bye, Jen

The youth leaders said official goodbyes to Jen last night. She's not leaving for a couple more weeks, but those of us going to India won't see her again. Someone leaving (until eternity or just October), usually inspires people to expand their visions of the relationship. I discovered two things on the way home last night:

1. Jen and I took far too long to become friends in the first place.
2. Jen is leaps and bounds from where she was when we met her just a few months ago.

'Cause I remember when Jen first came to Switch, shy and at least a little uncomfortable in herself. Not at all the confident, bold young woman of God who will soon be heading back to start revival on a college campus in Michigan. It's amazing what the Holy Spirit can do with a willing heart in such a short time.

There are pictures of that too that I occationally day dream about getting posted before I leave, but it's not a realistic day dream. My schedule for the next three days is thus:

Today after work: Clean the apartment and dinner with a friend (because who knows where in the world this girl will be in two weeks) ... at the India Curry House.

Wednesday after work: Purchase everything that I personally need for this trip, and that our team as a whole still needs. Conduct two more hours of missionary training. Finish cleaning the apartment.

Thursday after work: Finish everything that's not done yet, which hopefully does not include cleaning the apartment. Laundry and pack.

Tada! Pray for me.

don't accept Jesus

We had missions training all weekend, and I am tired. I think if I ever co-lead a missions trip again, I'm taking the week before the trip off too.

Yesterday we did a lot of role playing to get our missionaries more accustomed to engaging someone of a totally different culture in a conversation. And then moving that conversation toward Jesus. They were in pairs or small groups, practicing the gospel on each other, and I stopped two of them to explain something that's been on my heart for a few months now.

Don't tell someone they need to accept Jesus.

Webster defines "accept" as (1) to receive, (2) to give approval to, (3) to endure without protest or reaction, (4) to make a favorable response to, etc.

That's weak sauce. That makes me think all I have to do is give Jesus a hug and everything will be okay. Or that I just have to nod at the idea that Jesus is who He is, and He'll bless me. I just have to endure Him without protest. God's heart is overcome with one look of our eye, and we, in turn, endure Him?

Jesus tells his disciples to take up a cross. To repent. Be renewed. Die daily. Give everything. To be reborn.

There's a degree of "accepting" in there, but I wonder what kind of "Christians" we're creating (all over the world) when we're satisfied that someone has prayed a prayer and comes to church three Sundays a month. Are we "mak(ing) disciples," or backsliders?

time

Tim talked last night about time. He mentioned that old adage in passing, that "time is money." A thought crossed my mind, and I won't dare guess where it came from. It was this: If time is money, do I need to tithe on it? 2.4 hours per day? That's 2 hours and 24 minutes, which is basically two-and-a-half hours. Just a thought.

hymns

I remember going to church as a very bored child, and flipping through the hymnals during service to try to find something good. I remember not being very satisfied very often.

I was thinking yesterday about how strange it is when the Holy Spirit breathes on a song. There are some songs that are well composed, and can evoke some sort of emotional response. Then there are songs, every once in a while, that spark revival in your spirit. You don't even have to be trying for those songs.

There are several in a modern worship repetoire, but what I've been musing over lately is hymns that the Holy Spirit chooses to nod at. A new song is a little more understandable because, fine, God's doing a new thing. New thing, new song. But hymns are old and this is still happeneing.

Musically, most hymns are very similar. They use chords that many worship leaders today find uncomfortable, but they all use the same uncomfortable chords. They use the same strange progressions, and they sing on the beat almost all the time. Most hymns convey the same basic ideas in their lyrics; they're usually more generic in content than a lot of modern worship songs. Isolate almost any hymn and it looks like a masterpiece, but line it up with its peers and it conforms.

So how is it that a certain few remain the collective favorites decades to centuries later? How Deep the Father's Love for Us, It Is Well With My Soul, and Joyful Joyful We Adore Thee are a few. How have thousands fallen by the wayside, but a few will still reach to the depths of us?

It's not the music. It's probably not the lyrics. I know it's not nostalgia, because I never really knew a hymn until I met Jesus a few years ago. They're not offering any fresh, new sound or revelation. I don't have any answers.

I do have some fresh inspiration, though. I'm thinking it will be fun (when I get back from India) to fill out a basic structure of some of these hymns with my own arrangements. I'm starting with It Is Well With My Soul, because I stumbled across the following video again recently. Like I said, though, I'm kind of new to this, so there are probably some classics I don't know about. What are some favorite hymns?

spoken word of life

A 17-year-old college freshman me walked 30 minutes through Missouri's only monsoon to the first real open mic night of my life. (Because I'd already walked 30 minutes, so pressing on or going home was going to leave me similarly wet.) A girl I didn't know, but who spoke the same body language as a good friend of mine back home, bought me a cup of coffee and I sat down at a table of three more people I didn't know just in time for a crash course in spoken word.

What I heard in that tiny little café in a midwestern town that no one can name, startled me. It was the power of music in the potency of words. I love music, and I've always loved music, because it expresses the inexpressible. What it does not do is express the expressable.

Sometimes - many times - that which can be best communicated through word is exactly what a soul needs to hear or a heart needs to utter. Sometimes it is those things that are looked over or looked down on because a lecture is not artistic. A discussion or debate does not touch our emotions, but there are things that the artist needs to understand that emotion cannot.

At a basic level, spoken word is performance poetry. Some people read poetry into a microphone. Some people read poetry emotionally into a microphone. The good ones, I soon discovered, wrote poetry that would only be wholly understood when breathed into a microphone. It is music that is spoken.

I started to get into it, writing a little and listening a lot. Shortely thereafter I met Jesus. He can be rather disarming. Everything I was working on suddenly became wrong, and the opportunities to participate suddenly disappeared.

Inspiration has been resurrected. I recently discovered Bradley Hathaway and Amena Brown.

mini revelation

I've been having these brief moments of clarity for the past couple of weeks that I just don't know how to describe. (This is going to make for a great blog entry, hmm?)

I don't know what actually counts as a "revelation," but I don't think that's what this is. I think of a revelation as understanding something you didn't previously understand. Or understanding something to a level you couldn't previously comprehend. I don't think that's what's happening. I think "clarity" is really the best word. It's as if, for the span of a deep breath, the veil is removed and my spirit completely understands something about God that my mind has known for years.

The first one happened toward the end of The Call in Nashville. We were in the middle of a worship set. I was standing - eyes closed and arms raised - when I was suddenly, very aware of God's grace. It's something that I knew, and you know, and when I try to explain in a minute - unless the Holy Spirit assists - you'll nod at, completely unmoved. I'm still going to try. Pray for ears to hear before you read this, or something.

I stood, singing a song I didn't know, but whose chorus was simple enough to remember after the first couple presentations. One line was a very basic lyric about redemption - so unremarkable that I don't remember a word of it now - and as it was sung for the third or thirteenth time the Lord moved it through my spirit and broke something inside of me.

He breathes life into me, not once, but every time I inhale. From the beginning of the beginning He loved me with a heart I will never see the depths of, and for so long I maliciously and intentionally spit in His face. At that moment, though, as I sang that song, He loved me perfectly and for no other reason than He wanted to. His sacrifice was so great, and his mercy is so consuming that it should cost everything. It should cost hell. I realize on the one hand it does cost everything, but not like it should. There is nothing I can do, and only because He wanted it that way.

Because He could have put a cost on it. Purgatory could have been real; indulgences could have been real; He could have assigned a terrible cost and He would have been just in doing so. He didn't want to, though, and in looking over myself I couldn't understand why.

Of course I still don't understand why, but I think He replaces the veil because a person couldn't live day to day with that kind of burden.

But you know all that, and this - like I said - is a bad blog entry because you can't blog about what words can't express. It's been happening every few days since Nashville, though, and I like it.

irony

It's fun the way the Holy Spirit will set you up to preach whatever it is you most need to hear in a given season.

Like when Martin Luther found it impossible to love an angry, unpredicable, malicious god his instructor sent him to Witburg to teach a course on the Bible. In studying scripture to prepare for his assignment, Martin met Jesus and the rest is awesome.

For me, when I've nearly given up on finances or the prospect owning a real home anytime soon, He sends me to teach on faith and Jehovah Jira. In writing lengthy emails, I meet my priorities.

bicycle

The Inghams let me come over last night and play bike shop in their garage. I wish I had before and after pictures to post, because the rims on that blue Schwinn look brand stinkin' new.

We got home rather late and my cutie husband made a comment about his cool wife that fixes bikes. He asked why I like it so much and I didn't know what to say. "Relaxing?" He suggested. I shrugged, not really. I get really frustrated many times when a brake set refuses to hold tension for no good reason.

I left work twenty minutes ago - foresaking lunch in the office for my sanity - to get tea and an internet connection, and realized why I like bicycles. Ready? They're simple.

Even when something goes wrong for no reason I can completely tear the thing apart and put it back together to make it work. Most of the time, though, even considering a dozen different styles that have changed over time, they're pretty basic.

I need simple once in a while.

below the radar

Religious Bonds Divide Some Parents, Kids - USA Today

This is interesting.

Though Gallup polls dating to the '50s say young adults are less likely to attend services or say religion is very important in their lives, clergy of all stripes say they are seeing a small wave of young adults who are more pious than their parents. And they're getting an earful from boomer moms and dads who range from shocked to delighted.

It's not just Christianity, which is even more intriguing to me. There's an increasing passion in young people to live out an uncompromised faith.

Luke 12:49-53//I came to send fire on the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled ... Do you suppose that I came to give peace on earth? I tell you, not at all, but rather division. ... Father will be divided against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother ...

Of course, said division has been on the earth since Jesus died and rose and ascended ... or even since Abram left his family for an unknown land. It's interesting to me that it seems to be picking up again. In a society that has become less and less "pious" with every passing generation, this new pattern is beginning to emerge.

One Rabbi notices that these "devout young people are 'floating below the radar.'" Probably not for long.

A sign of the times? I leave it to you.

five wise

Mike Ingham delivered a great sermon/message/teaching (whatever you want to call it) last night on the parable of the ten virgins in Matthew 25. It was wonderfully insightful, and if you weren't there you should pray fervently that it was recorded and rush to buy it on Sunday.

I do have one question kind of nagging at me, though.

Mike Ingham pointed out (with a fair degree of fervor) that "the wedding" mentioned in verse 10 is not the kingdom of heaven, is not salvation. All ten, after all, are described as "virgins," which symbolizes purity, which can only be had through the blood of a Savior. So all ten were believers. All ten had lamps that burned. Oil is symbolic of the Holy Spirit, so all ten were Spirit-filled believers. This should indicate that all ten will eventually enter the kingdom of heaven.

Then what is the "wedding?"

Because I thought the wedding that scripture refers to was Jesus coming back for His Church - His bride. Revelation 19 talks about the bride making herself ready for this wedding; is that not talking about Jesus calling the faithful unto Himself?

In Matthew 25 the foolish virgins cry out, "Lord, Lord" but He answers that He does not know them. In Matthew 7, Jesus declares that not everyone who says, "'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven" because He "never knew you." Even the parable of the ten virgins begins, "Then the kingdom of heaven shall be likened to ten virgins ..."

We know that salvation can be forfeit. During that waiting period in verse five when they slumbered and slept, could it not be that some who once claimed purity by the blood of the Lamb grew weary, bored, and dispassionate? If the "testing of your faith produces patience (James 1:3)," could the foolish virgins be those whose seed fell "on stony ground," as in Mark 4? I know people even now who once believed, and who once spoke in tongues, but have fallen far from Grace.

Certainly, all ten of the virgins slept, but that period could, as Mike Ingham suggested, be a dry, level period of church history. When there is no revival, no mighty work going on in the Church (or at least in your local church) and the congregation as a whole "slumbers," will you have enough of the Holy Spirit to come out of it, or will your oil burn up?

Isaiah tells us to "seek the Lord while He may be found." Will there be a time immediately preceeding Jesus' return wherein He will be hard to find? When trial and tribulation and the apparent tardiness of the Lord will cause the bridal party to relax a bit on the duty of watching (which will call out the real watchmen, because someone cried out when He came)? How many will have the strength of spirit, the overflow of God's presence, the Word sown in their hearts, to maintain their fires through that period? (Jesus seems to think about half - five out of ten.)

I'm open to the idea that the wedding in Matthew 25 is not the kingdom of God, but what is it, then?

beyond the shadow of a doubt

This is probably one of those things that everyone knows, but me.

Romans 2:1//Therefore you are inexcusable, O man, whoever you are who judge, for in whatever you judge another you condemn yourself; for you who judge practice the same things.

I would always stumble over that last part, right myself quickly like nothing happened, and hurry away before someone saw. If someone is in sin and I determine, based on the fruit of his life, that things are not right ... am I, then, guilty of his sin(s)?

I tripped over this again during the very long drive to Nashville, but turned around to kick it this time. "Therefore" is a continuation of what went before:

Romans 1:32//who, knowing the righteous judgement of God, that those who practice such things [sexual immorality, wickedness, etc. as listed in verses 29 through 31] are deserving of death, not only do the same but also approve of those who practice them.

To judge is not synonymous with condemn, as it is often used in Christian circles. We get upset when someone "judges" us to be bad in some way, but never when they compliment our hair. You can judge something to be good as well as bad. Webster defines judge as "to form an opinion about through careful weighing of evidence and testing of premises." Good or bad. Right or wrong.

Considering Romans 2:1 as a therefore from 1:32, the danger is in approving behavior, speach, lifestyle, etc. that flies in the face of God's righteous judgement. Then we "practice the same things." If you approve of it, God says, you might as well be doing it.

Two obvious complications with this:

The first is loving people. Disapprove of that which is contrary to God, but love the people doing it. Jesus ate with the worst sinners; the pharisees pointed fingers.

The second exposes the heart. We can disapprove of abortion by voting only for pro-life candidates, but what about the more subtle issues that we don't talk about? What about the things we know we shouldn't say or do, but in our hearts we really don't think are all that bad? Can we disapprove according to the letter of the law, but not in spirit? The fear of the Lord is both the hatred of evil (Pr 8:13) and the beginning of wisdom (Pr 9:10).

I'm not saved

And Pope Benedict XVI said ... ("Amen!")

Pope approved a document released today that says, "Orthodox churches were defective and that other Christian denominations were not true churches," according to an AP article. "...Because they do not have apostolic succession - the ability to trace their bishops back to Christ's original apostles," and "did not have the 'means of salvation.'"

That's right, if you're not attending a Roman Catholic Church, you will be turned away from heaven because your pastor does not have the means of salvation to pass on to you.

What's really ironic is that yesterday, the Barna Research Group released the results of a study of American Catholics. 4000 adults were surveyed to compare 97 facets of life between Catholics and non-Catholics. The study found, among other things, that Catholics ...

... are half as likely to identify their faith as their priority in life.

... donate 17% less money to their local church.

... are 38% less likely to read a Bible.

... are 20% less likely to share their faith.

... are more likely to say that Satan is not real.

... are more likely to argue that Jesus sinned while on earth.

... are more likely to contend that salvation is earned.

That last one gets me, especially compared to the others. Where's Martin Luther when you need him?

in the meantime ...

A lot has happened over the past 40 days.

Everyone that wasn't blogging 40 days ago is blogging now. Mike and Loretta Ingham both entered the blogosphere, as well as Jillian. Marianne started blogging and then quit because China blocks Blogger; she started a Google Page instead. Bianca started one as well, which does not - for the record - make up for her moving to South Carolina.

I discovered an amazing pro-life ministry called Abort 73. I've never seen a website with so much information about abortion. As soon as I can put $14 together, I'll be investing in a t-shirt for sure.

Stop Consuming is a group trying to raise awareness within western Christendom of the gross excess our society continues to gorge itself on. This is one of the many social issues that the Church has shamefully handed over to liberal politics, so I appreciate their trying to take it back.

Relevant Magazine has spun off a women's magazine called Radiant that's pretty stinkin' savvy. It's a Christian women's magazine that actually has some style. There are all kinds of web-only bonuses, like an interview with Joyce Meyers.

Mars Hill Church is not new, but they're new to me. Pastor Mark Driscoll preaches the Bible, straight and unapologetically, to young people in post-grunge Seattle. This church was started in the mid-1990's, has grown by 60% each year since then, and has never spent a dime on advertising. They're known in Seattle as "the punk rock church." There's video on the website; I like it a lot.

The Esther Project #4 is out ... because I had time to write. If you haven't gotten one yet, post a comment in the vein of, "Girl, why ain't I got no EP?" I'll correct your grammar and send one along.

I watched The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc, which was very stressful. I'm kind of a dork, though, in that I really want to read a good biography now so I know better what was real and what was cinematic. If anyone can make a recommendation (because there are several to chose from), I would appreciate it.

Don and Lauree Reed have a cute baby, and I have bragging rights because I got to hold him first. Nah nah na na nah. Taylor:

There are better things to write on. Revelation and powerful happenings, but right now my body is very sore and my head is a little cloudy. Check back with me tomorrow afternoon for better content.

The Call

Joel 2:12-17:
"Now, therefore," says the LORD, "Turn to Me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning." So rend your heart, and not yur garments; return to the LORD your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness; and He relents from doing harm. Who knows if He will turn and relent, and leave a blessing behind Him - a grain offering and a drink offering for the LORD your God?

Blow the trumpet in Zion, consecrate a fast, call a sacred assembly; gather the people, sanctify the congregation, assemble the elders, gather the children and nursing babes; let the bridegroom go out from his chamber, and the bride from her dressing room. Let the priests, who minister to the LORD, weep between the porch and the altar; let them say, "Spare Your people, O LORD, and do not give Your heritage to reproach, that the nations should rule over them."

For 14 hours we repented and forgave, petitioned and promised, mourned and danced. For 14 hours we pressed into the heart of God. Relationships were mended with communities of Native, African, and Latino Americans. Bonds were reforged between parents and children. We heard from Senator Brownback (in person) and George W. Bush (wrote a letter), Mike Bickle, Ron Luce, and Lou Engle. Mostly we prayed - in small circles, from our knees on the concrete step at our feet, or as a corporate body of people passionate to see their nation turn back to God.

Mostly we called upon the living God to beseech His mercies. We stood in turn as representatives of our regions and ethnic backgrounds to repent of the sins of our people and call upon the mercies of our Messiah. It was the first time in a public setting that I've been so aware of His presence and so aware of His omnipotence that I felt ashamed for my head being uncovered.

We stood, sat, knelt, laid, sang, danced, wept, and worshipped for hours in 90+ degree heat, unrelenting sun, and Tennessee-summer humidity. Many had to be carried out of the fray, and some hospitalized as organizers begged the people to drink more water.

Then, after the sun had mercifully set behind the walls of the stadium, and the cool of the night began to settle over us, we sang Be Praised to the One who is worthy and 300 men armed with shofars assembled at the back of the main isle. To the beat of a half dozen drums and under dim stadium lights they made their way to the stage, trumpets raised like swords over their heads. The man on stage talked of the walls of Jericho and one shofar sounded six short blasts. On the seventh, 300 shofars trumpeted and nearly one hundred thousand of God's people erupted in a shout of victory that made that Bible story completely plausible. If the walls of that stadium had been holding us back from our destinies in Christ, they surely would have come down.

I'd been standing on my seat and half a minute into the celebration, lifted my hands to heaven and felt the pleasure of a beautiful Savior like a wave through my spirit. And I wept again.

We're forgiven. We're free. Because our God hears our cries. He doesn't have to, and we're not worthy that He should, but He does because of a love I know with all certainty I will never understand. The spirit of our nation has stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. I guarantee it.