crabb: “I have come to believe that the root of all our personal and emotional difficulties is a lack of togetherness, a failure to connect that keeps us from receiving life and prevents the life in us from spilling over onto others. I therefore believe that the surest route to overcoming problems and becoming the people we were meant to be is reconnecting with God and with our community.” (Connecting) Those are some pretty lofty promises, but I’m coming to believe that he just might be correct.

To what extent should transparency characterize our lives? More than it usually does. Take a hard look at your own life. How much energy do you exert maintaining a façade? Do you have secrets that you’d be mortified for your most respected friends to learn? Are you two or three or four different people, depending on where you are and who you’re with? Does anyone know the real you?

When I saw The Incredibles a few months back, I pondered what superpowers I would like to have. I have a hard time narrowing down the list, but I can promise you one ability that I don’t think any one of us needs: invisibility.

Want to be what God intended? Get real.

A Little Target Practice of My Own

2005-01-02T14:14:00.000-07:00

My Resolutions for 2005

OK, I’ve decided to do it. I’m going to go public with my goals for 2005. (Yes, I’m aware that it’s doubtful whether the small readership of this blog can truly be considered “public,” but what else could I say?) Here they are…

1. To orient my heart to Christ’s approval as the strongest and highest motivation for all I do, especially over against approval from others.
2. To demonstrate such a pattern of consistency in prayer in daily life and such a quickness in resorting to prayer in times of need that could truly be called devotion to prayer.
3. To develop a rhythm (2x per week is my tentative goal) of exciting and effective discussions with my two oldest boys to ground them in the fundamental beliefs and practices of the Christian faith.
4. To respect others’ time more by beginning and ending events under my control at the appointed or published times.

That’s it; just four. Every other area of my life is under perfect control. NOT! I have a whole lot of areas beyond just these four that could use some attention. I just don’t want to bite off more than I can chew, and these four are the greatest priorities in my heart right now.

So, why did I put my goals out here for you to read? Three reasons:

I want to demonstrate to you that I don’t just dispense advice without attempting to live by it myself. I’ve encouraged you to set goals for this year, and I want you to know that I’ve done it, too.
I welcome the accountability that publishing these goals creates for me. It helps me combat the laziness and indifference that inevitably set in after a couple months. After all, God designed the Christian life to be lived in community right alongside fellow strugglers, but the benefits of walking together come only when we walk with transparency and openness. By the way, this means that you can feel free to email or call or talk to me anytime you want about any of these goals. It’s open season, and you have all the ammo.
I’m hoping you’ll do the same thing. See that little blue hyperlink “# comments” down there? I want you to use it. I want you to go public with your own resolutions for 2005, at least the ones that aren’t too private. Don’t worry about your grammar or writing style; write however you want. But please write something. I know there are at least a few regular readers out there, most of whom don’t comment. That’s usually perfectly OK with me, but just this once I’m asking you to be brave and go for it. Thanks!

"Crossing" Off Another Year

2005-01-01T12:40:00.000-07:00

My Major Lesson from 2004

For me, 2004 was a year defined by relearning the gospel. Its bearing, not its meaning. Its importance in my daily life, not only at the Judgment Day. Its crucial role in my day-to-day Christian life, not just its role as the entry point to my Christian life. The defining lesson of 2004 was this: I need the cross, the gospel of Jesus Christ every single moment of every single day.

What do I mean by “the gospel”? Simply this: God sent His Son into the world to live a perfect life and die an atoning death for sinners like you and me. Jesus Christ, holy (and wholly) God, absorbed the unrestrained fury of God’s wrath against us so that you and I, rebellious sinners, could enjoy the unreserved benefits of God’s pleasure in Him.

Through the eye-opening work of the Holy Spirit in His word, the help of several authors, and the fellowship of several close friends, I am learning to live the gospel every day. I’m learning what Jerry Bridges meant when he wrote: “Your worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God’s grace. And you best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God’s grace.” (The Discipline of Grace)

Here are some areas I’m learning to live the gospel:

Relating to God. The gospel frees us from emotion-driven concern about whether we feel close to God by explaining that Jesus truly has brought us close to Him. When we really understand the gospel, we are released from the fruitless struggle to earn God’s favor with our goodness and the contstant tendency to despair because of our failures.
Relating to others. The gospel allows us to be who we really are—no secrets, no façade, no desire to impress—with the people we know; after all, Jesus already knows about all our crud and He’s taken care of it. The gospel also causes us to take our sin against others seriously—no rationalizing, no blame shifting, no minimizing; after all, the perfect Son of God had to die to atone for it. And the gospel opens the way for us to forgive their sins against us, since our sin against God will never match what someone else could do to us.
Reading the Bible. The entire Bible is the story of God’s pursuit of His people—the gospel. Everywhere we read, we should look for pointers to or illustrations of or implications from the gospel.

Casting Crowns’ song “Who Am I?” was the soundtrack of my life in 2004. It seems to have been playing, either audibly or in my mind, at each major experience over the last 12 months. I love the carefully crafted poetry, the God-exalting images, the way the music affects my entire person (heart, mind, body), everything. But what makes the whole song for me is Mark Hall’s answer to the question he poses in the title: “You've told me who I am/I am Yours.” I love that! The question isn’t really “who am I?”; it’s “whose am I?” The gospel tells me that what defines me, the essential answer to the question “who am I?”, is quite simply that I am God’s. No matter what else might be true about me, that’s the main thing. Who am I? Because of the cross, I’m God’s. And that’s the gospel.

Firing First and Painting Later

2004-12-29T17:13:00.000-07:00

A Call for Sharpshooters in 2005

You might not realize it, but there are two approaches to expert marksmanship. The first is to train the crosshairs on the exact center of the target, take a deep breath, exhale about halfway and hold it, and slowly squeeze the shot off, holding your aim steady on the bull’s-eye the entire time. The second approach is to forget all that disciplined skill and just shoot the rifle. Then, you just go paint a target around the spot where the slug leaves a hole. Pretty simple, huh?

Wait a second… You don’t believe me? You don't think that second approach would be accepted as “expert marksmanship”?! Well, you’re right. That’s not how sharpshooters are made—by firing first and painting later.

But sometimes that’s how we live our lives, isn’t it? We don’t really aim for much; we just do what comes naturally and then see where we end up. How strange! And how unbiblical!

Ever notice how many people in the Bible purposed to live a certain way or aim for a specific goal? “Daniel resolved that he would not defile himself with the king's food, or with the wine that he drank.” (Dan 1:8). “I have made a covenant with my eyes; how then could I gaze at a virgin?” (Job 31:1) Even Paul himself: “I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil 3:14). These people are sharpshooters! They have an intended target, and they are aiming directly at it.

So here we are, on the brink of a brand new year. Hmmm… I wonder where we’ll be when the holidays roll around again. Will we be more faithful in our devotions? Will we have talked to anyone about Jesus? Will we know God better through prayer and meditation on His word? Will we have given Him our best every day, or will we give only enough to get by?

Here’s what I’d like to suggest… Take the next couple days and evaluate your life—spiritually, socially, educationally, etc. Pray a lot. Think hard. Then write down a few specific “targets” you’re going to aim at during this new year.

After you write down your goals, do one more thing. Read over and pray about them at least weekly. In reviewing them this often, we’ll be following the great example of Jonathan Edwards, who used to read his list of personal resolutions weekly, too (a list that grew to 70 goals by the time he finished!).

Let’s aim for something significant this year, OK? No more firing first and painting later!

Defined by the Details

2004-12-21T20:22:00.000-07:00

What the Birth of Jesus Says About You

The trimmings of the season were all around me during my devotions this morning: the massive Christmas tree next to my oversized chair, the glow from the seasonal lights over the fireplace reflecting off the pages of my Bible, mellow carols quietly playing on the stereo in the next room. It seemed a strange setting in which to read the passion narrative, but since that’s where my Bible reading plan has me this time of year, that’s what I read—John 19:16-42.

Surrounded by all these reminders of the birth of Christ, I read and pondered John’s description of the death of Christ. All at once I was struck by the parallel details in the two accounts, similarities I had never put together before. Here’s what I saw…

Both are marked by stunning humiliation. The humiliations of His birth—the social status of His family, the tedious journey to Bethlehem, the rejection at the inn, the manger-bed—these details seem warm and wonderful to us now, all wrapped up in the packaging of Christmas as they are; but they are still humiliations nonetheless. Those of His death are equally well known to us—the nakedness and mockery, the accompaniment by known criminals, the abandonment by His closest friends, the absolute disgrace of execution by crucifixion.

Both offer a special notification to others about who Jesus was. At Christ’s birth the special announcement came to the shepherds via the angels. At His death it was via a sarcastic sign posted above His head by Pontius Pilate.

Both are accented by a high concentration of fulfilled prophecies. The prophesies surrounding His birth (His name, the virginity of His mother, the location in Bethlehem, etc.) and those surrounding His death (the dividing of His garments, His thirst, the piecing of His hands and feet and side, His burial in a borrowed tomb, etc.) make these two periods the most prophesy-intensive of His entire life.

Finally, both offer unusual details about how He was clothed and where He was laid. At both His birth and His death He was wrapped in linen cloths, a peculiar little detail that has always made me curious about why the biblical authors felt inclined to include it. In addition, both accounts are careful, for whatever reason, to tell us exactly where He was laid: in a manger at His birth and in a friend’s tomb at His death.

So what’s the point of it all? Here’s what I think… It seems to me that these details are little hints that we ought to see the birth of Christ in light of the death of Christ. The romantic details of Bethlehem foreshadow the horrific details of Golgotha. In other words, we miss the point of Christ’s birth if we don’t recognize the point of His death.

But just in case we miss these subtle details, there is explicit evidence right in the birth narratives that this event points directly to the cross. For example, the angels told the shepherds that the one born in Bethlehem was “a Savior” (Lk 2:11). And the song sung by the angel choir pointed toward our forgiveness when they sang: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” (Lk 2:14) Simeon’s prophecy also foreshadowed the crucifixion when he told Mary: “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.” (Lk 2:34-35) Clearly, Christ’s birth cannot be separated from His death.

One more point about these similarities between the manger and the cross… Though these details come in similar form at Christ’s birth and at His death, they have directly opposite effects on some people. Some, like the shepherds, receive the announcement of the angels with gladness, but they also, like the Jews, receive the declaration of Pilate’s sign with derision. Some who love the humiliation of His birth scoff at the humiliation of His death. Some who find the linen wrappings around the babe in the manger to be irresistibly romantic also find the burial shroud around the corpse in the tomb to be irreparably repulsive.

So what does all this say about you? These parallels are meant to forge an unbreakable link between Christ’s birth and His death. Do you rejoice at His birth but scoff at His death? Or do you worship at His birth precisely because it points you to His death? How do the details define you?

Oversight or Insight?

2004-12-15T20:03:00.000-07:00

Looking Carefully at a “Mistake” in the Bible

In reading through Matthew’s account of Jesus’ birth recently, I noticed what appeared to be an embarrassing mistake he made in applying a verse from Isaiah to Jesus’ birth. Here’s the passage:

Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly. But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, "Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: "Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel" (which means, God with us). Mt 1:18-23

Did you see the mistake? It’s in the names. Look closely. The angel says “you shall call his name Jesus” but Isaiah’s prophecy says, “they shall call his name Immanuel.” And to make matters worse, Matthew clearly says, “All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken…” If he hadn’t been quite so broad, we might have been able to slip off the hook by arguing that he was only talking about the “born of a virgin” part and not the names part. But he had to go and use that word “all.” Hmmm…

So I pondered and prayed and reread the verses, and then I think I found the answer. It’s in the tiny word “for”—the one followed by the clause “he will save his people from their sins.” But before I explain how that one word solves the problem, we need to think for just a moment about the two names themselves.

Matthew defines the name Immanuel for us right in the verse: “God with us.” The meaning of “Jesus” isn’t quite as explicit, though it is implied. Just like the Hebrew name Joshua, Jesus means “Jehovah saves.”

When the angel told Joseph to name his son Jesus, he was choosing a name that declares the exclusive position of Jehovah as the only savior of His people. But remarkably, he follows the name immediately with “FOR he will save his people from their sins.” In effect, the angel says: “Name your son ‘Jehovah saves,’ because he’s going to save you.” Apparently, this baby is going to do something that previously was done by Jehovah Himself: save His people. The point is unmistakable: this baby must be God!

Thus, when Matthew saw in Isaiah 7:14 that the virgin’s baby was called Immanuel—“God with us,” he saw the perfect fulfillment in the angel’s announcement to Joseph. Since only God can save His people, and since this baby is going to be named “Jehovah saves” precisely because he (the baby) will save His people from their sins, this baby must be God. To say that this infant will be our Savior is just another way of saying that this baby is God with us!

And then, instead of criticizing Matthew for his careless oversight, I was thanking God for his profound insight. Like John Piper says, “Raking is easy, but all you get is leaves. Digging is hard, but sometimes you find diamonds.” Thanks, Matthew, for the Christmas diamond!

From Devastation to Elation

2004-12-09T04:51:00.000-07:00

The Journey Back to God

OK, so it’s last Friday, and I am utterly collapsing (or so it feels to me…) under the cumulative weight of a dozen different problems that have added up to become one gargantuan spiritual crisis. Everywhere I turn, things look disastrous: my relationships are in ruins, my responsibilities are overwhelming, my resources are spent, blah blah blah. Fast-forward three days to Monday, and it’s hardly recognizable as the same life. There, see me? Yep, I’m the dude whistling as he trots up the sidewalk to the office. Life is goood! Why the drastic change? Well, it was a combination of causes…

First, I got in the word, because I know that “the law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul” (Ps 19:7). Moses said it just like I experience it: “it is no empty word for you, but your very life” (Dt. 32:47). If I don’t get in the word when I’m struggling, I’m dead! In fact, most of my struggles start precisely because I’ve been neglecting the word.

Second, people got in my face. Well, not just “people”…rather, people who know me well and love me anyway. And with their God-centered words and God-filled lives, they brought me back to a Godward orientation. Not all of what they said was fun to hear, but I guess that’s because salt usually stings as it cleanses: “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt” (Col 4:6).

Third, I surrendered. God had been asking for something, I knew it, and I just wasn’t going there. And so that lead-balloon feeling in my gut began to intensify. I resisted pretty well until the steel girders of my soul—hope and joy and peace—were twisting and cracking from the stress. The inexpressible relief and buoyant feeling when I finally surrendered was like… well, (to alter the image a bit) it was kind of like the pleasure you get when you finally stop smashing your thumb with a hammer.

And fourth, I worshipped. Psalm 73 provides one of my favorite biblical illustrations of the stabilizing power of glimpsing God in worship. Asaph’s soul is reeling from doubt and confusion in the first half of the Psalm, but in the last half he’s all fixed up. The change comes in verses 16-17: “when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God…” And what was significant about entering the sanctuary? It’s where Asaph saw God.

Seeing God has a wonderful way of reorienting your soul. It’s like dropping a massive ballast into the bottom of a tipping ship or drawing all the planets into orbit around the sun (both analogies from John Piper). In fact, I would argue that glimpsing God is at the heart of every one of these corrective influences in my life: the word reveals God, people communicate God, surrender opens the heart to God, worship unveils God…

And so what I conclude from all of this is that the “gargantuan spiritual crisis” of Friday was fundamentally a shortage of God in my life. And that’s the basis for my appeal to you. If you read the description of my Friday and said, “Yep, that’s me,” then take that as a little “heads up” that, in one way or another, you need more of God. So get in the word, talk to your wisest friends, surrender what He’s calling for, worship, or whatever—whatever it takes to reorient your life with God at the center.

So why not get going on your journey back to God? One more thing… For those of you who feel like you have too far to go and you doubt whether you can make it, here’s a promise to spark your hope and steel your resolve: “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). Can’t beat that for a little assistance along the way!

Standing (and Falling) on Grace

2004-12-06T08:35:00.000-07:00

Finding Hope in Being Normal

Am I the only one whose Christian life tends to run in a cycle—up, then down, then back up again? Usually it’s not extreme Jekyll and Hyde shifts here, like some out-of-control rollercoaster ride of the soul. But my desire for God and joy in God definitely ebb and flow. Sometimes a lot. Even my best weeks are hardly a steady climb up the “Jacob’s Ladder” of spiritual bliss.

Chances are, most of you know what I’m talking about. For example, last Friday God seemed light years away, and life was excruciating. Today, life is sweet. I know exactly what caused the change, and when I have an opportunity to write more I’ll explain it and also offer some practical advice for what to do when you’re down. But today, let’s just be encouraged knowing that we’re not the only Christian who faces ups and downs along the way. For example, John Piper writes: “Normal Christian life is a repeated process of restoration and renewal. Our joy is not static. It fluctuates with real life.” (Desiring God)

And Charles Spurgeon wrote from his own experience when he penned: “Fits of depression come over the most of us. Usually cheerful as we may be, we must at intervals be cast down. The strong are not always vigorous, the wise not always ready, the brave not always courageous, and the joyous not always happy.” And lest we think only spiritual weaklings struggle this way, he gives us a great historical example: “The life of Luther might suffice to give a thousand instances, and he was by no means of the weaker sort. His great spirit was often in the seventh heaven of exultation, and as frequently on the borders of despair.” (Lectures to My Students)

The Bible recognizes this struggle, too. “The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul” (Ps 19:7). If all is well all the time, who needs reviving? Even David struggled from time to time, for he wrote: “He restores my soul” (Ps 23:3). Apparently even the man after God’s own heart had bad days.

So what should we do about the fickleness of our own heart? Well, like I mentioned above, I’ll give some more advice in future posts, but for now, here are two thoughts to keep in mind. First, recognize that what you’re experiencing is pretty normal. Strive to stand, but don’t feel like you’re all alone when you fall! Second, whether you’re up or down, realize that grace is your only hope. When we stand, we stand on grace; and when we fall, we fall on grace.

I think the late songwriter Rich Mullins drew a pretty good bead on how to view the ups and downs of life when he sang:

If I stand, let me stand on the promise that you will pull me through
And if I can’t, let me fall on the grace that first brought me to you
And if I sing, let me sing for the joy that has born in me these songs
And if I weep, let it be as a man who is longing for his home.

The Incredibles, Real-Life Style

2004-11-29T11:28:00.000-07:00

Our Dependence on Lives Well Lived

One of our church members turned 100 years old today. Her body is frail, but her mind is still as sharp as ever. Best of all, though, is the condition of her soul. For longer than most of us will even live, she has seen and loved and walked with Jesus Christ, and her spiritual legacy abounds with family members and friends whose souls will forever bear her God-bearing fingerprints. The Apostle John gave us a great way to pray for her: “Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well” (3 Jn 1:2).

Her life reminds me of the biblical mandate to have heroes. Not heroes who mean more to us than Jesus, but heroes who give us inspiration and vision and direction by their devotion and discipline, their accomplishments and aspirations, their flaws and failures. And yes, I do think having heroes is not an option; it’s a biblical mandate!

This is implied in the way Scripture is written—most of it is narrative. Apparently, we need more than just the truth in abstract form; we need to see it lived, breathed, broken, loved. “God loved the world” doesn’t hit us with quite the same force as the picture of Jesus weeping at the tomb of Lazarus (Jn 11:35). Kind of like reality TV (which, of course, is hardly deserving of the name), we crave glimpses of real lives. We need heroes.

The writer of Hebrews makes this explicit when he says: “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith.” (13:7) This exhortation comes just a few paragraphs after he has named a dozen heroes (11:4-40) and used their lives as an argument for how we ourselves should live (12:1-2).

So here’s my suggestion to you. Sometime in the next few months, read a biography of a great Christian. Implied in this suggestion is one of the criteria I use to select my own heroes: pick somebody who’s dead. Hebrews 13:7 advises us to “consider the outcome of their way of life,” which we can’t quite measure until they’re finished living it. So save yourself the devastation of a fallen hero by restricting your “hero” category to dead dudes only. Or at least pick heroes you can be sure about because they’ve lived faithfully for the last 100 years!

Glimpses of God in the Raking of Leaves

2004-11-17T11:25:00.000-07:00

Pondering God’s Glory in Fall Yard Work

Yesterday I finished my annual leaf-raking marathon. We have 3 gargantuan trees in our yard, and our neighbors all have several of their own, which means we relax under great shade in the summer and swim in an ocean of fallen leaves in the fall. We love our trees, but when the sap stops flowing in October or November, we start raking and don’t stop for weeks.

I took a little break yesterday to make a phone call to a couple God-centered young ladies and that’s when the question came: “What of God do you see in leaf-raking?” Hmmm… what a strange question! But it’s the right one to ask, because after all, everything in life exists to bring glory to God. So we should probably consciously consider “What do I learn or see or remember of God in this?” in every single thing we do, learn, see, experience, feel…

How is leaf raking a means to see and savor the glory of God? I came up with 2 answers. First, leaf raking reminds me that everyone has God’s fingerprints all over his/her soul. Everyone, both God-fearers and God-haters, tends to prefer order rather than disorder. A well-tended lawn reminds me of God’s command to our first parents: “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth” (Gen 1:28). Why are we this way? Because God is this way, and He created us as a reflection Himself. When your neighbor rakes his leaves, he’s showing the family likeness.

Second, leaf raking reminds me that my heart longs for God and God alone. A few months ago these leaves were a beautiful accent to those gorgeous summer days, but now they’re withered and dry. And once again we’re reminded that all the beauties and joys of earth are transient, fleeting, and contingent. The very temporariness of a leaf’s life reminds us that, not all the splendor of earth, but God Himself is the desire of our soul.

Here’s the application to you… Don’t take a break from what you’re doing to think about God. Ponder Him right there in the midst of whatever you’re doing. Discover God right there in your math homework, your daily commute, your relational issues, the news, the weather, whatever. Your job isn’t to bring Him into these things; He’s there already. Your job is just to see Him there!

So next time you’re raking leaves, look for God. Make your own backyard a place of worship and make the leaves themselves holy articles for seeing and savoring God Himself. Still skeptical that tree leaves can be quite that edifying? Well then, you might need a new glimpse of heaven, where “on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yields its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations” (Rev 22:2).

A Sheep in Need of The Shepherd

2004-11-14T20:18:00.000-07:00

A Devotional Journal Entry

I came to the Bible tonight with my cup bone-dry, weary of life and longing for God. I’m a pastor, but tonight I felt more like a sheep than a shepherd. In fact, that very metaphor was simmering on the back burner of my mind, since I had encountered it twice in the last 24 hours: praying through Psalm 23 last night with an anxious church member and meditating on Isaiah 53 this morning during Communion.

My Bible reading schedule has me in Ezekiel right now, and so my expectations were shamefully low. I kind of assumed I’d read the obligatory chapters and then move on to a more helpful portion of Scripture in my quest to hear the gentle voice and feel the tender touch of my Shepherd. And then I came to the middle of chapter 34…

"For thus says the Lord GOD: Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. And I will bring them out from the peoples and gather them from the countries, and will bring them into their own land. And I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the ravines, and in all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them with good pasture, and on the mountain heights of Israel shall be their grazing land. There they shall lie down in good grazing land, and on rich pasture they shall feed on the mountains of Israel. I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord GOD. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak…”

I was stunned to hear the Lord God taking the words of Psalm 23 on His own lips and saying them to me: “I myself will search for my sheep… I will bring them out… I will feed them with good pasture… I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep… I myself will make them lie down… I will seek… I will bring back… I will bind… I will strengthen…” And suddenly I was there, hearing His voice, finding good pasture, quenching my thirst…

But Now I See…

2004-11-11T21:53:00.000-07:00

Seeing Christianity as a Certain Way of Seeing

I’m nearly convinced that the main struggle in all the Christian life is the struggle to see. Not “to see” in the sense of light waves and optic nerves and brain sensations. “To see” in the sense that Jesus meant: “For this people's heart has grown dull, and with their ears they can barely hear, and their eyes they have closed, lest they should see with their eyes and hear with their ears and understand with their heart and turn, and I would heal them. But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear.” (Mt 13:15-16)

This language of seeing is all over the place in the Bible. Why are certain people Christians and others not? Because in the latter case, “the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God” (2 Cor 4:4). How are people changed into the image of Jesus Christ? By “beholding the glory of the Lord, [thus] being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor 3:18). What motivates us to endure suffering? The eyesight of Moses, who “endured as seeing him who is invisible” (Heb 11:27).

I doubt if we would be so flippant about how we spend our days if we could see that life is a vapor (James 4:14). I doubt if we would sin so quickly if we could see the deadly poison underneath the candy coating of temptation (James 1:14-16). I doubt if we would be so attached to earth and so apathetic about heaven if we could see the ugliness here compared with the magnificence there (Rev 21:10-27). I doubt if we would treat people with such condescension and disdain if we could see that the priceless blood of Jesus flowed for their forgiveness (Rom 14:15). I doubt if we would be so casual about poor study habits and low grades if we could see that even the way we eat and drink reflects what we think of God (1 Cor 10:31).

So I conclude that another way to describe true Christianity is that it is a certain way of seeing. If you’re not a Christian, ask God to help you see. If you are one, pray and strive and train yourself to see what you really see. In short, Christian living is Christian seeing. Perhaps John Newton was right in more ways than one when he described his conversion: “I once was lost but now am found/Was blind but now I see.”

Seizing the Day vs. Brushing Your Teeth

2004-11-04T07:56:00.000-07:00

Living with Passion AND Responsibility

I don’t know if you caught it in the last post, but Jonathan Edwards really raises the bar on what carpe diem means in practical terms. Resolution #7 reads: “Resolved, never to do anything, which I should be afraid to do, if it were the last hour of my life.” Now that proposition should stir us up to some really serious thinking…

How many of my normal responsibilities would I do if I knew it were the last hour of my life? Would I write this post? …sleep? …brush my teeth? Probably not. And so the tension emerges: how do I reconcile responsible living with passionate living? Am I forced to choose either “be responsible” or “seize the day” as my philosophy of life?

Some might say we ought to find a balance between the two options. They would argue that sometimes we “seize the day” and other times we just do what we have to do. But I don’t like that answer for two reasons. First, it’s subjective, leaving me without a way to tell if I’m balancing the two ideals correctly. There’s no way to tell if I’m too reckless (seizing the day) or too conservative (being responsible).

Second, it leaves most people right where they started, comfortable with their nonchalant, passionless approach to life. If we resolve the tension of Edwards’ resolution by saying, “Well, you can live that way only sometimes, not all the time,” most people will breathe a sigh of relief and flip the TV back on for the rest of the night.

So here’s the solution that I would propose. We need to take a longer view of “seize the day” than just what it means for me right this moment. In other words, we need to keep tomorrow in mind when we ponder how to seize the day today. We might forfeit opportunities to seize the day tomorrow if we don’t seize the day in a certain way today.

For example, I would love to skydive and feel the explosive adrenaline rush of freefalling for several thousand feet. So I carry that little desire with me for what “seize the day” means for me: skydiving first chance I get. But what if I’m standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon someday and “seize the day” comes to mind? Do I have to choose responsible living over passionate living? Do I say either "yes" to my desire (passion) or "yes" to living for another day (responsibility)? Nope. I just need to be more careful about how I define “seizing the day,” realizing that I might have an opportunity to freefall for several thousand feet AND live to tell about it sometime in the future.

So here’s the application to you… If you’re a student, seize the day by studying with all your might so as to maximize your opportunities in the future. If you’re an employee, work with all your might for the same reason. If you’re a parent, disciple and train and pray with all your might so as to maximize both your own and your children’s opportunities in the future. If you’re a Christian, know and make known Jesus Christ with tomorrow in view. If you’re not a Christian, consider well how you seize the day, realizing that your own eternal joy is at stake.

No matter who you are, take Jonathan Edwards’ resolution as your own for every day and everything you do: “I will never to do anything which I should be afraid to do if it were the last hour of my life.” Wow. What kind of people would we be if we really lived that way?!

Live Like You Were Dying

2004-11-02T12:32:00.000-07:00

Is Carpe Diem a Biblical Way to Live?

Occasionally pop culture produces something that echoes the voice of God Himself. Often the voice of God is so mingled with “non-God” voices that the biblical value is nearly eclipsed by the unbiblical ones. But occasionally pop culture produces an echo of God’s voice that is so loud and so true, the biblical value can’t be missed.

About a month ago I heard Tim McGraw’s “Live Like You Were Dying.” The point of the song is obvious: life is precious; don’t waste it! It reminded me of the movie Dead Poet’s Society, with its compelling theme: Carpe diem! (“Seize the day!”) The song and the movie both inspire us to live with passion, to seize every opportunity, to squeeze every drop of living we can out of life! In our greatest dreams, we long for a life marked by fervor and intensity and exhilaration. Our souls resonate with Thoreau’s fear: “not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived” (Walden).

But does this approach to life find its original expression in the Bible? Are Tim McGraw and Professor Keating (Dead Poet’s Society) and Henry David Thoreau echoing the truth of God when they implore us to live with all our might?

Jonathan Edwards thought so. In his late teens he developed a list of personal resolutions that guided and motivated him for the rest of his life. Resolutions 5-7 read like this: “Resolved, never to lose one moment of time; but improve it the most profitable way I possibly can. Resolved, to live with all my might, while I do live. Resolved, never to do anything, which I should be afraid to do, if it were the last hour of my life.”

As we would expect, Edwards’ philosophy of life is spelled out explicitly in the Bible. “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart” (Col 3:23). “Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity…” (Eph 5:15-16; cf. Col 4:5). “What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins” (James 4:14,17). Apparently, half-hearted living is not a biblical option!

So I want to add my voice to God’s and Edwards’ and all those from the culture and say to you: “LIVE!!” Don’t fritter away your precious life on video games, surfing the web, plodding through malls, or watching TV. Live!

I want to wrap up with a few suggestions for how to “seize the day!”
· Realize that wasted hours become wasted days, which become wasted months, which become wasted years, which become a wasted life. So start seizing the day by seizing each hour.
· Take every opportunity you can. Realize that today is a gift and tomorrow is not guaranteed. You might never get this chance again. So do it now!
· Cultivate a sense of wonder and originality in how you look at life. When other people see a homeless bum, consider whether you might have just seen an angel (cf. Heb 13:2).
· Find something worthy—some cause, some person, some mission, and devote your entire life to it. I would argue that the best choice here would be knowing and making known Jesus Christ.

So what are you reading this blog for? Go LIVE!!

Smiling on the Inside? Part 2

2004-10-28T11:17:00.002-06:00

Sustaining Joy in a Joyless World

“Is ‘joy in Christ’ naïve in a world where there are so many problems, issues, sins?” The question came in an email from a friend of mine who is confronted nearly every day with some of life’s most agonizing struggles.

In the previous post I argue that our answer must not deal with the question superficially by separating joy and happiness so we can then say, “Well, we can be joyful on the inside even though the problems in our world make us sad outwardly.” I believe joy and happiness are, biblically and practically, virtually the same. Their connotations are slightly different, but they are too similar for us to distinguish between them in our own heart. We’re either happy AND joyful, or we’re not. We can’t be joyful but not happy.

So how do we sustain true joy in a world filled with incredible pain? I think the answer is in how we see. Sustaining joy in a joyless world requires a certain kind of seeing… eyes that behold things that others might not… a panoramic perspective that beholds the entire tapestry—dark threads of pain in their complementary place alongside the brighter colors of pleasure. In short, we need the “eyes of eternity.”

We need eyes like John Newton, who sees our present suffering in light of our future glory: "Suppose a man was going to York to take possession of a large estate, and his [carriage] should break down a mile before he got to the city, which obliged him to walk the rest of the way; what a fool we should think him, if we saw him ringing his hands, and blubbering out all the remaining mile, ‘My [carriage] is broken! My [carriage] is broken!’" (Works, volume 1)

Or we need eyes like Peter, who writes: “to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing, so that also at the revelation of His glory you may rejoice with exultation” (1 Pt 4:13).

In other words, we find and sustain joy in a joyless world by seeing all the horrible pain in light of heaven. Our full redemption is coming! The cross conquered sin and pain and death and suffering! The decisive blow has already fallen. Though the world we live in still groans in agony (Rom 8:19-21), it knows that someday soon the triumph Jesus won at the cross will be ours to enjoy in its full pleasure and delight forever and ever.

We need eyes to see the world and all its pain like this! When we see life this way, our joy will be strong and enduring and real. This perspective will preserve us from a shallow, chipper triteness that masquerades as the real “joy of Christ.” Only this way of looking at the world will allow us to “weep with those who weep” (Rom 12:15), because only this perspective doesn’t see someone else’s pain as a threat to my own joy. After all, my happiness comes from heaven, not from a pain-free life on earth. Only when we see the world like this will we “go to [Jesus] outside the camp and bear the reproach he endured. For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Heb 12:13-14).

Smiling on the Inside? Part 1

2004-10-26T11:11:00.000-06:00

Sustaining Joy in a Joyless World

Life shreds thin joy. If our joy is not robust and solid, daycare shootings in Detroit and homelessness in San Francisco and beheadings in Baghdad and genocide in Sudan and AIDS orphans in South Africa will slash it to shreds in seconds. Either that or we’ll medicate ourselves against the pain by living in a fantasyland where the wretched realities of the real world can’t threaten our chipper self-centeredness. (This option, by the way, is the one most people choose by default, numbing themselves with TV, movies, music, fashion, achievement, whatever. But that’s a problem for another blog entry…)

Our world is filled with pain… and I haven’t even mentioned the everyday frustrations of hard classes, sour relationships, excessive demands—all the normal distresses of daily life even before we read the newspaper. So what can we do to sustain real happiness even with both eyes open to the horrors and heartaches of the world around us?

I think I need to divide my answer into two parts… Second, my answer. First, a few problems with what might be the traditional Christian answer.

Typically, I think Christians have tried to draw a distinction between joy and happiness, going something like this: “Happiness is a feeling, and it’s based on the circumstances outside you. Joy is a choice, and it’s based on what’s inside you.” But I think that answer fails for several reasons…

First, both happiness and joy are spontaneous and emotional. The reason some Christians try to distinguish joy from happiness is probably a sense that joy is deliberate and strong while happiness is spontaneous and superficial. But in reality, joy is not an internal disposition we can simply choose with our will; it’s a gift from God, a work of the Holy Spirit (Rom 14:17; Gal 5:22; 1 Thes 1:6). And it spontaneously erupts as a felt sense of delight in our heart, just like happiness (cf. 1 Pt 1:8).

Second, the Bible concerns itself with both our happiness and our joy. For example, “God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Cor 9:7). And “How happy are the people whose God is the Lord” (Ps 144:15; cf. Deut 33:29; Is 52:7).

Third, I don’t think we can successfully separate feelings of happiness from a sense of joy in our own soul. Even if there is a difference between happiness and joy (which I doubt), practically it’s a meaningless one because we are unable to experience the difference. How convincing is “The frown on my face is only circumstantial. Deep inside I’m quivering with enjoyment…”? People who talk this way don’t possess superior self-awareness or outstanding willpower. Nope. They're either being naive or they're lying. Joy in the heart shows up as a smile on the face. No exceptions.

So how should we answer this crucial question of maintaining joy in a joy-stealing world? Well, I’ll try to get at the answer in a day or two. But whatever we say in the meantime, let’s NOT pass over the question glibly and say with a smirk, “Well, I’m smiling on the inside.”

Inspired Ambiguity

2004-10-21T16:27:00.000-06:00

Thinking Hard About Why the Bible Requires Hard Thinking

I was chatting on the phone today with a college student who was deeply engaged in a confusing Bible study project when the question came up: “Why didn’t God write what He meant more clearly?”

At first I thought we were bordering on indicting God with a poor performance, but then I remembered the Apostle Peter expressing some of the same consternation: “There are some things in [Paul’s letters] that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures” (2 Pt 3:16). If Peter talks that way, maybe we’re correct… Some of the Bible is tough to understand! But why?

It’s a good question, because surely God has the ability to be clear when He wants to be. If deficiency is ever the problem, it’s in us, not in God! Plus, God’s entire self-revelation, His expectations for people, His plan for redemption are all revealed in a book—a book we must understand in order to obey. So you’d think He’d always speak with absolute clarity, right? Well then, why doesn’t He? (If at this point you’re not tracking with me because you think the whole Bible is perfectly clear, go read Galatians 2:15-21. Now explain it. All of it. Are we together again? Good…) So here are some reasons I think God wrote some relatively unclear stuff in His word...

First, it highlights His wisdom and our dependence when we are forced to pause, ponder, and pray. “It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings” (Pro 25:2). Hard parts in the Bible are a constant reminder that we don’t know it all, but He does.

Second, it helps us identify the truths we should feel the most strongly about, since we can reasonably assume that what God made most clear is of greatest importance. Is Jesus really God? No doubt. Bank your life (and death) on it. What music style does God prefer? Umm… well, I doubt it’s Country, but let’s not fight about it, OK?

Third, it’s a built-in reminder, even while studying the truth, of the importance of love for other Christians. If all Scripture were equally clear, all Christians would presumably believe the same things. But then who would notice our love for each other? After all, no one watches the Republican National Convention and comments: “Wow. Those people sure get along well… I wonder why?” But when Christians really love each other even in the midst of disagreement, outside observers are left wondering, “Hmmm… These people really seem to enjoy each other in spite of their disagreements. They must have a really cool God…” (cf. Jn 13:35).

The moral? Pray for God's help to know the truth. Stand up for what matters most; be gentle about the rest. And love, love, love. These are the lessons God has for us, woven right into the fabric of His sometimes hard-to-understand word. Happy hard thinking!

Running the World on Faith

2004-10-19T20:27:00.000-06:00

Pondering the Role of Faith in Politics and Life

Catching a little “Fresh Air” on NPR earlier today, I heard a most thought-provoking opinion about faith (George W. Bush’s in particular) and its political ramifications. Host Terry Gross quoted Bruce Bartlett, a former advisor for Ronald Reagan and administrative official for the elder George Bush. Bartlett opined: “The whole thing about faith is to believe things for which there is no empirical evidence, but you can’t run the world on faith.”

Hmmm… Is he right? Is faith an inadequate (perhaps even a dangerous) guide for running the world? My search for an answer goes right to the very heart of what it means to be a person created in God’s image…

I would argue that faith is an essential and irreducible component of every decision every person ever makes. Not necessarily faith in God, but belief in at least something. Why do I say that? Because the human soul is unalterably covenantal. Or another way to say it is that we are all worshippers. Or we could say we are perpetual happiness seekers.

In practical terms, this means we are constantly on the lookout for something or someone bigger than ourselves that we can make an agreement with—a covenant—expecting this thing to bless us and make us happy if we act in certain ways. Our little covenant arrangements can be formal or informal, explicit or implicit. The point is, we all make them and we all live by them all the time.

We go through life asking the question (either consciously or subconsciously): “What must I have for my life to be happy?” When we find something that we believe has the power to bless or curse us, we make a little private covenant with it, and we follow that covenantal arrangement in how we make all the decisions that follow. Ask yourself the question: What must I have to be happy? This thing is your “covenant god.”

So what does this have to do with faith? Everything. We make our covenants, we choose what/who to worship, we pursue our happiness based on what we BELIEVE. None of us has all the empirical evidence on whether our choices will turn out for our good or our bad, so we just have to choose the option that looks the best to us. It’s a matter of belief. It’s all about faith.

So back to our original question: Is George W. Bush’s faith [in the Bible’s God] an inadequate or dangerous guide for running the world? Well, considering that he has to have faith in something to make his choices, let’s answer the question with another question… If he’s going to be running the world, wouldn’t you prefer he have faith in Someone with unlimited knowledge, power, and love? Yeah, me too.

Got Stuff?

2004-10-14T21:48:00.000-06:00

Glorifying God with Our Stuff: Asceticism vs. Thankfulness

I've been pondering this question for a while now... How do we bring God the most glory with regard to our possessions? Option 1: by sacrificing and living without them (asceticism), thereby showing that He is more desirable than stuff. Option 2: by enjoying and giving thanks for them, thereby showing that He is the Benevolent Giver of all good things.

I think C. S. Lewis helped me on to a preliminary answer in a quote I read yesterday. He presents us with a third option that I hadn't even considered. He writes, "Gratitude exclaims, very properly, 'How good of God to give me this.' Adoration says, 'What must be the quality of that Being whose far-off and momentary coruscations [sparkles] are like this!' One's mind runs back up the sunbeam to the sun." (Letters to Malcolm)

In other words, Lewis argues for neither asceticism nor thankfulness as the most God-honoring approach toward our stuff. He argues for turning "stuff" into vehicles for worship! Pretty cool. Here's how I think it would work...

You pick up a couple new things at Old Navy, and you're wondering how to bring God glory in your attitude. Give them away to a homeless shelter (i.e., asceticism)? Whisper a prayer of thanks every time you look in the mirror (i.e., thanksgiving)? Nope. Instead, we should savor the moment of delight in donning our new clothes and then turn to God with: "God, I really enjoy these clothes. Thanks for allowing me to purchase them. But if clothes are this cool, how much greater must You be. I know the pleasure I find in clothes is a yawn compared to the pleasure that You Yourself afford me..." And suddenly Old Navy fades (lol) and God's glory shines.

One more thought before we abandon this strain... I think that if we can really say from our heart, "God, how much greater you are than this thing," then we'll be on the path toward sacrificing our possessions at the appropriate level. When God is our treasure, all of our stuff becomes really really expendable.

Got stuff? Want to glorify God with it? View it all as a glimmer of glory from Him, and hear Him whisper: "Not all these things, but I am the desire of your soul."