Obedience is better than sacrifice. Better than tithes. Better than financial offerings. Better than volunteering my every spare moment.
Three lessons in obedience in the past couple days.
One
During worship Friday night I was supposed to wait longer. I was supposed to encourage anyone there who did not yet speak in tongues, but wanted to, to trust God and open their mouths and speak. I was supposed to make a way, and I didn't. I found out later who it was for and repented. I pray that one will come back again, and that that gift will be received soon.
Nothing that I sacrificed - my time, finances, effort, passions - measure up to what I lost in that moment of disobedience because 24 hours later someone should be praying in the Spirit and she's not. I'm forgiven, sure, but that doesn't mean there aren't consequences.
Two
I really want to write a book about my experiences in Missouri in 2001. My freshman year of college and Pancake City. I've got stories for a book and, I believe, the ability to write them well. I think it would be really good. I got really, really excited about it. Four pages are done and saved on my hard drive right now.
But it in no way glorifies God. I've reasoned with my spirit that if it were wildly successful it could launch the writing career I've been secretly praying for and everything thereafter certainly would glorify God. I've reasoned that should some success come from it, I would make every effort to point back to Jesus. I've reasoned that if some profit came from it, I'd obviously tithe and then some.
But if writing is a gift, it's from God and it's meant for His glory alone. Not mine. Not Pancake City's. Do I want to glorify God with my talent, or become successful according to the world?
"What if I don't want you to be a successful writer?" He asked me that yesterday. Now, I believe that He wants me to use whatever gift He's put inside of me, and I believe He wants me to do well. But I still struggle with the hypothetical. What if? What if that's not what He wants me to do? Am I okay with that? Am I willing to walk away because He says so? How obedient am I?
Three
What if God asks you to break the rules? Not the law. Not His rules. My rules. What if I make a rule about qualifications for a position, a good rule, and He makes an exception? What if there's something bigger that He wants to do in or through someone and it requires breaking one of my rules?
Can I stand against criticisms (not from anyone in authority over me, because that's rebellion and that's different)? Can I stand before accusations of hypocrisy and do what He wants me to do? Where I've established excellence, can I sacrifice my reputation?
I think I've come to terms very recently with the last one. Number two is still really hurting me. I covet your prayers on that front.
There's more on this, but I'll save it for another day lest this become a novel.
1 Samuel 15:22b-23a//Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams. For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, And stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
lessons from the garden, chapter 2
"Waiting."
1. A seed has to take root before it can show up above ground. Every day for the first week I check and double-check my rows and nothing. I know I did everything right, though, so I wait. And wait. And wait. And then one morning:
2. Clearing one problem will often make room for another one. We removed a lot of grass and the ants where very thankful. In no time, the patch of dirt destined to be a lush, fruitful garden was crawling with ants. Overcoming fear may open a door for pride. Overcoming pride may open a door for false humility (which is pride).
(And beware the counter-attack. I literally blasted a swarm of ants out of the garden and days later cannot keep them out of the kitchen sink.)
3. Weeding is tricky while you're waiting for a seed to grow. Some things are obviously weeds, but some are harder to tell. Especially if you're growing something new and you're not familiar with what the seedling looks like. As much as you want to pull out the weeds while they're small, sometimes you have to let them grow until you know for sure what you're pulling.
Weeding at this point becomes not fun really quickly. It starts out as a relaxing exercise, and a good excuse to put on shorts and be in the sunshine. With a lot of dirt and little actual crop sprouting, though, it gets tiresome in short order. You start to wonder why weeds grow so easily and crops take their time.
4. Draw your battle lines and defend them to the death (of the grass). Carving out a rough rectangle of dirt is good, but it helps immensely to clearly draw the lines. Timothy hauled some pieces from another part of the yard over to outline the garden a couple days ago. Not only does it look better, I now know where the grass is supposed to be and where it's not. I don't have to worry about getting carried away and killing too much grass around the edge, and I don't have an excuse to get lazy and let the grass slowly creep back in.
Draw your battle lines. Write them down. Post them on your mirror or fridge and hold the line like you would in a war. Because you're in a war. Timothy and I do not watch R-rated movies unless the rating is only for war-related violence. That's one of our lines. There have been movies that we really wanted to see, but we hold the line. We start with a 10% tithe and round up every month. There have been months that have been really, really hard to round up, but it's one of our battle lines.
5. Finally, remember that it's by faith and patience that we inherit the promises. Translation: when you've done all you can do, take a nap.
1. A seed has to take root before it can show up above ground. Every day for the first week I check and double-check my rows and nothing. I know I did everything right, though, so I wait. And wait. And wait. And then one morning:
2. Clearing one problem will often make room for another one. We removed a lot of grass and the ants where very thankful. In no time, the patch of dirt destined to be a lush, fruitful garden was crawling with ants. Overcoming fear may open a door for pride. Overcoming pride may open a door for false humility (which is pride).
(And beware the counter-attack. I literally blasted a swarm of ants out of the garden and days later cannot keep them out of the kitchen sink.)
3. Weeding is tricky while you're waiting for a seed to grow. Some things are obviously weeds, but some are harder to tell. Especially if you're growing something new and you're not familiar with what the seedling looks like. As much as you want to pull out the weeds while they're small, sometimes you have to let them grow until you know for sure what you're pulling.
Weeding at this point becomes not fun really quickly. It starts out as a relaxing exercise, and a good excuse to put on shorts and be in the sunshine. With a lot of dirt and little actual crop sprouting, though, it gets tiresome in short order. You start to wonder why weeds grow so easily and crops take their time.
4. Draw your battle lines and defend them to the death (of the grass). Carving out a rough rectangle of dirt is good, but it helps immensely to clearly draw the lines. Timothy hauled some pieces from another part of the yard over to outline the garden a couple days ago. Not only does it look better, I now know where the grass is supposed to be and where it's not. I don't have to worry about getting carried away and killing too much grass around the edge, and I don't have an excuse to get lazy and let the grass slowly creep back in.
Draw your battle lines. Write them down. Post them on your mirror or fridge and hold the line like you would in a war. Because you're in a war. Timothy and I do not watch R-rated movies unless the rating is only for war-related violence. That's one of our lines. There have been movies that we really wanted to see, but we hold the line. We start with a 10% tithe and round up every month. There have been months that have been really, really hard to round up, but it's one of our battle lines.5. Finally, remember that it's by faith and patience that we inherit the promises. Translation: when you've done all you can do, take a nap.
Monday, June 23, 2008
what fun
Some fun stuff for you:
Bored with Google? Viewzi is a pretty sweet new search engine. I really dig the Screen Shot view. My only gripe is that it's not quite as fast.
I saw this ad recently that really inspired me. The top of the page says "Imagine a president who stands for this." It then quotes Matthew 25:35-36. I was excited. I went to the website. I am now infuriated. What a scam.
This is a sweet shot of a tornado by a woman in Orchard, IA:
Kiva is a cool organization that links you to entrepreneurs in developing countries. You make short-term (about six month) "micro loans" to help them get their businesses off the ground, and they pay you back. (And then you loan your $25 to someone else.) Pretty cool.
The Jesus film is going anime:
Apparently the old film is visually outdated. Remaking the whole film, however, means re-translating it into something like a million languages. This way they can use the same audio. Watch the clip and then take the survey to help them out.
I want some of these.
And there's this cool website that makes word clouds for you. You pick the font, general layout, and a color scheme. Below are two I made (in about 30 seconds). The first is Revelation 4 and the second is the Sermon on the Mount. Cool.
Bored with Google? Viewzi is a pretty sweet new search engine. I really dig the Screen Shot view. My only gripe is that it's not quite as fast.
I saw this ad recently that really inspired me. The top of the page says "Imagine a president who stands for this." It then quotes Matthew 25:35-36. I was excited. I went to the website. I am now infuriated. What a scam.
This is a sweet shot of a tornado by a woman in Orchard, IA:
Kiva is a cool organization that links you to entrepreneurs in developing countries. You make short-term (about six month) "micro loans" to help them get their businesses off the ground, and they pay you back. (And then you loan your $25 to someone else.) Pretty cool.
The Jesus film is going anime:
Apparently the old film is visually outdated. Remaking the whole film, however, means re-translating it into something like a million languages. This way they can use the same audio. Watch the clip and then take the survey to help them out.
I want some of these.
And there's this cool website that makes word clouds for you. You pick the font, general layout, and a color scheme. Below are two I made (in about 30 seconds). The first is Revelation 4 and the second is the Sermon on the Mount. Cool.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
in God we trust?
Here's a thought that I had ... while gardening (although it has nothing to do with gardening, that's tomorrow).Christians like to adamantly defend the phrase "In God We Trust" on U.S. currency. We got all upset when we thought it wasn't on the new dollar coins. We say passionate things like, "When they take 'In God We Trust' off the money, I'm moving out of the country." (Which is strange to say anyway, because which country would you move to? No other nation that I know of has "In God We Trust" on their money, so the grass isn't really greener anywhere else is it?)
Why?
We want our country to recognize our God, sure. We want to ... what? ... honor God by "trusting" Him, in print, on our monies?
I wonder if God wants to be on our money.
Hear me out.
When you take a fifth grade class on a field trip, you sometimes put them all in the same shirt - with the school's name on it - so you can pick them out of a crowded museum. Or when a high school jazz band goes to compete, they're all wearing their school name. What do the teachers always tell them? They're supposed to not only fulfill the purpose of the day (attend the museum, do well at the competition, etc.), but they're supposed to be on their best behavior. Why? Because they are representing your school.
Similar phenomenon when Christians do silly things that are contrary to the word of God - like protest the funerals of homosexuals or military persons. They stand there in the name of Christianity, spewing hatred and all things not Christ-like, and I don't know about you but it irritates me. Because by association they are making me look bad. Non-Christians in this country think Christians are judgmental and hypocritical more than anything else.
So I wonder about God. I wonder if He looks at the United States of America as a collective body and sees
- The remorseless killing of 4000 babies every day
- Adultery that's as prevalent in the Church as without
- A pornography industry that makes more money than four major sports franchises combined
- The legalization of homosexual marriage
Obviously, the best solution would be to get the laws of our land back to a place that honor God, but given scores of prophecies about the last days ... I mean I hate to be negative, but ...
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
lessons from the garden, chapter 1
"Preparing the Soil"
My mom used to have a cute little wall hanging in her house that said, "I'm closer to God in my garden than anywhere else on earth." (If you started to make a theological argument in your head when you read that, you need to take a deep breath before reading further.)
I (dramatic pause) have a garden. My dad killed a patch of grass in our back yard, and last Saturday my wonderful husband tilled it up. I've had many blissful hours since then in the patch of dirt that was left behind.
And you know how it is hanging out with Jesus: everything becomes an object lesson. So here we go.
Well, wait. Before we begin allow me to explain some Christian jargon to any non-Christians who may be reading. Jesus liked to compare the Word of God (the written one and the words Jesus spoke day after day) to a seed. Because He's good with analogies, He, then, commonly referred to our hearts as the soil said seed was planted in to bring forth gorgeous plants and delicious foods (i.e. peace, love, joy, kindness, patience, etc.). K? So there's an unspoken moral to this silliness.
Here we go. What I learned about myself while starting a garden:
1. It's much harder to start a new garden than to start a new season in the garden that my mom has been cultivating for years. A lot harder, and for obvious reasons.
2. It's impossible to till up live grass. It's simply too resilient. Sometimes things are perfectly normal and perfectly fine need to die so you can get to good soil.
3. It's still hard to till up dead grass. God bless my wonderful husband. He tilled and raked and tilled and raked and then I think tilled a third time. Just getting to fresh soil, where a seed can be safely planted, is half the battle.
And it needs to be done way ahead of time. You can't chose the day you want to plant and go out that day to kill the grass. The grass took a week to die and tilling it up took most of the morning. If the soil hadn't been prepared ahead of time, the seed wouldn't grow.
4. Doing your best means you will get dirty. Despite all the labor that had already gone into it, I spent a day and a half on my knees, digging up the dirt with my hands and a small garden spade. The garden might have grown alright if I hadn't, but I really got down to the good dirt.
5. Purity is key/anything can be a weed. If I say "weed" you think - well, alright, some of you think of drugs but past that - of dandelions and thistles. In a cultivated garden, though, anything besides what is planted is a weed. The grass that was normal - even necessary - a few weeks ago is now a weed, so all of it has to come out lest it spread ... like a weed.
6. You have to tend the whole thing. My strategy was to dig up a two-foot wide strip and then plant something, and then dig up the next two feet and plant something. Each thin row of seed needs to be a foot to a foot-and-a-half apart.
After a couple rows the temptation was to leave the soil between the rows and just dig up and purify the thin strip where I was going to plant. I thought about it for a minute and then realized that if I don't take care of the soil between the rows, whatever is still rooted there will grow up and I'll have to deal with it later. Later, however, it will have recovered from three tillings and be more rooted and I'll have to be more careful not to kill the veggies growing next to it.
7. Know your enemies and show no mercy. Earthworms are not your enemies. Quite the contrary. Earthworms aerate the soil and plants like aerated soil. Earthworms are you friends. Beetle larvae, however, are not your friends. They will eventually become beetles and likely eat your veggies. The earthworms I was careful to spare. The beetle larvae I threw into the street.
There you go. I'm sure there will be more lessons as things start to grow and harvesting kicks in. I know, I know, you're on the edge of your seat but you'll just have to wait.
My mom used to have a cute little wall hanging in her house that said, "I'm closer to God in my garden than anywhere else on earth." (If you started to make a theological argument in your head when you read that, you need to take a deep breath before reading further.)
I (dramatic pause) have a garden. My dad killed a patch of grass in our back yard, and last Saturday my wonderful husband tilled it up. I've had many blissful hours since then in the patch of dirt that was left behind.
And you know how it is hanging out with Jesus: everything becomes an object lesson. So here we go.
Well, wait. Before we begin allow me to explain some Christian jargon to any non-Christians who may be reading. Jesus liked to compare the Word of God (the written one and the words Jesus spoke day after day) to a seed. Because He's good with analogies, He, then, commonly referred to our hearts as the soil said seed was planted in to bring forth gorgeous plants and delicious foods (i.e. peace, love, joy, kindness, patience, etc.). K? So there's an unspoken moral to this silliness.
Here we go. What I learned about myself while starting a garden:
1. It's much harder to start a new garden than to start a new season in the garden that my mom has been cultivating for years. A lot harder, and for obvious reasons.
2. It's impossible to till up live grass. It's simply too resilient. Sometimes things are perfectly normal and perfectly fine need to die so you can get to good soil.
3. It's still hard to till up dead grass. God bless my wonderful husband. He tilled and raked and tilled and raked and then I think tilled a third time. Just getting to fresh soil, where a seed can be safely planted, is half the battle.
And it needs to be done way ahead of time. You can't chose the day you want to plant and go out that day to kill the grass. The grass took a week to die and tilling it up took most of the morning. If the soil hadn't been prepared ahead of time, the seed wouldn't grow.
4. Doing your best means you will get dirty. Despite all the labor that had already gone into it, I spent a day and a half on my knees, digging up the dirt with my hands and a small garden spade. The garden might have grown alright if I hadn't, but I really got down to the good dirt.
5. Purity is key/anything can be a weed. If I say "weed" you think - well, alright, some of you think of drugs but past that - of dandelions and thistles. In a cultivated garden, though, anything besides what is planted is a weed. The grass that was normal - even necessary - a few weeks ago is now a weed, so all of it has to come out lest it spread ... like a weed.
6. You have to tend the whole thing. My strategy was to dig up a two-foot wide strip and then plant something, and then dig up the next two feet and plant something. Each thin row of seed needs to be a foot to a foot-and-a-half apart.
After a couple rows the temptation was to leave the soil between the rows and just dig up and purify the thin strip where I was going to plant. I thought about it for a minute and then realized that if I don't take care of the soil between the rows, whatever is still rooted there will grow up and I'll have to deal with it later. Later, however, it will have recovered from three tillings and be more rooted and I'll have to be more careful not to kill the veggies growing next to it.
7. Know your enemies and show no mercy. Earthworms are not your enemies. Quite the contrary. Earthworms aerate the soil and plants like aerated soil. Earthworms are you friends. Beetle larvae, however, are not your friends. They will eventually become beetles and likely eat your veggies. The earthworms I was careful to spare. The beetle larvae I threw into the street.
There you go. I'm sure there will be more lessons as things start to grow and harvesting kicks in. I know, I know, you're on the edge of your seat but you'll just have to wait.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
warning
It's been almost a week and the wake left by whatever tore through our neighborhood last Thursday morning is still obvious.Across the street, our neighbors' fence is still in shambles. A dozen yard waste bags stand at attention along the curb, and the stump near the street is still fresh.
At the other end of the block, someone's tree remains obviously amputated and ashamed next to the porch it accidentally destroyed. It's future is uncertain. Part of the roof is still missing, and logs line the street for the width of the block.
Windshields have been replaced. Gutters are being repaired, and every day when I come home I stare up at the dead branch hanging precariously at the very top of our injured tree. I'd rather it fall when no one is around than have to pay someone to pull it down.
My parents live in McHenry - a good 30 minutes north - and we laughed about their non-response to the tornado siren that went off Thursday morning. They live blocks away from the fire department, so sirens are not uncommon.
Coworkers, friends, church family have all shared stories of bunkering down in basements and pantries at the sound of the alarms in Crystal Lake, Lake in the Hills, Dundee, and Cary. No one has destruction stories to rival ours, but we're also the only ones who never heard a siren.
I've had prophetic words spoken over/at me for years. You hang out with people who believe the New Testament and it happens. One has stuck with me more than the others for a little over two years now, and it had to do with being a siren - the air raid kind, not the nude mermaid kind. If there was one that I could say with all certainty was the word of the Lord it was that one.
And to an extent it's true of all Christians. Our job is to prepare the way. We're an army of John the Baptists. We're the voices in the wilderness that, when everything looks lost, speak truth.
Our neighborhood was the hardest hit, and we were the only ones who did not hear a siren. I was talking to Holy Spirit about the irony of it and he stopped me in my tracks:
"Be ready."
Tornado sirens are tested on the first Tuesday of every month at 10 AM. We're all used to it. We hardly flinch when they go off during staff meetings or classes. The first Tuesday of the month at 10 AM, however, is not the purpose of the siren.
The purpose of the siren is to warn people of the coming danger. Said siren could nail every first Tuesday of the month at 10 AM with stunning accuracy, and still ultimately fail, rendering itself useless, if it doesn't go off when danger is imminent.
Be ready.
In Matthew 24, Jesus is talking to His disciples. Verse three even says they came to Him privately. He wasn't talking to the church leaders. He wasn't talking to the masses. He was talking to the twelve, and in verse 42 He says, "Watch therefore, for you do not know what hour your Lord is coming."
Matthew 24:44//Therefore you also be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
wreckage
It was 1:30 on Thursday morning when a freight train rolled through the neighborhood:
The next morning:
There are more pictures here.
What began as a mysteriously long gust of wind soon shook the whole house and the noise it made was one of the most terrifying things I've ever heard. We got up and started looking out windows, as best we could through the rain.
I got around to the small window at the end of the living room and saw much of our big, lush, beautiful tree laying in the street. Thank God it was in the street and not on our house.
Everyone was out on the street in the light rain. Fire trucks showed up quickly because a power line was laying in the street. People were mourning gutters, windshields, fences, porches, boats, roofs, etc. Timothy and I were and are unspeakably thankful that nothing on our corner was damaged.
One neighbor said he checked the weather and "the worst is yet to come." I've never ever ever been afraid of storms before, but I was afraid that night. Every time the sky lit up I'd wake up and listen for thunder to determine if it was coming closer. It was crazy.
Just before we went back inside to try to sleep (ha!) Timothy decided to move the cars further up the driveway. He got in mine and as soon as he turned it on Misty Edwards shouted at him "as in the days of Noah so it will be in the days of the coming of the Son of Man ..." I half expected a voice to boom from the heavens, "This has been a public service announcement from the Omega."
Because as we walked up and down the block talking to people and surveying the damage and trying to shake the horrifying noise from my memory our conversation, every few minutes, would fall silent and one of us would admit, "It's only going to get worse."
"And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled; for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be famines, pestilences, and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of sorrows." Matthew 24:6-8
"For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now. Not only that, but we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body." Romans 8:22-23
The next morning:
There are more pictures here.
What began as a mysteriously long gust of wind soon shook the whole house and the noise it made was one of the most terrifying things I've ever heard. We got up and started looking out windows, as best we could through the rain.
I got around to the small window at the end of the living room and saw much of our big, lush, beautiful tree laying in the street. Thank God it was in the street and not on our house.
Everyone was out on the street in the light rain. Fire trucks showed up quickly because a power line was laying in the street. People were mourning gutters, windshields, fences, porches, boats, roofs, etc. Timothy and I were and are unspeakably thankful that nothing on our corner was damaged.
One neighbor said he checked the weather and "the worst is yet to come." I've never ever ever been afraid of storms before, but I was afraid that night. Every time the sky lit up I'd wake up and listen for thunder to determine if it was coming closer. It was crazy.
Just before we went back inside to try to sleep (ha!) Timothy decided to move the cars further up the driveway. He got in mine and as soon as he turned it on Misty Edwards shouted at him "as in the days of Noah so it will be in the days of the coming of the Son of Man ..." I half expected a voice to boom from the heavens, "This has been a public service announcement from the Omega."
Because as we walked up and down the block talking to people and surveying the damage and trying to shake the horrifying noise from my memory our conversation, every few minutes, would fall silent and one of us would admit, "It's only going to get worse."
"And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled; for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be famines, pestilences, and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of sorrows." Matthew 24:6-8
"For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now. Not only that, but we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body." Romans 8:22-23
Thursday, June 12, 2008
conversation
I got to hang out with Jen for a bit after the service last night. She's headed out to CO for the summer, early Saturday morning. *tear*
Jen's one of those wonderful people who seems to just pop in and out of your life every so often to give you a little boost. A little reminder of what you're doing and probably a little reminder of why too.
We talked about how expensive Starbucks is because you really pay for the experience and the logo more than you do for the coffee. We talked about pre-ground coffee being of the devil. Like dancing.
We talked about simple things like our siblings and lofty ideals like vacations.
We talked about the expression of Christianity in the west versus the rest of the world. We talked about "to whom much is given much will be required." We talked about persecution and how deeply our own convictions really go. We talked about pain. We talked about stained glass. We talked about Constantine, but that's between her and I.
We talked about the rapture and the tribulation. We talked about 2 Thessalonians and Matthew 24. We talked about seals and trumpets and bowls and famines and cyclones and earthquakes. We talked about the next couple decades.
Then we went to my (new) house and watched The Star of Bethlehem. If you haven't seen this yet, let me know and you can come over some time. We talked about Revelation and astrology and constellations. We talked about omnipotence and eternity. We talked about Adam in the garden and came up with some really good questions for Jesus.
What the heck is firmament anyway?
How do we know the names of the constellations? Did You name them or did we? You talk about them in Job, but if You named them who did You tell their names to? Did Adam know them? Did Adam name the animals in the garden after them? Which bear came first: the animal or the constellation?
How many species were on the ark with Noah? You said two of every kind, so are there more now than there were B.C.?
How do you do that thing were Old Testament prophecy regards both the immediate future of the prophet in his time, and the end of days?
And then it was late and Jen left.
Jen's one of those wonderful people who seems to just pop in and out of your life every so often to give you a little boost. A little reminder of what you're doing and probably a little reminder of why too.
We talked about how expensive Starbucks is because you really pay for the experience and the logo more than you do for the coffee. We talked about pre-ground coffee being of the devil. Like dancing.
We talked about simple things like our siblings and lofty ideals like vacations.
We talked about the expression of Christianity in the west versus the rest of the world. We talked about "to whom much is given much will be required." We talked about persecution and how deeply our own convictions really go. We talked about pain. We talked about stained glass. We talked about Constantine, but that's between her and I.
We talked about the rapture and the tribulation. We talked about 2 Thessalonians and Matthew 24. We talked about seals and trumpets and bowls and famines and cyclones and earthquakes. We talked about the next couple decades.
Then we went to my (new) house and watched The Star of Bethlehem. If you haven't seen this yet, let me know and you can come over some time. We talked about Revelation and astrology and constellations. We talked about omnipotence and eternity. We talked about Adam in the garden and came up with some really good questions for Jesus.
What the heck is firmament anyway?
How do we know the names of the constellations? Did You name them or did we? You talk about them in Job, but if You named them who did You tell their names to? Did Adam know them? Did Adam name the animals in the garden after them? Which bear came first: the animal or the constellation?
How many species were on the ark with Noah? You said two of every kind, so are there more now than there were B.C.?
How do you do that thing were Old Testament prophecy regards both the immediate future of the prophet in his time, and the end of days?
And then it was late and Jen left.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
let's rebel
Sitting in my family's Luthern-ish church last week for my great-grandma's funeral was enlightening as usual. I think those of us at exciting churches should visit these kinds of churches once in a while. I'm convinced that the greatest threat to the western church isn't porn or pot, it's ourselves.
I sat as one of the co-pastors read a poem or a cute story or something and looked at the small, stained-glass windows. I like stained glass. It's pretty. I couldn't help but wonder, though, what a Chinese Christian would think of it. Or a 2nd-century Roman Christian. We're so blessed with our religious freedoms.
But what do we do with our religious freedoms? Cloister? Offend people?
Her husband shared stories about grandma (which I hope to get to tomorrow), and then the wife co-pastor got up to close the service. "Our Christian faith was made for times like these."
Yes, she did.
"Our Christian faith was made for times like these." Times like what? Death? Sorrow? This is what faith is for? Christ shed the glories of heaven, came to earth as a man, overcame every temptation, suffered the most excruciating death known to humankind, visited hell, rose from the dead, and left for heaven after charging His followers with the responsibility of loving the gospel more than their own lives ... for this? To help us get over the grief of temporarily losing a loved one? To comfort me? God gives to each a "measure of faith" so we can believe that Jesus is the risen Messiah and feel better at a funeral?
Maybe I've been listening to too much of Zahnd's Not for Sissies series lately, or maybe it has something to do with my reading Watchman Nee and Jesus Freaks and VOM at the same time, but I have to respectfully disagree that this is what our Christian faith was "made" for.
Yes there is comfort, and yes there is hope. Yes, because of my faith and the faith I know my grandma had on earth, I didn't shed a tear. Yes, my faith made the day easier to get through, but that is not what it's for.
My Christian faith is for redemption. My redemption, the redemption of my family and friends, the redemption of my neighborhood and my community, and ultimately the redemption of creation.
My Christian faith is for transformation. My transformation, the transformation of my family and friends, the transformation of my neighborhood and my community, and ultimately the transformation of creation. I died in Adam, but by faith I was crucified in Christ and I am only now become what I was meant to be.
My Christian faith is for revolution. A revolution that will love in the midst of hate, give in the midst of greed, and serve in the midst of selfishness. A revolution that will restore the supernatural and the spiritual to the gospel, and exalt the Cross over comfort.
I sat as one of the co-pastors read a poem or a cute story or something and looked at the small, stained-glass windows. I like stained glass. It's pretty. I couldn't help but wonder, though, what a Chinese Christian would think of it. Or a 2nd-century Roman Christian. We're so blessed with our religious freedoms.
But what do we do with our religious freedoms? Cloister? Offend people?
Her husband shared stories about grandma (which I hope to get to tomorrow), and then the wife co-pastor got up to close the service. "Our Christian faith was made for times like these."
Yes, she did.
"Our Christian faith was made for times like these." Times like what? Death? Sorrow? This is what faith is for? Christ shed the glories of heaven, came to earth as a man, overcame every temptation, suffered the most excruciating death known to humankind, visited hell, rose from the dead, and left for heaven after charging His followers with the responsibility of loving the gospel more than their own lives ... for this? To help us get over the grief of temporarily losing a loved one? To comfort me? God gives to each a "measure of faith" so we can believe that Jesus is the risen Messiah and feel better at a funeral?
Maybe I've been listening to too much of Zahnd's Not for Sissies series lately, or maybe it has something to do with my reading Watchman Nee and Jesus Freaks and VOM at the same time, but I have to respectfully disagree that this is what our Christian faith was "made" for.
Yes there is comfort, and yes there is hope. Yes, because of my faith and the faith I know my grandma had on earth, I didn't shed a tear. Yes, my faith made the day easier to get through, but that is not what it's for.
My Christian faith is for redemption. My redemption, the redemption of my family and friends, the redemption of my neighborhood and my community, and ultimately the redemption of creation.
My Christian faith is for transformation. My transformation, the transformation of my family and friends, the transformation of my neighborhood and my community, and ultimately the transformation of creation. I died in Adam, but by faith I was crucified in Christ and I am only now become what I was meant to be.
My Christian faith is for revolution. A revolution that will love in the midst of hate, give in the midst of greed, and serve in the midst of selfishness. A revolution that will restore the supernatural and the spiritual to the gospel, and exalt the Cross over comfort.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
following
(Go here.)
Unrelated:
It's been Lessons in Leadership for me this week. Most recently, in the art of following.
Because you can't have authority until you learn to submit to authority, right? The wonderful cycle of submitting to authority and using authority just never ends. I can honestly say that being in a leadership role has probably made me a much better follower.
And the lessons in following have extended to others recently. Not just any "others," either (that rolls off the tongue, huh?) - some of my dearest others. Which has had me really mulling and praying over it for days. I've come to one conclusion, so here it is, my be-a-good-follower tip of the day:
Philippians 2:14//Do all things without complaining or disputing.
That's not a heavy-handed order. I really think that's the call to discipleship and servanthood (which is what this whole thing is about anyway). If we're serving God, then we're serving the people He puts over us, and I think our relationships with those people should be marked by Philippians 2:14. Joke, suggest, emote, share, muse ... just don't complain and don't argue.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
the leader
Jesus is so nice to me.
We've been kind of arguing lately. By arguing I mean I've been asking Him questions - one in particular - and He's been very quiet. I know that there's a reason, but sometimes a straight answer to a simple question would just be nice. Sometimes I'd really like to not grow through any experience or anything like that, and just get a simple answer to a simple question. Then I get frustrated and it's kind of like arguing.
I'm not going to elaborate because it would sound like a shallow plea for pity, but that's the emotion in my heart right now. Love struggling to be patient through serious frustration. That's the backdrop.
In the meantime, at work, I've been asked to condense my notes on 20 books that I've read in the past year into one-page summaries. Bullet points and a couple good quotes. "Talking points," they've been called. Can do.
It's been an interesting opportunity to review some really good material that I went through rather quickly. Transforming Church, Breakout Churches, Good to Great, The Contrarian's Guide to Leadership... Really good stuff. Most of it is about leadership and/or ministry, so naturally I'm reviewing it all through the eyes of a youth leader.
About a week into this project I am convinced I'm a terrible leader. Surveying the general condition of those things which I have been placed in leadership of, I've had a couple of really bad evenings in the past week (and sure, part of that is PMS, but not all of it). (Here again, I forbid you from tempting my ego by posting anything to the contrary in the comments. Don't make me disable the comments again.)
So I've been praying for myself lately, which alerted me to potentially part of my problem: I hardly ever pray for myself. That's not to brag - because it's really not a very good thing - it's just the way I am. I talk to Holy Spirit throughout the day, so when it's "prayer time," I just forget to pray for myself. But if I'm not praying for me on a regular basis, who is?
*crickets*
Exactly.
So I've been praying for myself lately, that God would help me in this and make me a better leader. We were talking about it on the way to work this morning and He solved it for me. "You're not the leader, Lex, I am. You're just one of the first ones in line."
(And, of course, He was talking about my specific situation. Considering the global body of Christ over the past 2000 years, I'm one of the last in line.)
And that did it for me. I'm just one of the first ones in line. I follow the people ahead of me as they follow Jesus, and the people behind me do the same. If someone ahead of me veers away from the path Jesus is laying out, then it's my responsibility to look up and stay on the right path. That's so simple. This is going to sound silly, but Jesus is brilliant.
We've been kind of arguing lately. By arguing I mean I've been asking Him questions - one in particular - and He's been very quiet. I know that there's a reason, but sometimes a straight answer to a simple question would just be nice. Sometimes I'd really like to not grow through any experience or anything like that, and just get a simple answer to a simple question. Then I get frustrated and it's kind of like arguing.
I'm not going to elaborate because it would sound like a shallow plea for pity, but that's the emotion in my heart right now. Love struggling to be patient through serious frustration. That's the backdrop.
In the meantime, at work, I've been asked to condense my notes on 20 books that I've read in the past year into one-page summaries. Bullet points and a couple good quotes. "Talking points," they've been called. Can do.
It's been an interesting opportunity to review some really good material that I went through rather quickly. Transforming Church, Breakout Churches, Good to Great, The Contrarian's Guide to Leadership... Really good stuff. Most of it is about leadership and/or ministry, so naturally I'm reviewing it all through the eyes of a youth leader.
About a week into this project I am convinced I'm a terrible leader. Surveying the general condition of those things which I have been placed in leadership of, I've had a couple of really bad evenings in the past week (and sure, part of that is PMS, but not all of it). (Here again, I forbid you from tempting my ego by posting anything to the contrary in the comments. Don't make me disable the comments again.)
So I've been praying for myself lately, which alerted me to potentially part of my problem: I hardly ever pray for myself. That's not to brag - because it's really not a very good thing - it's just the way I am. I talk to Holy Spirit throughout the day, so when it's "prayer time," I just forget to pray for myself. But if I'm not praying for me on a regular basis, who is?
*crickets*
Exactly.
So I've been praying for myself lately, that God would help me in this and make me a better leader. We were talking about it on the way to work this morning and He solved it for me. "You're not the leader, Lex, I am. You're just one of the first ones in line."
(And, of course, He was talking about my specific situation. Considering the global body of Christ over the past 2000 years, I'm one of the last in line.)
And that did it for me. I'm just one of the first ones in line. I follow the people ahead of me as they follow Jesus, and the people behind me do the same. If someone ahead of me veers away from the path Jesus is laying out, then it's my responsibility to look up and stay on the right path. That's so simple. This is going to sound silly, but Jesus is brilliant.
Monday, June 02, 2008
the body
"I AM."
Sometimes I forget that's God speaking, not me.
I remember hearing or reading a story recently about a young Asian athlete. This girl messed up at - I believe - an Olympic competition. Through her tears immediately afterward, she could be heard to lament not for her own loss or pain, but for the embarrassment and the disappointment she brought to her family and her country.
It's vague, I know, but the moral I perceived stuck with me.
Americans are very individualistic people. Anyone can see why; individualism sells more stuff. When you, personally, are supposed to be the most beautiful, the most affluent, the smartest, the most desired, etc. it doesn't matter if your best friend has one you can borrow or use - you need one for yourself. Whatever it is. Individualism, ego, and pride sell stuff.
I wonder sometimes how much of that mentality has corrupted the Church in America. I think it's worse than we initially nod our heads at. I think we're so used to it that we think it's normal, and we don't always realize how self-focused we really are. I think that's why that story struck me, because that would not have been the source of my despair.
Yes, I know that God knew me before the foundations of the world. I know that He numbers the hairs on my head, and is familiar with every tear I've ever cried. I know. And it's important to know, and to teach, that God knows us personally and loves us personally.
Sometimes, though ... I wonder if we know it too much.
What about the body of Christ? What about the disciples not knowing want because each gave what he had to the Church, and the Church gave to each what he needed? What about bearing one another's burdens? I don't think that applies only to prayer.
Sometimes I wonder if we become so focused on our ministries, our callings, our anointings, and what God is doing in and through us as individuals that we don't see ourselves as part of the body. We know we are, but do we really believe it?
Do we wonder how our driving habits impact our neighbors' impressions of the Church? Do we wonder how we could serve our local church more? When we have a little extra money, do we indulge ourselves or do we ask God who to give it to?
Do we see ourselves as the body of Christ first and individuals second, or vise versa? Because isn't that servanthood? Isn't that being a "slave of all?" Putting everyone - even if it's "everyone" collectively - before self?
Sometimes I forget that's God speaking, not me.
I remember hearing or reading a story recently about a young Asian athlete. This girl messed up at - I believe - an Olympic competition. Through her tears immediately afterward, she could be heard to lament not for her own loss or pain, but for the embarrassment and the disappointment she brought to her family and her country.
It's vague, I know, but the moral I perceived stuck with me.
Americans are very individualistic people. Anyone can see why; individualism sells more stuff. When you, personally, are supposed to be the most beautiful, the most affluent, the smartest, the most desired, etc. it doesn't matter if your best friend has one you can borrow or use - you need one for yourself. Whatever it is. Individualism, ego, and pride sell stuff.
I wonder sometimes how much of that mentality has corrupted the Church in America. I think it's worse than we initially nod our heads at. I think we're so used to it that we think it's normal, and we don't always realize how self-focused we really are. I think that's why that story struck me, because that would not have been the source of my despair.
Yes, I know that God knew me before the foundations of the world. I know that He numbers the hairs on my head, and is familiar with every tear I've ever cried. I know. And it's important to know, and to teach, that God knows us personally and loves us personally.
Sometimes, though ... I wonder if we know it too much.
What about the body of Christ? What about the disciples not knowing want because each gave what he had to the Church, and the Church gave to each what he needed? What about bearing one another's burdens? I don't think that applies only to prayer.
Sometimes I wonder if we become so focused on our ministries, our callings, our anointings, and what God is doing in and through us as individuals that we don't see ourselves as part of the body. We know we are, but do we really believe it?
Do we wonder how our driving habits impact our neighbors' impressions of the Church? Do we wonder how we could serve our local church more? When we have a little extra money, do we indulge ourselves or do we ask God who to give it to?
Do we see ourselves as the body of Christ first and individuals second, or vise versa? Because isn't that servanthood? Isn't that being a "slave of all?" Putting everyone - even if it's "everyone" collectively - before self?
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