When I was at the Passion Conference this year, Andy Stanley's message may have been the most practical, most memorable message preached. It may have also been my least favorite. The power in his message was the use of three chairs, each representing one facet of human experience. The chairs represented:
What We Do Who We Know Who We Are
As he gestured to these three chairs, he continually made the point that it is a mistake to decide what we will do until we first decide who we want to be. He may have said that 20x during his message. He made his point very well, and it stuck in the minds of those who heard him.
He then used a hypothetical question in preaching that I may have heard at least as many sermons about. That is, what do you want people to say about you at your funeral? He boiled his list down to eight character traits that included such things as being Honest, Pure, and Generous (he didn't list them all). And he explained that once he had decided first who he wanted to be, that decisions about what he would do naturally followed. The prior commitment to his preferred identity formed a barrier around his decision making process.
So, what sort of person do I want to be? Well, that sounds like such a nifty question, except as one person shouted out at Passion this year during Andy's message, "What About Jesus?!?" It may well be that who I want to be and who Jesus wants me to be aren't exactly the same. If that's the case, I need structure my life and identity around His desires for my life and not my own. The character He wants to instill in me needs to be my life aim, and not following great sounding advice and motivational concepts.
I appreciate what Andy Stanley, John Maxwell, Steven Covey, Zig Ziglar, and even Joel Osteen can contribute to people's lives about breaking bad cycles and maximizing potential. But I'm not here on my mission, I'm here on His . . . until the day I die.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Cancer
There are few words that produce as strong a reaction from people as the word "cancer." Yesterday I got a call from my Dad. He has four tumors in his lung. Not the transplant lung, the other one. They showed up on a routine CAT scan -- routine because with a transplant, they have an annual checkup. These would be scary enough if it were not for a recently diagnosed and removed melanoma from his face.
Thoughout the entire conversation, I don't think either of us said the word "cancer." We said things like "tumor," "mass," "shadow," "melanoma," certainly none of them pleasant words. But I think we both intentionally would prefer not to say the "C" word. It is the Lord Voldemort of words -- that which much not be named. It is as if we give the word power by speaking it. As if the very act of pronouncing the syllables is the thing that gives life to it.
There is a sinking feeling I associate with it. A sense of dread rooted in watching others endure it. But for now, we go through the tests. All those who have had family members hear an ominous diagnosis know exactly what I'm talking about. The collision of emotion and reality here in this place tends to make other issues seem much less significant. Suddenly the other issues we thought were important pale in comparison. I find it hard to get excited about much of anything right now.
Thoughout the entire conversation, I don't think either of us said the word "cancer." We said things like "tumor," "mass," "shadow," "melanoma," certainly none of them pleasant words. But I think we both intentionally would prefer not to say the "C" word. It is the Lord Voldemort of words -- that which much not be named. It is as if we give the word power by speaking it. As if the very act of pronouncing the syllables is the thing that gives life to it.
There is a sinking feeling I associate with it. A sense of dread rooted in watching others endure it. But for now, we go through the tests. All those who have had family members hear an ominous diagnosis know exactly what I'm talking about. The collision of emotion and reality here in this place tends to make other issues seem much less significant. Suddenly the other issues we thought were important pale in comparison. I find it hard to get excited about much of anything right now.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The Dread/Satifaction Cycle
Are there things that are good for you that you just dread doing? When I was a kid, I used to dread taking a bath. I'm not sure why it seemed so awful. Perhaps it was that I had to stop playing long enough to draw the bath and actually get in. I only remember there were many battles between me and my mother over getting into the tub [as an aside, my son appears to have inherited the bath aversion gene].
But for all the opposition I put up to getting in the tub, something intriguing happened once I got in. I didn't want to get out. The very think I so dreaded ahead of time became the thing I enjoyed once I actually did it. I'm finding this is true of quite a few things in my life. Tonight I particularly noticed this about working out. I did NOT want to do my workout tonight. I came up with all sorts of excuses, procrastinated, whined -- I covered the whole gamut. But I finally did end up doing it when Ann removed my last excuse. Predicably, once I was done and showered, I felt awesome. Why is it that I so consistently resist something that makes me feel so good afterwards?
And then I thought of prayer. Perhaps there is no greater example. There is something in me (sin?) that resists prayer and solitude with God. I fight it, make up excuses why I can't take the time, and procrastinate when it comes to prayer. But inevitably any time I take the time to focus and pray, I find that it is incredibly rewarding. I feel peace and joy, and a great sense of rightness about life.
You would think seeing this pattern repeated over and over in life would make it so that the right choice would become easier and easier to make. Perhaps it is, but the difference is incremental, not dramatic. May God give us the grace to respond to His initiative so we can experience the intimacy He desires in our relationship with Him.
But for all the opposition I put up to getting in the tub, something intriguing happened once I got in. I didn't want to get out. The very think I so dreaded ahead of time became the thing I enjoyed once I actually did it. I'm finding this is true of quite a few things in my life. Tonight I particularly noticed this about working out. I did NOT want to do my workout tonight. I came up with all sorts of excuses, procrastinated, whined -- I covered the whole gamut. But I finally did end up doing it when Ann removed my last excuse. Predicably, once I was done and showered, I felt awesome. Why is it that I so consistently resist something that makes me feel so good afterwards?
And then I thought of prayer. Perhaps there is no greater example. There is something in me (sin?) that resists prayer and solitude with God. I fight it, make up excuses why I can't take the time, and procrastinate when it comes to prayer. But inevitably any time I take the time to focus and pray, I find that it is incredibly rewarding. I feel peace and joy, and a great sense of rightness about life.
You would think seeing this pattern repeated over and over in life would make it so that the right choice would become easier and easier to make. Perhaps it is, but the difference is incremental, not dramatic. May God give us the grace to respond to His initiative so we can experience the intimacy He desires in our relationship with Him.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Now What?
Have you ever had a "now what?" season of life? This is when you've been waiting for something (good or bad) for a while and the deadline passes. You've received what you were waiting for, you got the news you'd been anticipating. And now you're sitting on a lack of anticipation or motivation.
I'm not saying that's an entirely accurate description of where I am right now, but I am witnessing some transitions and turnover around me that do leave me wondering what will happen next. The moments I'm seeing right now are neither dreadful nor magnificent. They just leave me with a sense of ambivalence.
Perhaps these moments are a sort of preparation or an anticipation. We can't live on the edge of our seats all the time. And sometimes NOT being so focused on something we think may soon happen gives our minds a bit of a break from the constant tension of leaning forward into the next moment.
I hope this makes sense when I read it days or weeks down the road. But for now, I can't think of a more accurate way to reflect my current mood that to simply ask the question, "now what?"
I'm not saying that's an entirely accurate description of where I am right now, but I am witnessing some transitions and turnover around me that do leave me wondering what will happen next. The moments I'm seeing right now are neither dreadful nor magnificent. They just leave me with a sense of ambivalence.
Perhaps these moments are a sort of preparation or an anticipation. We can't live on the edge of our seats all the time. And sometimes NOT being so focused on something we think may soon happen gives our minds a bit of a break from the constant tension of leaning forward into the next moment.
I hope this makes sense when I read it days or weeks down the road. But for now, I can't think of a more accurate way to reflect my current mood that to simply ask the question, "now what?"
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Learning to Love
What have you wanted so much that you were willing to make significant personal sacrifices to make it happen? What goals have you had that you were willing to invest many hours of time in order to achieve them? Perhaps you have wanted to be really good at a sport; maybe you’ve wanted to learn how to play a musical instrument well; maybe you’ve learned how to dance? Or perhaps you’ve worked on your body? Maybe you’ve wanted to lose some weight, or gain some weight, lower your cholesterol, or get a six-pack (from muscles in your abdomen).
Most of us realize significant achievements require time, effort, and sacrifice. Those who do exceptionally well are often willing to make extraordinary sacrifices to achieve their goals. They have followed specific diets, they have disciplined their bodies with exercise regimens, they have gone to band or sports camps. They have practiced, even when they really didn’t want to. They have pushed themselves to try, even when they didn’t feel well. They have joined health clubs – and actually used their memberships!
If you have been willing to devote yourself with consistency to achieving any goals like this, you have found the paradox of freedom. This is the truth that the path to freedom is discovered through the exercise of discipline. When we choose to limit ourselves, we find ourselves experiencing what we’ve wanted all along. Love is also like this. When we choose to place boundaries and limits on love, we experience deeper intimacy.
A great example of this are those who are committed to honoring their vows by riding out the highs and lows of their marriage. I visited a couple in our congregation this week who have been married 62 years. In a sense, they have been bound to one another for almost their entire adult lives. Yet the intimacy and the freedom that they have experienced in the relationship has been more than worth the sacrifices they’ve made for one another.
If we want to experience deeper intimacy in our relationship with the Lord, perhaps the best way is by being disciplined. By pursuing the disciplines of the Christian life that will allow us to say "No" to me as I say "Yes" to the Lord. The more I live by the axiom, "He must increase, I must decrease," the more I will discover deeper intimacy in my relationship with my heavenly Father.
Most of us realize significant achievements require time, effort, and sacrifice. Those who do exceptionally well are often willing to make extraordinary sacrifices to achieve their goals. They have followed specific diets, they have disciplined their bodies with exercise regimens, they have gone to band or sports camps. They have practiced, even when they really didn’t want to. They have pushed themselves to try, even when they didn’t feel well. They have joined health clubs – and actually used their memberships!
If you have been willing to devote yourself with consistency to achieving any goals like this, you have found the paradox of freedom. This is the truth that the path to freedom is discovered through the exercise of discipline. When we choose to limit ourselves, we find ourselves experiencing what we’ve wanted all along. Love is also like this. When we choose to place boundaries and limits on love, we experience deeper intimacy.
A great example of this are those who are committed to honoring their vows by riding out the highs and lows of their marriage. I visited a couple in our congregation this week who have been married 62 years. In a sense, they have been bound to one another for almost their entire adult lives. Yet the intimacy and the freedom that they have experienced in the relationship has been more than worth the sacrifices they’ve made for one another.
If we want to experience deeper intimacy in our relationship with the Lord, perhaps the best way is by being disciplined. By pursuing the disciplines of the Christian life that will allow us to say "No" to me as I say "Yes" to the Lord. The more I live by the axiom, "He must increase, I must decrease," the more I will discover deeper intimacy in my relationship with my heavenly Father.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Word from God?
The other day I had a call from a friend who wanted to give me a word of warning. In the midst of their own confession and heart-wrenching experiences, they felt there were some things I needed to know. I listened and took these words to heart. Since then I've been praying and meditating over what God wanted to teach me through this.
This may be one of the most difficult things about our spiritual walk -- knowing what to do when someone else shares a revelation with you. When its not straight from scripture, it is quite subjective. There are all sorts of factors that can lead someone to share things with you. How much do you let what they are hearing and learning impact what you do? Surely it is foolish to ignore counsel. But, at the same time, what the Lord may want from you may not be exactly the same as what He wants from them.
I've been keeping my eyes and ears open to see and hear what else the Lord has to say. As I'm reading in Ezekiel, talking with other brothers and sisters, doing other devotional reading, and praying about all this -- I'm asking the Lord to remind me of the things he wants me to heed. Lord, help us not to miss the things you are teaching us. We want to know what you are saying to us. Speak to us clearly enough that we walk in your way, and leave us guessing enough to require our faith.
This may be one of the most difficult things about our spiritual walk -- knowing what to do when someone else shares a revelation with you. When its not straight from scripture, it is quite subjective. There are all sorts of factors that can lead someone to share things with you. How much do you let what they are hearing and learning impact what you do? Surely it is foolish to ignore counsel. But, at the same time, what the Lord may want from you may not be exactly the same as what He wants from them.
I've been keeping my eyes and ears open to see and hear what else the Lord has to say. As I'm reading in Ezekiel, talking with other brothers and sisters, doing other devotional reading, and praying about all this -- I'm asking the Lord to remind me of the things he wants me to heed. Lord, help us not to miss the things you are teaching us. We want to know what you are saying to us. Speak to us clearly enough that we walk in your way, and leave us guessing enough to require our faith.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Surviving
Tonight I watched episode two in the current season of Survivor and was reminded of a few things.
One, as I watched Rob struggle with the physical part of the show, I thought about how miserable this experience is.
Two, as I saw the further dismantling of the Hero tribe, I couldn't help but consider how much easier it is to play this game if you're villainous.
Three, I recalled words of prophetic caution. Whatever it is you pursue, if it is not of God, be very careful. All things are permissible, but not all things are beneficial. Any game, hobby, or pursuit can easily become an obsession that takes our focus and energy away from the things of God. Of itself, it may not be sinful, but Paul reminds us that anything not done in faith is sin. And the testimony of Scripture as a whole reminds us that only Christ is worth presenting yourself as a living sacrifice.
One, as I watched Rob struggle with the physical part of the show, I thought about how miserable this experience is.
Two, as I saw the further dismantling of the Hero tribe, I couldn't help but consider how much easier it is to play this game if you're villainous.
Three, I recalled words of prophetic caution. Whatever it is you pursue, if it is not of God, be very careful. All things are permissible, but not all things are beneficial. Any game, hobby, or pursuit can easily become an obsession that takes our focus and energy away from the things of God. Of itself, it may not be sinful, but Paul reminds us that anything not done in faith is sin. And the testimony of Scripture as a whole reminds us that only Christ is worth presenting yourself as a living sacrifice.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
This is Insane
"The job of a football coach is to make men do what they don't want to do, in order to achieve what they've always wanted to be." -- Tom Landry
I always say I want to be in shape, that I want to workout, that I want to stay healthy. But do I really want these things? Because when the time comes to actually do something about it, it is so much easier to not do the things that would bring about change. So, if I say I want to do something, but don't do anything in response to it, do I really want to do it at all?
I've recently started a new workout regimen called "Insanity." It really is ridiculous, a sort of slow torture that is designed for people who want boot camp without the uniform. When I think about it, I get excited. When I tell people about it, part of me is proud that I'm doing it. But when it comes time to actually stick the DVD in there and DO it, I'm filled with a sense of dread. I know after I'm done I'll feel better, but it is just SO difficult that it is a struggle to get motivated every single time.
This week I'm preaching on spiritual disciplines. They aren't any easier. The hill we have to climb is less related to physical discomfort (most of the time). But the dread and the pain involved in exercising the spiritual disciplines is no less real than the pain of physical exhaustion. And frankly, most of us just won't do it. We know we should, we may even tell others they should. But we have been nurtured in a culture where comfort is a god to be worshiped. And we are at his feet (on soft carpet).
Does this sound crazy to you? Maybe it should. My favorite preacher William Sangster wrote a sermon called "Drunk and Mad." In the message, he talked about two passages in Acts. The first is in Acts two, where the apostle Peter has to defend those who've received the Holy Spirit from the charge of being intoxicated. He explains, "These men are not drunk, as you suppose" (Acts 2:15). The second is when the Apostle Paul is making his defense before Festus and Festus accuses him of being crazy. Paul responds, "I am not insane, most excellent Festus” (Acts 26:25).
Have you noticed? No one seems to think Christians are crazy any more. This is not a good sign. When what we do is making perfect sense to people who are lost, the church has missed the boat. The Spirit, like Elvis, has left the building. I wonder how long the American church will be content with this status quo? And I wonder how many of us are willing to endure the pain to live differently rather than just ponder it. If we really do, prepare to have people think you're nuts.
Wouldn't that be great?
I always say I want to be in shape, that I want to workout, that I want to stay healthy. But do I really want these things? Because when the time comes to actually do something about it, it is so much easier to not do the things that would bring about change. So, if I say I want to do something, but don't do anything in response to it, do I really want to do it at all?
I've recently started a new workout regimen called "Insanity." It really is ridiculous, a sort of slow torture that is designed for people who want boot camp without the uniform. When I think about it, I get excited. When I tell people about it, part of me is proud that I'm doing it. But when it comes time to actually stick the DVD in there and DO it, I'm filled with a sense of dread. I know after I'm done I'll feel better, but it is just SO difficult that it is a struggle to get motivated every single time.
This week I'm preaching on spiritual disciplines. They aren't any easier. The hill we have to climb is less related to physical discomfort (most of the time). But the dread and the pain involved in exercising the spiritual disciplines is no less real than the pain of physical exhaustion. And frankly, most of us just won't do it. We know we should, we may even tell others they should. But we have been nurtured in a culture where comfort is a god to be worshiped. And we are at his feet (on soft carpet).
Does this sound crazy to you? Maybe it should. My favorite preacher William Sangster wrote a sermon called "Drunk and Mad." In the message, he talked about two passages in Acts. The first is in Acts two, where the apostle Peter has to defend those who've received the Holy Spirit from the charge of being intoxicated. He explains, "These men are not drunk, as you suppose" (Acts 2:15). The second is when the Apostle Paul is making his defense before Festus and Festus accuses him of being crazy. Paul responds, "I am not insane, most excellent Festus” (Acts 26:25).
Have you noticed? No one seems to think Christians are crazy any more. This is not a good sign. When what we do is making perfect sense to people who are lost, the church has missed the boat. The Spirit, like Elvis, has left the building. I wonder how long the American church will be content with this status quo? And I wonder how many of us are willing to endure the pain to live differently rather than just ponder it. If we really do, prepare to have people think you're nuts.
Wouldn't that be great?
Monday, February 15, 2010
505
No, the title of this blog isn't describing a type of Levi jeans. It is the number of people we had in worship at New Hope yesterday. Over 500?! Crazy. Of course, I know we didn't have exactly 505 people there. Counting with great accuracy has long since become too difficult. I'm sure there were people counted twice. A few may have even been counted three times. There are also a few who don't get counted.
What I do know is that we set a record attendance on Baby Dedication Sunday last year as well. Only then the record was 419. From one year to the next, that's nearly a 20% increase by the same counting method (in fact, I think it was the exact same guy). 500 people at little old New Hope? Surreal. Yet, I can't help but wonder . . . does God care about this?
One thing culture and I tend to agree about is that bigger is usually better. Preacher people measure one another's success numerically with alarming frequency. Of course I know in my heart that having more people doesn't make you better in God's eyes. But I've never been able to shake the belief that if a church is healthy, it ought to grow. My Dad's always told me that you can tell churches that don't talk about numbers, because they're the ones that aren't growing. Apparently it mattered to someone how many people Jesus fed with a few loaves of bread and some fish. Someone believed it was worth counting decisions at Pentecost.
But the real test of numbers isn't when you're having big events and great moments. Yes, they are exciting and there probably should be moments like that. The real test is when discipleship happens and people need to make a personal investment and commitment. You know how many people are really there when persecution comes and the bulk of the disciples scatter in all directions. When soldiers come knocking at the door, you find out who's really serious about being counted.
Am I excited about having a record Sunday at New Hope? Absolutely! But I never want our faithfulness as a congregation measured by how many people we can stuff into that tiny room three times on Sunday morning. May we be the Body of Christ, a place where no matter how many people come, they can find healing and hope, heart and heaven.
What I do know is that we set a record attendance on Baby Dedication Sunday last year as well. Only then the record was 419. From one year to the next, that's nearly a 20% increase by the same counting method (in fact, I think it was the exact same guy). 500 people at little old New Hope? Surreal. Yet, I can't help but wonder . . . does God care about this?
One thing culture and I tend to agree about is that bigger is usually better. Preacher people measure one another's success numerically with alarming frequency. Of course I know in my heart that having more people doesn't make you better in God's eyes. But I've never been able to shake the belief that if a church is healthy, it ought to grow. My Dad's always told me that you can tell churches that don't talk about numbers, because they're the ones that aren't growing. Apparently it mattered to someone how many people Jesus fed with a few loaves of bread and some fish. Someone believed it was worth counting decisions at Pentecost.
But the real test of numbers isn't when you're having big events and great moments. Yes, they are exciting and there probably should be moments like that. The real test is when discipleship happens and people need to make a personal investment and commitment. You know how many people are really there when persecution comes and the bulk of the disciples scatter in all directions. When soldiers come knocking at the door, you find out who's really serious about being counted.
Am I excited about having a record Sunday at New Hope? Absolutely! But I never want our faithfulness as a congregation measured by how many people we can stuff into that tiny room three times on Sunday morning. May we be the Body of Christ, a place where no matter how many people come, they can find healing and hope, heart and heaven.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Love Never Fails
This is of course the conclusion of Paul's words about love in 1 Corinthians 13. And as I'm thinking about what I see in relationships of so many Christian couples, I'm not seeing it. As I'm reading the painful story of Ezekiel unfolding (In Ch. 16 now), I'm not seeing it. So often love is abused, taken for granted, tossed to the side. Very sad to see.
Why do so many abuse those who love them most? And most importantly, what is it in me that makes me sometimes also take for granted those who love me most? Love isn't supposed to fail. God give us this kind of love, because we're doing a pretty poor job coming up with it on our own.
Why do so many abuse those who love them most? And most importantly, what is it in me that makes me sometimes also take for granted those who love me most? Love isn't supposed to fail. God give us this kind of love, because we're doing a pretty poor job coming up with it on our own.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Priorities Matter
Last night was the season premiere of Survivor 20: Heroes vs. Villains. People who know me well know that I'm a big fan of the show, and a bigger fan of the game. That being said, last night the season premiere came on and I didn't watch it. Instead, I was at a restaurant having dinner. While I sat there with my family, my phone lit up with text messages from Survivor fans in my congregation who wanted to discuss what was happening. They were shocked when I told them I wasn't in front of my television.
But last night our family had the privilege of accepting an offer from two dear friends to go to dinner. Prior to leaving for China, they invited us out to dinner to our favorite restaurant (Arzu Meditteranean). As unexpected as it was to some that I was there instead of ensconced in front of a screen, I would do the same thing a thousand times. Life is about relationships. How can we trade opportunities to experience rich community in the interest of entertainment or self-indulgence?
Yet, do we not do this all the time? Is this not the reason for the constant longing for community in our culture? We don't do life together any more. We don't know one another any more. We've traded away community for privacy. We've traded away conversation for diversion. I suspect we would be hard pressed to find anyone who believes our lives are truly better because of the trade.
But last night our family had the privilege of accepting an offer from two dear friends to go to dinner. Prior to leaving for China, they invited us out to dinner to our favorite restaurant (Arzu Meditteranean). As unexpected as it was to some that I was there instead of ensconced in front of a screen, I would do the same thing a thousand times. Life is about relationships. How can we trade opportunities to experience rich community in the interest of entertainment or self-indulgence?
Yet, do we not do this all the time? Is this not the reason for the constant longing for community in our culture? We don't do life together any more. We don't know one another any more. We've traded away community for privacy. We've traded away conversation for diversion. I suspect we would be hard pressed to find anyone who believes our lives are truly better because of the trade.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Parable for America
Jesus told many parables. It is difficult to say precisely how many because there are quite a few places where it is hard to know whether to label a passage as a parable. But the total number is likely a bit over 30. The brilliance of these parables is difficult to appreciate when you're merely browsing them. But when you spend time savoring them (or teach them to others), you begin to appreciate their depth and didactic force. Jesus used questions and stories to help people not merely learn, but discover truth.
Some of the parables are so well known they have become part of the popular vocabulary. The stories of the Prodigal (Lost) Son, the "Good" Samaritan, and the Sower have been preached and taught so often that it is hard to discover a fresh angle when we go back and read them again. Meanwhile there are many less well known parables. These less discussed parables are like untapped gold mines. In at least one case, I believe the message of the parable is something the American church needs to hear more than the punchlines of the more well known parables. I'm going to refer to this parable as the "parable for America," but it is more commonly labeled the parable of the two sons.
Perhaps the traditional label of the parable is one reason it is so oft ignored. When you say "parable of the two sons" to most Christians, they think immediately of the parable of the prodigal son. [An aside: Even the labels and names we attach to these parables say a lot about what we choose to acknowledge and ignore]. This parable is shorter, but poignant, and told at a strategic moment in Jesus life and ministry. It follows the most common structure of Jesus’ parables—a story of a master figure with two contrasting subordinates. In this case they are both sons, which gives the story a superficial similarity with the longer parable in Luke 15. But the point is a bit different. Here it is from the NIV:
American Christians say the right things. We sure can talk some good faith! We say we're committed, and even deeply (and mistakenly) believe we are. But the test of faithfulness is in whether we do the will of God. Far too many believe we have done God's will if we show up at church. Participating in worship isn't what God needs from us, it is what we need from God - so we can do His will. We don't begin to be the obedient son until we present ourselves as living sacrifices to Him, prepared to do what He asks. I don't get bonus points for being a preacher/pastor. In fact, as I compare my life and ministry to those faithful to the Lord in Scripture, I realize my yoke is particularly easy and my burden is very light. Maybe it is because I'm still discovering what vineyard I ought to be working in.
Some of the parables are so well known they have become part of the popular vocabulary. The stories of the Prodigal (Lost) Son, the "Good" Samaritan, and the Sower have been preached and taught so often that it is hard to discover a fresh angle when we go back and read them again. Meanwhile there are many less well known parables. These less discussed parables are like untapped gold mines. In at least one case, I believe the message of the parable is something the American church needs to hear more than the punchlines of the more well known parables. I'm going to refer to this parable as the "parable for America," but it is more commonly labeled the parable of the two sons.
Perhaps the traditional label of the parable is one reason it is so oft ignored. When you say "parable of the two sons" to most Christians, they think immediately of the parable of the prodigal son. [An aside: Even the labels and names we attach to these parables say a lot about what we choose to acknowledge and ignore]. This parable is shorter, but poignant, and told at a strategic moment in Jesus life and ministry. It follows the most common structure of Jesus’ parables—a story of a master figure with two contrasting subordinates. In this case they are both sons, which gives the story a superficial similarity with the longer parable in Luke 15. But the point is a bit different. Here it is from the NIV:
“What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’Essentially there are two components to the story. The first is what the sons said they would do, and the second is what the servants actually did. One son said the right thing, the other did the right thing. Jesus asks those listening which son was pleasing to God. They understood and knew that what was done was decisive, not what was said.
"I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.
“Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.
Which of the two did what his father wanted?” “The first,” they answered.
American Christians say the right things. We sure can talk some good faith! We say we're committed, and even deeply (and mistakenly) believe we are. But the test of faithfulness is in whether we do the will of God. Far too many believe we have done God's will if we show up at church. Participating in worship isn't what God needs from us, it is what we need from God - so we can do His will. We don't begin to be the obedient son until we present ourselves as living sacrifices to Him, prepared to do what He asks. I don't get bonus points for being a preacher/pastor. In fact, as I compare my life and ministry to those faithful to the Lord in Scripture, I realize my yoke is particularly easy and my burden is very light. Maybe it is because I'm still discovering what vineyard I ought to be working in.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Blog Sabbath?
Today as I was talking over the blogging phenomenon with a dear brother, he suggested that I ought not try to blog every day, but that I should take sabbath one day a week. The comment raised a couple issues for me. First, how much of life does the concept of rest and sabbath apply to? I know the rabbis spilled a lot of ink (and verbage) on this one. Clearly their conclusions differed from Jesus, who had a more liberal view of the application. I know we're not under law, so I'm not viewing this as some requirement or test I have to pass. But I'm wondering if God has a preference about such things.
Then there are the other reasons for sabbath. Could it be that taking one day off out of seven may increase the quality of the other six? But I don't apply that rationale to other healthy habits, like brushing teeth or taking a shower. (Okay, sometimes I don't shower one day a week, but not because the next day I'll get cleaner). I suppose taking a break is something I could choose to do, but I wonder if that isn't something I would be tempted to do more out of laziness than obedience?
I'm inclined more toward Daniel R's suggestion to have the occasional brief blog on a lighter topic rather than just avoid writing altogether. But, again going back to my original purpose for this blog. It is not only to be a vehicle to help me reflect. It is also designed to serve me, not to make me its slave.
Then there are the other reasons for sabbath. Could it be that taking one day off out of seven may increase the quality of the other six? But I don't apply that rationale to other healthy habits, like brushing teeth or taking a shower. (Okay, sometimes I don't shower one day a week, but not because the next day I'll get cleaner). I suppose taking a break is something I could choose to do, but I wonder if that isn't something I would be tempted to do more out of laziness than obedience?
I'm inclined more toward Daniel R's suggestion to have the occasional brief blog on a lighter topic rather than just avoid writing altogether. But, again going back to my original purpose for this blog. It is not only to be a vehicle to help me reflect. It is also designed to serve me, not to make me its slave.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Spontaneity and the Word
After six years of full-time preaching, I think I've found my "groove." I have a pretty good idea of what works for the congregation where I serve. I have a sermon prep day (Friday), and a process I go through to get from selecting the topic to determining the content. This process provides a "rhythm" to the week that is predictable and familiar. More importantly, its been something I've seen the Lord use in the lives of the people I'm called to serve.
Part of this rhythm has to do with preaching in series. I tend to select books or sections of scripture to preach on and then work my way through the material. I'm much more of an exegete than a topical preacher. Generally I'm irked by preachers that have their congregants flipping all over their bibles to locate the next verse the preacher wants to use (even more irksome to me is the tendency of some preachers to change versions of scripture as it suits their purposes, but I digress.)
Snow breaks the flow. When we get enough snow to go to a single service, I know that the majority of those who typically come on a Sunday morning aren't hearing the next sermon in the series. Miss a couple of these in a row, and suddenly it seems like you're out of the loop. You don't feel like you know what's going on any more. The two recent service-altering snowfalls led me to preach half of a sermon in the series first, saving the other portion for the scheduled Family Sunday. But when we had to postpone Family Sunday a second time, I found myself at an impasse. I didn't believe I should go any further, but there was nowhere to go back.
So this week I prayed and considered what the Lord has been showing me in my reading. I decided I would preach a sermon simply entitled, "Why?" The subtitle was, "A Question of Theodicy." The message was more teaching than preaching and I addressed the struggles we all face with the goodness and justice of God when we find ourselves facing tragedy. I wasn't sure how this topical message would work, but when I listened to the voices of those who described how it ministered to them, I was grateful for the Lord's subtle guidance when we look to Him.
What I find myself wondering is what would happen if I tried going for a season of life and preparing the sermons I felt led to speak each week? I'm not sure I'm comfortable enough yet to try something like that, but if this week was any indication, perhaps I should recruit some prayer warriors and try it for a month or so. Where is the line between trusting God and being haphazard?
Part of this rhythm has to do with preaching in series. I tend to select books or sections of scripture to preach on and then work my way through the material. I'm much more of an exegete than a topical preacher. Generally I'm irked by preachers that have their congregants flipping all over their bibles to locate the next verse the preacher wants to use (even more irksome to me is the tendency of some preachers to change versions of scripture as it suits their purposes, but I digress.)
Snow breaks the flow. When we get enough snow to go to a single service, I know that the majority of those who typically come on a Sunday morning aren't hearing the next sermon in the series. Miss a couple of these in a row, and suddenly it seems like you're out of the loop. You don't feel like you know what's going on any more. The two recent service-altering snowfalls led me to preach half of a sermon in the series first, saving the other portion for the scheduled Family Sunday. But when we had to postpone Family Sunday a second time, I found myself at an impasse. I didn't believe I should go any further, but there was nowhere to go back.
So this week I prayed and considered what the Lord has been showing me in my reading. I decided I would preach a sermon simply entitled, "Why?" The subtitle was, "A Question of Theodicy." The message was more teaching than preaching and I addressed the struggles we all face with the goodness and justice of God when we find ourselves facing tragedy. I wasn't sure how this topical message would work, but when I listened to the voices of those who described how it ministered to them, I was grateful for the Lord's subtle guidance when we look to Him.
What I find myself wondering is what would happen if I tried going for a season of life and preparing the sermons I felt led to speak each week? I'm not sure I'm comfortable enough yet to try something like that, but if this week was any indication, perhaps I should recruit some prayer warriors and try it for a month or so. Where is the line between trusting God and being haphazard?
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Equal Tolerance
I am indebted to Daniel E. for pointing me to Sally Jenkins' article in the Washington Post about the Tim Tebow Super Bowl commercial. You can see this article here: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/02/01/AR2010020102067.html. Like many others, I'd heard the ad was coming and was likely to produce some controversy because of its Pro-Life stand. Sadly, I missed the content while hanging out with the Braxton's in their hospital room. But it can already be viewed on http://www.focusonthefamily.org/.
The article about this ad particularly struck me. In it, a staunchly pro-choice columnist blasts those who oppose airing the 30 second spot. Although the author doesn't agree at all with the Tebow's point of view, she defends their right to air it, and offers scathing rebuke to those with whom she would agree on the issues.
This is the kind of responsible journalism we need more of on both sides of controversial issues. We need more people who can see beyond the emotional bluster so they can think clearly about what they are saying. Hundreds of thousands of U.S. soldiers have died for the right to freedom of expression, protest, and the press. We mock their sacrifice when we try to strip that freedom in the interest of guarding a sacred ideology.
I understand full well that this opinion may well mean having to open the door at times to ideas I don't personally agree with. CBS refused to air an ad for a homosexual dating service during the Super Bowl. We are going to have to wrestle culturally with how to apply these criteria more objectively so we don't just arbitrarily choose to give air time to things we agree with. And on the other side, there are issues of decency and what it means for a show to be family-friendly that we also have to honor.
What I do know after watching the Tebow ad is that while it is allegedly "pro-life," its message is so subtle as to make it nearly impossible to argue with. Apparently that's not enough for some, who will oppose something simply because they've made up their minds ahead of time. Let that not be me.
The article about this ad particularly struck me. In it, a staunchly pro-choice columnist blasts those who oppose airing the 30 second spot. Although the author doesn't agree at all with the Tebow's point of view, she defends their right to air it, and offers scathing rebuke to those with whom she would agree on the issues.
This is the kind of responsible journalism we need more of on both sides of controversial issues. We need more people who can see beyond the emotional bluster so they can think clearly about what they are saying. Hundreds of thousands of U.S. soldiers have died for the right to freedom of expression, protest, and the press. We mock their sacrifice when we try to strip that freedom in the interest of guarding a sacred ideology.
I understand full well that this opinion may well mean having to open the door at times to ideas I don't personally agree with. CBS refused to air an ad for a homosexual dating service during the Super Bowl. We are going to have to wrestle culturally with how to apply these criteria more objectively so we don't just arbitrarily choose to give air time to things we agree with. And on the other side, there are issues of decency and what it means for a show to be family-friendly that we also have to honor.
What I do know after watching the Tebow ad is that while it is allegedly "pro-life," its message is so subtle as to make it nearly impossible to argue with. Apparently that's not enough for some, who will oppose something simply because they've made up their minds ahead of time. Let that not be me.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
The Vagaries of Emotion
On the Myers-Briggs, I am an ENTJ. Once or twice I've scored as an ENTP, but the ENT part is pretty fixed (although apparently I used to be an extreme extrovert and am now a more typical extrovert). What that means is that I'm Extroverted, iNtuitive, and a Thinker, as opposed to an Introvert, Sensing, and a Feeler. My entire life I've been much more in tune with my brain than my heart. It seems a bit odd to even say that, since I am a romantic. But the source of my decision making is my brain more often than my heart.
But boy can emotion still be very powerful! If this is what it feels like to be a thinker, I feel for all those feelers out there. Good grief it must be very difficult to feel so strongly and make decisions in light of such powerful emotions. Even in the more settled times of my life, I find myself tugged very strongly in different directions by my emotions. Just in the past few days, I've found myself dragged back and forth by several circumstances in my life. In one moment, I've had a very strong emotional sentiment in one direction. Then, within a day or two I find myself feeling dramatically different.
This bizarre roller-coaster ride makes consistency significantly more difficult. The ups and downs of expectations prompted by external circumstances make life interesting. Yet this is the sort of interesting that makes the phrase "May you live in interesting times" understood to be a curse.
[Side note: I've always thought this is a Chinese curse, but Wikipedia suggests that's not the case. Also, this is the first of three curses. The other two are, "May you come to the attention of those in authority" and "May you find what you are looking for." Worth considering . . .]
All this raises the same old questions for me. The question of the summum bonum of life, what's worth living for, and the value of the pursuit as opposed to the achievement. I suppose if we had all we want, it would be a Brave New World, but one few of us would find very satisfying for long (I hope). If it sounds like I'm talking in circles, I probably am. But then isn't that part of the benefit of a blog -- that it doesn't really have to go anywhere? Or perhaps that it is the opportunity to narrate the plot of our lives when we don't know what it is. We just turn the page to see what's next.
But boy can emotion still be very powerful! If this is what it feels like to be a thinker, I feel for all those feelers out there. Good grief it must be very difficult to feel so strongly and make decisions in light of such powerful emotions. Even in the more settled times of my life, I find myself tugged very strongly in different directions by my emotions. Just in the past few days, I've found myself dragged back and forth by several circumstances in my life. In one moment, I've had a very strong emotional sentiment in one direction. Then, within a day or two I find myself feeling dramatically different.
This bizarre roller-coaster ride makes consistency significantly more difficult. The ups and downs of expectations prompted by external circumstances make life interesting. Yet this is the sort of interesting that makes the phrase "May you live in interesting times" understood to be a curse.
[Side note: I've always thought this is a Chinese curse, but Wikipedia suggests that's not the case. Also, this is the first of three curses. The other two are, "May you come to the attention of those in authority" and "May you find what you are looking for." Worth considering . . .]
All this raises the same old questions for me. The question of the summum bonum of life, what's worth living for, and the value of the pursuit as opposed to the achievement. I suppose if we had all we want, it would be a Brave New World, but one few of us would find very satisfying for long (I hope). If it sounds like I'm talking in circles, I probably am. But then isn't that part of the benefit of a blog -- that it doesn't really have to go anywhere? Or perhaps that it is the opportunity to narrate the plot of our lives when we don't know what it is. We just turn the page to see what's next.
Friday, February 5, 2010
God Knows What He's Doing
Quite a few in this part of the world are wondering alound, “Why is it snowing again?” Even many who have long loved snow and the respite it gives from routine are starting to ask when it will end. Why questions do beg for answers, but they are nearly always unanswerable. Any time we question why history unfolds as it does, or why God allows what He does, we find ourselves having to speculate. No one can know the mind of God unless He chooses to reveal it to us.
Most of us have seen many things that have caused us to wonder “why?” I’ve wrestled with seeing handicapped children and untimely deaths. But what was once an occasional question has recently become a frequent concern. Large scale, widespread tragedy has been particularly common recently. Growing up, I don’t remember wrestling this much with tragedy. Perhaps it was because I was insulated from it or oblivious to it. But I have the sense that the last decade or so has been one where we’ve had to face this question far more often.
Since we’ve pledged we would never forget most of these events, I think its worth taking a look at them together:
Columbine shootings in Colorado (1999)
9/11 in New York City (2001)
Tsunami in Asia (2004)
Katrina in Louisiana (2005)
VT shootings (2007)
Earthquake in Haiti (2010)
Not all these events were global in scope, but all of us who have lived in this part of the world have been significantly affected by each of them.
Personal suffering can often be even more troubling. Those who have experienced personal suffering either themselves or among those they care for most struggle with this issue. They wonder how a loving, all-powerful God could allow people to suffer. After the tsunami in Asia, one reporter wrote:
“If God is God, he’s not good. If God is good, He’s not God.”
While such questions may not carry much weight in most circumstances, when pain becomes suddenly personal these questions loom large. Greek philosopher Epicurus presented the issue as a perplexing dilemma.
Is God willing to prevent evil but not able? Then he is impotent.
Is he able but not willing? Then he is malevolent
Is he both able and willing? From whence then is evil?
This is a difficult issue that is not easily answered. We cannot simply turn to book, chapter and verse and get a succinct answer to this question. Even when our experiences don't match our convictions, it is still true that God knows what He's doing. Just sometimes I wish I did as well.
Most of us have seen many things that have caused us to wonder “why?” I’ve wrestled with seeing handicapped children and untimely deaths. But what was once an occasional question has recently become a frequent concern. Large scale, widespread tragedy has been particularly common recently. Growing up, I don’t remember wrestling this much with tragedy. Perhaps it was because I was insulated from it or oblivious to it. But I have the sense that the last decade or so has been one where we’ve had to face this question far more often.
Since we’ve pledged we would never forget most of these events, I think its worth taking a look at them together:
Columbine shootings in Colorado (1999)
9/11 in New York City (2001)
Tsunami in Asia (2004)
Katrina in Louisiana (2005)
VT shootings (2007)
Earthquake in Haiti (2010)
Not all these events were global in scope, but all of us who have lived in this part of the world have been significantly affected by each of them.
Personal suffering can often be even more troubling. Those who have experienced personal suffering either themselves or among those they care for most struggle with this issue. They wonder how a loving, all-powerful God could allow people to suffer. After the tsunami in Asia, one reporter wrote:
“If God is God, he’s not good. If God is good, He’s not God.”
While such questions may not carry much weight in most circumstances, when pain becomes suddenly personal these questions loom large. Greek philosopher Epicurus presented the issue as a perplexing dilemma.
Is God willing to prevent evil but not able? Then he is impotent.
Is he able but not willing? Then he is malevolent
Is he both able and willing? From whence then is evil?
This is a difficult issue that is not easily answered. We cannot simply turn to book, chapter and verse and get a succinct answer to this question. Even when our experiences don't match our convictions, it is still true that God knows what He's doing. Just sometimes I wish I did as well.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Never Forget
For the past four months or so, I've been coming up with a "Question of the Week." These are questions designed to be thought provoking. Originally I devised these questions to prompt thinking among the students in our youth ministry while our youth minister was in India. But since then I've expanded the scope to include others who may also be interested.
Over the course of these months, some of the questions have been mind-jarring, while others have been frankly rather pedestrian. Here are a few examples of previous questions I've used as the "Question of the Week":
If you met the "you from three years ago," what advice would you give yourself?
What's one thing you genuinely like about yourself?
If you could have any three people (dead or alive) as dinner guests, who would you invite?
This week as I was wrestling with what to ask, I thought of all the things we promise never to forget. We will often say this for example about tragedy, like 9/11 or the Virginia Tech shootings. But how many things do we say to ourselves we will never forget? And how well do we keep this commitment? It seems to me we say this often and almost never mean it. So this week's question is:
What was the last thing you promised yourself you would never forget?
I remembered mine. How about you?
Over the course of these months, some of the questions have been mind-jarring, while others have been frankly rather pedestrian. Here are a few examples of previous questions I've used as the "Question of the Week":
If you met the "you from three years ago," what advice would you give yourself?
What's one thing you genuinely like about yourself?
If you could have any three people (dead or alive) as dinner guests, who would you invite?
This week as I was wrestling with what to ask, I thought of all the things we promise never to forget. We will often say this for example about tragedy, like 9/11 or the Virginia Tech shootings. But how many things do we say to ourselves we will never forget? And how well do we keep this commitment? It seems to me we say this often and almost never mean it. So this week's question is:
What was the last thing you promised yourself you would never forget?
I remembered mine. How about you?
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The Nature of Doubt
“How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.” - Zechariah (Luke 1:18)
“How will this be since I am a virgin?” - Mary (Luke 1:34)
After Gabriel annunced to Zechariah and Mary they could expect a new child in their families, they both responded by asking how this was going to happen. In Zechariah's case, his question was greeted by apparent anger at his disbelief, and he spent the next nine months unable to speak because of his doubt. Sixteen verses later we see Mary's reaction to Gabriel's announcement that she would have a child as a virgin. She was puzzled and asked how this could be. In her case, the same angel responds with a compassionate answer that seems to satisfy her sense of wonder. Her doubt was answered with a reasonable explanation.
And so goes the biblical theme of doubt. There is a sense in which doubt is not only expected, it is a means that prompts people to look more deeply into what they believe. Other times doubt seems to be interpreted as indicative of a lack of faith. I suspect that if we could hear the differences in the tone of voice used by Zechariah and Mary we would be able to tell the difference. It is one thing to face moments of weakness or to wonder by what mechanism God will bring about His purposes. But it is another to live in a state of disbelief or question whether God will make good on His word. Granted it is a fine line, but I believe it to be an important one.
I've begun reading The Reason for God by Timothy Keller. In the introduction and first chapter of the book, he deals with "the sociology of knowledge." This is the idea that we believe much of what we believe not on the basis of factual evidence, but on cultural approval of certain belief systems. While these factors certainly play a large role in presenting us with options at different stages in our lives, they are not decisive. He also encourages us to question our questions.
The fundamental belief systems underlying our doubts often get a pass when it comes to intellectual scrutiny. We doubt certain things taught by Scripture, but what is the belief system that drives those doubts? And is that system of thinking as sound as we presume it to be? Keller writes, "The only way to doubt Christianity rightly and fairly is to discern the alternate belief under each of your doubts and then to ask yourself what reasons you have for believing it." I strongly suspect this will not be commonly practiced, but it is great counsel.
As a Christian, I regularly question my belief system. On more difficult days, I lean back on two pieces of evidence I've scrutinized over and over and seem to me to be rock solid. They are creation, which makes me a theist, and the resurrection, which makes me a Christian specifically. Moments of questioning and weakness have become pretty infrequent at this point in my journey. God has proven himself over and over to the point where the preponderance of evidence makes any alternative seem ridiculous most of the time. But when they come, its nice to have more than feeling in which to place my confidence and faith.
“How will this be since I am a virgin?” - Mary (Luke 1:34)
After Gabriel annunced to Zechariah and Mary they could expect a new child in their families, they both responded by asking how this was going to happen. In Zechariah's case, his question was greeted by apparent anger at his disbelief, and he spent the next nine months unable to speak because of his doubt. Sixteen verses later we see Mary's reaction to Gabriel's announcement that she would have a child as a virgin. She was puzzled and asked how this could be. In her case, the same angel responds with a compassionate answer that seems to satisfy her sense of wonder. Her doubt was answered with a reasonable explanation.
And so goes the biblical theme of doubt. There is a sense in which doubt is not only expected, it is a means that prompts people to look more deeply into what they believe. Other times doubt seems to be interpreted as indicative of a lack of faith. I suspect that if we could hear the differences in the tone of voice used by Zechariah and Mary we would be able to tell the difference. It is one thing to face moments of weakness or to wonder by what mechanism God will bring about His purposes. But it is another to live in a state of disbelief or question whether God will make good on His word. Granted it is a fine line, but I believe it to be an important one.
I've begun reading The Reason for God by Timothy Keller. In the introduction and first chapter of the book, he deals with "the sociology of knowledge." This is the idea that we believe much of what we believe not on the basis of factual evidence, but on cultural approval of certain belief systems. While these factors certainly play a large role in presenting us with options at different stages in our lives, they are not decisive. He also encourages us to question our questions.
The fundamental belief systems underlying our doubts often get a pass when it comes to intellectual scrutiny. We doubt certain things taught by Scripture, but what is the belief system that drives those doubts? And is that system of thinking as sound as we presume it to be? Keller writes, "The only way to doubt Christianity rightly and fairly is to discern the alternate belief under each of your doubts and then to ask yourself what reasons you have for believing it." I strongly suspect this will not be commonly practiced, but it is great counsel.
As a Christian, I regularly question my belief system. On more difficult days, I lean back on two pieces of evidence I've scrutinized over and over and seem to me to be rock solid. They are creation, which makes me a theist, and the resurrection, which makes me a Christian specifically. Moments of questioning and weakness have become pretty infrequent at this point in my journey. God has proven himself over and over to the point where the preponderance of evidence makes any alternative seem ridiculous most of the time. But when they come, its nice to have more than feeling in which to place my confidence and faith.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Stop the Presses
As sleet, snow, and freezing rain fell outside my office window today, I pondered the date. Yep, February 2nd, the day we hear a weather forecast for the next month and a half from a mute groundhog. At first, I thought that it was certain the groundhog would not see his shadow -- since clearly there is no sunshine here. But then I remembered that it is in Punxatawny, Pennsylvania that the weather of the world is decided. Or is it merely the weather of the United States?
Okay, so granted, it is a bunch of silliness. But here in Roanoke, VA, talk of the weather is starting to not be very funny any more. We had our second weekend snowstorm, and despite the face that the snow fell on Friday and Saturday, the kids were still out Monday and Tuesday back in December. And now we just found out they will be out for a third consecutive day from this storm. To add insult to injury, the forecast for this Friday is now calling for another major event of wintry precipitation.
I don't think we need a groundhog to tell us we're not quite done with winter yet. But now in the not funny world of reality, we have to face some difficult questions. What if churches all over the area don't meet again? How long before we find other ways and times to worship? How do we handle summer camp if all the area kids are still in school when its time for camp to begin? On a civic level, how do we handle the fact that on a state and local level all the money for snow removal is long gone?
Okay, so I know this isn't the most theologically provocative blog, but it is relevant, its what many of us are thinking about. But perhaps more importantly is the fact that like every other situation in life we face; God probably wants to use this to teach us. Are we paying as much attention to him as we do to a famous rodent?
Okay, so granted, it is a bunch of silliness. But here in Roanoke, VA, talk of the weather is starting to not be very funny any more. We had our second weekend snowstorm, and despite the face that the snow fell on Friday and Saturday, the kids were still out Monday and Tuesday back in December. And now we just found out they will be out for a third consecutive day from this storm. To add insult to injury, the forecast for this Friday is now calling for another major event of wintry precipitation.
I don't think we need a groundhog to tell us we're not quite done with winter yet. But now in the not funny world of reality, we have to face some difficult questions. What if churches all over the area don't meet again? How long before we find other ways and times to worship? How do we handle summer camp if all the area kids are still in school when its time for camp to begin? On a civic level, how do we handle the fact that on a state and local level all the money for snow removal is long gone?
Okay, so I know this isn't the most theologically provocative blog, but it is relevant, its what many of us are thinking about. But perhaps more importantly is the fact that like every other situation in life we face; God probably wants to use this to teach us. Are we paying as much attention to him as we do to a famous rodent?
Monday, February 1, 2010
Faith and the State
The USPS is suggesting a "Mother Theresa" stamp to honor her for her humanitarian work. But some atheists are objecting to it on the grounds that she is too much of a "religious" figure. Freedom from Religion Foundation spokeswoman Annie Laurie Gaylor told Fox News: "Mother Teresa is principally known as a religious figure who ran a religious institution. You can't really separate her being a nun and being a Roman Catholic from everything she did."
I'm thrilled she thinks that frankly. I can think of no better reason to serve people than to be motivated by faith. Most atheists and agnostics adamantly insist that humanitarian work is done often and frequently by those who have no extrinsic faith. And they are correct in some cases, though historically Christianity has been the fuel that has both fired and sustained most such efforts.
Scripture is clear that sometimes “Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature things required by the law” (Rom 2:14). Christians are called to love above and beyond those loved by the pagans (Matt 5:47). But that’s not to say that pagans don’t sometimes love – even out of less than ideal motives. I’m not always certain what would motivate such action, perhaps guilt, maybe to make themselves feel good, maybe even to earn heaven.
That being said, we have two dynamics unfolding in American culture that are at odd with one another. One is an increasingly broad definition of “religion.” In our pluralistic culture, we are being encouraged to be more open-minded about what qualifies as a valid religion. Not only the major world religions, but odd variations are vying for recognition (not to mention tax-exempt status). At the same time we have another dynamic taking place. That is the attempt to remove religion and its expression from the public square. Not only can you not worship in public, now (as you’ve noted), you can’t even receive recognition for doing something if your motives were religious in nature. These two trends are on a collision course. They are utterly incompatible with one another in a nation that prizes any notion of “freedom.”
Something has to give. If “religion” means anything to any of its adherents, it will be a motive for a wide variety of charitable acts. Even at the national level, the government is seeing great benefit from working cooperatively with “faith-based” organizations. These organizations are more motivated and more productive in their attempts to address societal ills. But we have to address our discomfort with the faith that goes along with such service. Those of us who are Christians need to particularly wrestle with our sentiments. We have been very inclined to push prayer in schools and public displays for Christmas and other holidays. But will we find ourselves creating a monster we don’t want to live with when Christians are no longer in the majority in our culture? Then we may find that all our hard work has been so Muslims can pray and Hindus can meditate in the public arena.
Christians in America have been nurtured on the notion that the church is benefitted by the aid of the State to accomplish its goals. But the most vibrant church in history was an early church opposed by both non-Messianic Jews and a hostile Roman government. Perhaps when we see such rejection we ought not to combat it, but celebrate?
I'm thrilled she thinks that frankly. I can think of no better reason to serve people than to be motivated by faith. Most atheists and agnostics adamantly insist that humanitarian work is done often and frequently by those who have no extrinsic faith. And they are correct in some cases, though historically Christianity has been the fuel that has both fired and sustained most such efforts.
Scripture is clear that sometimes “Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature things required by the law” (Rom 2:14). Christians are called to love above and beyond those loved by the pagans (Matt 5:47). But that’s not to say that pagans don’t sometimes love – even out of less than ideal motives. I’m not always certain what would motivate such action, perhaps guilt, maybe to make themselves feel good, maybe even to earn heaven.
That being said, we have two dynamics unfolding in American culture that are at odd with one another. One is an increasingly broad definition of “religion.” In our pluralistic culture, we are being encouraged to be more open-minded about what qualifies as a valid religion. Not only the major world religions, but odd variations are vying for recognition (not to mention tax-exempt status). At the same time we have another dynamic taking place. That is the attempt to remove religion and its expression from the public square. Not only can you not worship in public, now (as you’ve noted), you can’t even receive recognition for doing something if your motives were religious in nature. These two trends are on a collision course. They are utterly incompatible with one another in a nation that prizes any notion of “freedom.”
Something has to give. If “religion” means anything to any of its adherents, it will be a motive for a wide variety of charitable acts. Even at the national level, the government is seeing great benefit from working cooperatively with “faith-based” organizations. These organizations are more motivated and more productive in their attempts to address societal ills. But we have to address our discomfort with the faith that goes along with such service. Those of us who are Christians need to particularly wrestle with our sentiments. We have been very inclined to push prayer in schools and public displays for Christmas and other holidays. But will we find ourselves creating a monster we don’t want to live with when Christians are no longer in the majority in our culture? Then we may find that all our hard work has been so Muslims can pray and Hindus can meditate in the public arena.
Christians in America have been nurtured on the notion that the church is benefitted by the aid of the State to accomplish its goals. But the most vibrant church in history was an early church opposed by both non-Messianic Jews and a hostile Roman government. Perhaps when we see such rejection we ought not to combat it, but celebrate?
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