"Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel, and are in no way intimidated by your opponents." - Phil. 1.27-28
"And now Lord, look at their threats, and grant to your servants to speak your word with all boldness, while you stretch out your hand to heal, and signs and wonders are performed through the name of your holy servant Jesus." - Acts 4.29-30
Shoutout to Brian Ng for throwing these my way today as encouragement. I've needed it, as this year of study in seminary has been entirely draining, emptying my well of words and marked by the vertigo that comes with re-orienting my beliefs and assumptions and desires.
Yesterday I listened to a presentation by a prospective new faculty member in my grad school, ACU's Graduate School of Theology. He spoke about the image of a tree depicting the disciplines of theological education (specifically, Schleiermacher's Tree). He affirmed the wisdom of the idea that all areas of study—history, tradition, scripture, missions, etc—are organically connected and feed into each other. But he added another element: that tree must be planted by a stream of water if it is to survive.
"They are like trees
planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in season,
and their leaves do not wither.
In all that they do, they prosper." - Psalm 1.3
From this minister's point of view, the tree of theological education will dry out if it isn't planted in the Stream itself: Ministers in training need to be planted, without fail, in the dirt and soil of the lives of the Christian community of faith and of those for whom Jesus specifically came to save (or, preserve or deliver), because that's where the Stream & Spring of Life is going to be flowing.
This fits especially with the verb in Philippians 1.27 that the NRSV translates "live your live": the root verb πολιτεύω implies living your life as a citizen of the city, partaking in politics, economics, etc. To live in a manner worthy of the gospel, the gospel & gospel-bearers are expected to be acting out the gospel "in one spirit" in everyday dirt.
If we do that, "striving side by side" with those next to us in that dirt, we'll find that "waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water..." (Isaiah 35.6b-7a).
That's what I've found in my church Freedom Fellowship. It is a place in which people from the mayor of the city on down to homeless men struggling to find work can come together for a meal & to sing to their God side by side. All of this new knowledge I gain is thrown into the simple, the everyday, and often the painful at Freedom. It has brought vitality to my old, dry bones, without doubt—but it's also brought a lot of questions and tension. Hate of the ills that bring pain to my brothers and sisters there.
What I hope for is that our boldness in standing firm together will be met by a God who'll stretch out a hand of healing. More on that later.
13 April 2012
04 December 2011
Message in a Labyrinth
"A long season of Surrender to beat Temptation; walking the Path in the Climate that is given."
The cryptic message came to me while walking the Labyrinth on ACU's campus on the morning of my first day of seminary.
A labyrinth is not a maze; you do not have to figure a way out, and you cannot get lost. There is only one path to follow, for as long as you are willing, with one end in mind. But you never know where you will turn. You cannot look too far ahead without losing your place in that moment.
ACU's Labyrinth has a winding path with words like "Faith," "Light," "Sin," etc, around it. You walk through it, stopping at any point for however long you need to do so.
I stopped at "Temptation" first. One of my greatest temptations has been isolation, enjoying the lack of responsibility and drain of energy that comes from living on my own. And that's exactly how much of this first semester of seminary has gone—spending hours on my own in my apartment, in the library, eating on my own. And isolation is exactly where the Accuser brings us to draw out our greater sins.
The very next word I came to was "Surrender," and that cryptic message crystallized: "a long period of Surrender to beat Temptation."
"Surrender to what?" I ask.
I found my answer in After You Believe by N. T. Wright.
See, Surrender entails Obedience, particularly to a new Authority. Obedience is not a one-time decision—it entails thousands of little actions over time, being formed into a new person by the Master. Spontaneity can't do this, but Authenticity can.
What N. T. Wright calls "Eschatalogical Authenticity:" actions which become genuine through practice, and are informed and molded by one's beliefs of what is to come. Specifically for Christians, this means actions taken in light of living within the promise that all of this world will be redeemed, resurrected, restored to God.
"I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ." - Philippians 1.6
It's been extremely difficult to do that this semester, partly because of my isolation. Still I have no church to call home, but I feel like that is changing. I have not had the habits of body that I need to be healthier; I have not had the habits of heart to really be sensitive to people around me; and I have not had the habits of soul to become closer to God every day. Only some days. And I seem to have only had strong habits of mind to learn more about the nature of my God, which I guess is to be expected in seminary. The problem is, if I'm not really doing the healthy habits, it probably means I'm walking in unhealthy ones.
"Part of the problem about authenticity is that virtues aren't the only things that are habit-forming," N. T. Wright warns me. "The more someone behaves in a way that is damaging to self or to others, the more 'natural' it will both seem and actually be."
I need to remember here I'm going, because it will tell me how to act now. I going to a life in Christ. And so, I look to Hamlet and The Lord of the Rings to remind me that obedience, not spontaneous action, creates the habits of Christ in me, and that if I lack one then I should act like I have it anyhow—how else can it become genuine habit?
"assume a virtue, if you have it not...
That to the use of actions fair and good
He likewise gives a frock or livery
That aptly is put on.
Refrain tonight;
And that shall lend a kind of easiness
To the next abstinence; the next more easy;
For use almost can change the stamp of nature,
And either curb the devil, or throw him out,
With wondrous potency." - Hamlet
"The westward road seems easiest. Therefore it must be shunned... Now at this last we must take a hard road, a road unforeseen. There lies our hope, if hope it be. To walk into peril." - Elrond
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost." - Gandalf
As we enter the winter,
Dig your roots deep in the Spring.
By strenuous road he'll make
Heart, Mind, Soul be genuine.
Grace & Peace
The cryptic message came to me while walking the Labyrinth on ACU's campus on the morning of my first day of seminary.
A labyrinth is not a maze; you do not have to figure a way out, and you cannot get lost. There is only one path to follow, for as long as you are willing, with one end in mind. But you never know where you will turn. You cannot look too far ahead without losing your place in that moment.
ACU's Labyrinth has a winding path with words like "Faith," "Light," "Sin," etc, around it. You walk through it, stopping at any point for however long you need to do so.
I stopped at "Temptation" first. One of my greatest temptations has been isolation, enjoying the lack of responsibility and drain of energy that comes from living on my own. And that's exactly how much of this first semester of seminary has gone—spending hours on my own in my apartment, in the library, eating on my own. And isolation is exactly where the Accuser brings us to draw out our greater sins.
The very next word I came to was "Surrender," and that cryptic message crystallized: "a long period of Surrender to beat Temptation."
"Surrender to what?" I ask.
I found my answer in After You Believe by N. T. Wright.
See, Surrender entails Obedience, particularly to a new Authority. Obedience is not a one-time decision—it entails thousands of little actions over time, being formed into a new person by the Master. Spontaneity can't do this, but Authenticity can.
What N. T. Wright calls "Eschatalogical Authenticity:" actions which become genuine through practice, and are informed and molded by one's beliefs of what is to come. Specifically for Christians, this means actions taken in light of living within the promise that all of this world will be redeemed, resurrected, restored to God.
"I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ." - Philippians 1.6
It's been extremely difficult to do that this semester, partly because of my isolation. Still I have no church to call home, but I feel like that is changing. I have not had the habits of body that I need to be healthier; I have not had the habits of heart to really be sensitive to people around me; and I have not had the habits of soul to become closer to God every day. Only some days. And I seem to have only had strong habits of mind to learn more about the nature of my God, which I guess is to be expected in seminary. The problem is, if I'm not really doing the healthy habits, it probably means I'm walking in unhealthy ones.
"Part of the problem about authenticity is that virtues aren't the only things that are habit-forming," N. T. Wright warns me. "The more someone behaves in a way that is damaging to self or to others, the more 'natural' it will both seem and actually be."
I need to remember here I'm going, because it will tell me how to act now. I going to a life in Christ. And so, I look to Hamlet and The Lord of the Rings to remind me that obedience, not spontaneous action, creates the habits of Christ in me, and that if I lack one then I should act like I have it anyhow—how else can it become genuine habit?
"assume a virtue, if you have it not...
That to the use of actions fair and good
He likewise gives a frock or livery
That aptly is put on.
Refrain tonight;
And that shall lend a kind of easiness
To the next abstinence; the next more easy;
For use almost can change the stamp of nature,
And either curb the devil, or throw him out,
With wondrous potency." - Hamlet
"The westward road seems easiest. Therefore it must be shunned... Now at this last we must take a hard road, a road unforeseen. There lies our hope, if hope it be. To walk into peril." - Elrond
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost." - Gandalf
As we enter the winter,
Dig your roots deep in the Spring.
By strenuous road he'll make
Heart, Mind, Soul be genuine.
Grace & Peace
23 July 2011
A Crazy Random Happenstance
Friday I drove to Dallas for my last nose check-up, then went straight to Abilene to look at some of my books for seminary. If you ever see a Greek-English Lexicon, you'll probably never want to go to seminary. I didn't have that feeling, though.
Sitting at Monk's Coffee Shop in Abilene as Rosten Callarman serenades me acoustically, I am met with a Crazy Random Happenstance.
First, some awesome quotes, because I'm a quote junkie.
"for, after all, any man's actions correspond to the habit of perfection attained by him."—John of the Cross
"Sanctification is an impartation, not an imitation."—Oswald Chambers
And, from Scripture: 1 Timothy 1:5b-6
"You know what kind of men we proved to be among you for your sake. And you became imitators of us and of the LORD, for you received the Word in much affliction, with the Joy of the Holy Spirit."
Wait... did the Bible just say we should be imitators, when Oswald Chambers said that imitators aren't truly sanctified, that they only "imitate" and are not genuine in their sanctification?
And does being an "imitator of the LORD" mean it's all up to us to be sanctified? Is sanctification or perfection "attained" by us alone, or is it an "impartation"—a gift—of the Spirit?
I read all of these these when I opened the first book I got for seminary (I'm reading early, figured I might finally be a good student since I'm in grad school) called "After You Believe" by N. T. Wright.
I am only in the introduction for now, but N. T. Wright explains my questions by looking at the rich young ruler and Jesus (Matthew 19:19-30; Mark 10:17-22; Luke 18:18-30).
Here, the rich man asks Jesus what he must DO to gain eternal life (which has a very different meaning to a Jew as it does to a modern Western Christian, but I won't go into that here), and Jesus in the end doesn't give him a set of rules but gets to the man's heart. He knew the rich man was greedy, so he told the rich man to sell all his possessions, give them to the poor, and follow Jesus.
Jesus told the man he needed new character.
Not "Rules" with a capital-R. Not a morally relative statement of "be true to yourself."
Jesus cuts to the heart of why we are here to begin with, which Wright explains can be found in gaining character by way of virtue.
As I go on in Wright's book, and in my Graduate School of Theology work, I'll post more about this because it seems to be extremely relevant to the whole theme and reason I started this blog—to explain my Passion for Christ and His people as I work it out in a Practical manner.
Until then, I'll leave you with another quote I've learned to love recently:
"It is the man who is the missionary, it is not his words. His character is his message."—Henry Drummond
Grace & Peace, ya'll
03 April 2011
Kingdom of Children
"And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ."
—Philippians 1:6
It's an odd thing, coincidence. Particularly because I don't believe in it.
In reading last week, I ran across the afore-quoted verse and wrote it down, for no spectacular reason. Days later, I get a card in the mail from Peggy Richardson, a letter of encouragement from a new friend. Phil. 1:6 is the precise verse that she gave and spoke about as an encouragement for me.
She was talking about God's work and will for me as I go to ACU for a Master of Divinity. She's the great-aunt of my best friend, and we met somewhat randomly at dinner after one of his basketball games over spring break. We both got placed at one end of the table, and what I feared might be an awkward dinner turned into one of the more fulfilling conversations of my life.
God surprises us like that, sometimes. Wouldn't you agree?
From Texas, Peggy's also lived 40 years in New York (professing to be a pizza connoisseur) and loves to travel. She is a three-time cancer survivor. Her husband died a few years ago, and she is mere weeks removed from having a pacemaker put into her heart.
Peggy is thankful for all the good that's been given to her, and she regrets none of the pain. She is ecstatic in the Joy that her pain brings (really, that God brings using pain as the vessel) because she knows it was all a part of God breaking her of her stubbornness, softening her heart, and bringing her to depend upon Him and not herself or something else broken.
So she reminds me: even if God has to wreck me, He will complete the work of bringing me to Him, of reconciling me.
"Come, let us return to the Lord;
For he has torn us, that He may heal us;
He has struck us, and He will bind us up...
Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord;
His going out is sure as the dawn;
He will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth."
—Hosea 6:1 & 3
Presently, that work is humility. I seek knowledge. I seek truth. I seek to be higher and deeper into Him. And through all my seeking, I am walking along a cliff that drops off into conceit.
Even in my continual study of prayer, to know more about the act and the relationship and what it means and what it looks like, I can over-analyze and over-spiritualize every single thing about it and become inordinately focused—a truth my younger sister knows all too well.
So what does God give me, as encouragement?
Mark Driscoll, talking about the first word of the Lord's Prayer in Luke ("Father"):
"Some of you struggle in prayer because you're too focused on prayer. If you want to grow in prayer, don't focus on prayer—get to know the Father... If you want to learn how to pray, don't look to religious people... Look at children with a father who adores them."
And Jesus Christ of Nazareth:
"Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven."
Children terrify me. I think it's because I was always the awkward, outsider nerd as a child. Or felt that way, at least. I feel like I don't know how to connect with them.
On the flip side, I feel like I may not know how to be a child anymore. So then how can I really pray?
Thinking about Peggy, about her life and the journey it has been, I've been wondering much about my future. And I came to an intriguing question.
What if, as my body gets older and older and closer to death, the goal of God's "ministry of reconciliation" in me is to make my spirit younger and younger, more like a child's that is full of life?
"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."—2 Corinthians 5:17
Because if He is to become more and more my Father, then I have to become more and more a child, His child.
And how can I be conceited about anything then, knowing my weakness and helplessness and vulnerability next to His Love and Will and Power?
I think I can become more of a child by being around children.
I think I can become more of a child by living holy, as God is holy.
I think I can become more of a child by inviting God to BE Father, then see what He does.
2 Cor. 6:16-18
as God said, "I will make my dwelling among them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. Therefore go out from their midst, and be separate from them, says the Lord, and touch no unclean thing; then I will welcome you, and I will be a father to you, and you shall be sons and daughters to me, says the Lord Almighty."
—Philippians 1:6
It's an odd thing, coincidence. Particularly because I don't believe in it.
In reading last week, I ran across the afore-quoted verse and wrote it down, for no spectacular reason. Days later, I get a card in the mail from Peggy Richardson, a letter of encouragement from a new friend. Phil. 1:6 is the precise verse that she gave and spoke about as an encouragement for me.
She was talking about God's work and will for me as I go to ACU for a Master of Divinity. She's the great-aunt of my best friend, and we met somewhat randomly at dinner after one of his basketball games over spring break. We both got placed at one end of the table, and what I feared might be an awkward dinner turned into one of the more fulfilling conversations of my life.
God surprises us like that, sometimes. Wouldn't you agree?
From Texas, Peggy's also lived 40 years in New York (professing to be a pizza connoisseur) and loves to travel. She is a three-time cancer survivor. Her husband died a few years ago, and she is mere weeks removed from having a pacemaker put into her heart.
Peggy is thankful for all the good that's been given to her, and she regrets none of the pain. She is ecstatic in the Joy that her pain brings (really, that God brings using pain as the vessel) because she knows it was all a part of God breaking her of her stubbornness, softening her heart, and bringing her to depend upon Him and not herself or something else broken.
So she reminds me: even if God has to wreck me, He will complete the work of bringing me to Him, of reconciling me.
"Come, let us return to the Lord;
For he has torn us, that He may heal us;
He has struck us, and He will bind us up...
Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord;
His going out is sure as the dawn;
He will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth."
—Hosea 6:1 & 3
Presently, that work is humility. I seek knowledge. I seek truth. I seek to be higher and deeper into Him. And through all my seeking, I am walking along a cliff that drops off into conceit.
Even in my continual study of prayer, to know more about the act and the relationship and what it means and what it looks like, I can over-analyze and over-spiritualize every single thing about it and become inordinately focused—a truth my younger sister knows all too well.
So what does God give me, as encouragement?
Mark Driscoll, talking about the first word of the Lord's Prayer in Luke ("Father"):
"Some of you struggle in prayer because you're too focused on prayer. If you want to grow in prayer, don't focus on prayer—get to know the Father... If you want to learn how to pray, don't look to religious people... Look at children with a father who adores them."
And Jesus Christ of Nazareth:
"Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven."
Children terrify me. I think it's because I was always the awkward, outsider nerd as a child. Or felt that way, at least. I feel like I don't know how to connect with them.
On the flip side, I feel like I may not know how to be a child anymore. So then how can I really pray?
Thinking about Peggy, about her life and the journey it has been, I've been wondering much about my future. And I came to an intriguing question.
What if, as my body gets older and older and closer to death, the goal of God's "ministry of reconciliation" in me is to make my spirit younger and younger, more like a child's that is full of life?
"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."—2 Corinthians 5:17
Because if He is to become more and more my Father, then I have to become more and more a child, His child.
And how can I be conceited about anything then, knowing my weakness and helplessness and vulnerability next to His Love and Will and Power?
I think I can become more of a child by being around children.
I think I can become more of a child by living holy, as God is holy.
I think I can become more of a child by inviting God to BE Father, then see what He does.
2 Cor. 6:16-18
as God said, "I will make my dwelling among them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. Therefore go out from their midst, and be separate from them, says the Lord, and touch no unclean thing; then I will welcome you, and I will be a father to you, and you shall be sons and daughters to me, says the Lord Almighty."
07 March 2011
The Painful Smile of Joy
"And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."--John 8:32
How often do you feel trapped and burdened by a lie? Doesn't even need to be a blatant lie, just a lie of omission where you can't bear to be totally honest with someone. I know that I always feel an oppressive weight on my shoulders every time I can't bring myself to be completely honest.
Jesus' words in context from John 8 most certainly meant primarily that Jesus, the Truth, was here to set all men free of sin. Yet I think it is a fact of all truths—they all can be a release of a burden weighing you down.
Even lies that we have believed about ourselves, once we know them to be lies, show a truth about us that allows us to grow in God's wisdom. For instance, I have always been arrogant, but because of constant depression and the lies it told me, I never saw the pride in my heart. But once I saw the depression, it became a truth--the truth that depression is a struggle for me--that set me free from it. Now I can fight it. Because how can I fight what I don't see? Then later I could see the arrogance in my core, and battle that as well.
That's why the first step to recovery is to admit; and to admit something, we have to see it. The truth of the recognition sets us free from the burden and bonds, and God can take control of that part of us—when we give it to Him.
I should caution: honesty is the best way, but context matters here. Without a relationship with someone, or without maturity on their side, and they probably can't take even well-meaning and caring honesty. Let's be honest: we live in a world still permeated by fear and distrust. But as we live together, work together, fellowship together, we create a trust that allows such honesty with grace that it truly frees us.
Yet that freedom does not mean that there is no longer a struggle. Every wound that heals leaves a scar, whether on the body or mind or heart or soul.
Because we are still sinners. We, even in good intention, continue to misunderstand each other. We continue to be held by fear of what we do not know.
We continue to hold our hand on our wounds instead of uncovering it to Christ, or to each other (James 5:16), so that the Great Physician can heal it.
Lord God, Great Savior, break down the walls of our shame.
Shatter the bars of our fear.
Let us run free.
To You, Lord.
Let us smile again.
Part of that freedom comes through forgiveness: 1) by God forgiving us; 2) by us forgiving others; and 3) by realizing that, as we forgive others, we free ourselves from the bitterness and guilt of holding onto whatever pain they caused. Maybe I'll break that down another day; for now, just know that I get those distinctions from the Paternoster ("Our Father" Matt. 6:9-13; Luke 11:2-4) when Jesus says, "forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." It's a command, and a requirement for our forgiveness, leading to deliverance from evil.
There is deliverance in honesty, too.
"Whoever gives an honest answer kisses the lips."--Proverbs 24:26
Honesty implies that we give up the fear of rejection or hurt or the unknown, and we jump out of the boat like Peter did (see Matthew 14:28:29 & John 21:7) because we trust Jesus Christ, the Great Redeemer, to make whole whatever broken attempts I make to serve another.
I see honesty like that in Charles and Glenda Tipps, from my church. Everytime I ask Charles how he is doing, he tells me that he is in pain, and that God takes care of him. Yet he smiles, and you can see both the pain and his joy in his eyes. When I ask them what I can pray for, they say, "Strength;" they are 85 and 84 years old.
The painful truth, spoken through a joyful smile, presents a paradox in which I can only assume divine strength makes it possible.
When I tell them it warms my heart to see them still holding hands out to their car after church, Glenda honestly replies, "Well after 62 years, we have to help each other stand up!"
And I'm sure they do; on the outside they look frail. But anyone with eyes can see that helping each other stand physically is only a by-product of the fact that these two souls continue to find Joy in the freedom that comes from leaning into each other more and more as they both run to God at life's finish line.
And that is our Joy: to run until we get to Him in all of His Glory. To C. S. Lewis, Joy manifests itself to us the way sunlight breaks through clouds. We can't take the full force of God's glory now, but His rays penetrate our lives and cause us to follow the Son-beam back to the Son in adoration. And it makes us thirsty for more of Him.
"It is that unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction," says Lewis. "Anyone who has experienced it will want it again. Apart from that, and considered only in its quality, it might almost equally well be called a particular kind of unhappiness or grief."
"But then it is the kind we want."
Meaning, that Joy of encountering God's glory is itself a desire that cannot be satisfied until we are with Him until eternity. So sometimes, if not most times, being in the presence of God can bring pain.
Remember Isaiah 6, when the angel touched his lips with a burning coal? Yeah, doesn't sound enjoyable. But it did set him free from his "unclean lips" that lied and slandered and gossiped.
And, for now, those islands of Joy that God provides in the stormy seas of our lives must direct us to Him as we hope in His glory. That knowledge must be the fuel of our faith, because His glory means our salvation.
"It (faith) will be counted to us (as righteousness) who believe in Him who raised from the dead Jesus our Lord, who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification. Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through Him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."
--Romans 4:24b-5:5
Because of the freedom found in the "knowing"--the truth--that Jesus brings us, "we rejoice in our sufferings."
As for me I subscribe to the teachings of Luther and Kierkegaard. As for Kierkegaard, he believes that God, who creates everything out of nothing, must first reduce us to nothing if He is to use us.
"God cannot use a man until He hurts him deeply."--Martin Luther
I don't mind what pain comes my way. I know talking about it makes people feel irksome; "What is he, emo? Talking about feelings like that?"
But I am free to talk about my pains, as Charles Tipps is, because I have already given it to Christ. He heals it and brings it back to me as wisdom and faith and Joy, because He has already borne it all Himself.
"Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him;
He has put him to grief...
Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied."
—Isaiah 53: 10, 11
And so, we in Christ can unashamedly bear the painful smile of Joy.
How often do you feel trapped and burdened by a lie? Doesn't even need to be a blatant lie, just a lie of omission where you can't bear to be totally honest with someone. I know that I always feel an oppressive weight on my shoulders every time I can't bring myself to be completely honest.
Jesus' words in context from John 8 most certainly meant primarily that Jesus, the Truth, was here to set all men free of sin. Yet I think it is a fact of all truths—they all can be a release of a burden weighing you down.
Even lies that we have believed about ourselves, once we know them to be lies, show a truth about us that allows us to grow in God's wisdom. For instance, I have always been arrogant, but because of constant depression and the lies it told me, I never saw the pride in my heart. But once I saw the depression, it became a truth--the truth that depression is a struggle for me--that set me free from it. Now I can fight it. Because how can I fight what I don't see? Then later I could see the arrogance in my core, and battle that as well.
That's why the first step to recovery is to admit; and to admit something, we have to see it. The truth of the recognition sets us free from the burden and bonds, and God can take control of that part of us—when we give it to Him.
I should caution: honesty is the best way, but context matters here. Without a relationship with someone, or without maturity on their side, and they probably can't take even well-meaning and caring honesty. Let's be honest: we live in a world still permeated by fear and distrust. But as we live together, work together, fellowship together, we create a trust that allows such honesty with grace that it truly frees us.
Yet that freedom does not mean that there is no longer a struggle. Every wound that heals leaves a scar, whether on the body or mind or heart or soul.
Because we are still sinners. We, even in good intention, continue to misunderstand each other. We continue to be held by fear of what we do not know.
We continue to hold our hand on our wounds instead of uncovering it to Christ, or to each other (James 5:16), so that the Great Physician can heal it.
Lord God, Great Savior, break down the walls of our shame.
Shatter the bars of our fear.
Let us run free.
To You, Lord.
Let us smile again.
Part of that freedom comes through forgiveness: 1) by God forgiving us; 2) by us forgiving others; and 3) by realizing that, as we forgive others, we free ourselves from the bitterness and guilt of holding onto whatever pain they caused. Maybe I'll break that down another day; for now, just know that I get those distinctions from the Paternoster ("Our Father" Matt. 6:9-13; Luke 11:2-4) when Jesus says, "forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." It's a command, and a requirement for our forgiveness, leading to deliverance from evil.
There is deliverance in honesty, too.
"Whoever gives an honest answer kisses the lips."--Proverbs 24:26
Honesty implies that we give up the fear of rejection or hurt or the unknown, and we jump out of the boat like Peter did (see Matthew 14:28:29 & John 21:7) because we trust Jesus Christ, the Great Redeemer, to make whole whatever broken attempts I make to serve another.
I see honesty like that in Charles and Glenda Tipps, from my church. Everytime I ask Charles how he is doing, he tells me that he is in pain, and that God takes care of him. Yet he smiles, and you can see both the pain and his joy in his eyes. When I ask them what I can pray for, they say, "Strength;" they are 85 and 84 years old.
The painful truth, spoken through a joyful smile, presents a paradox in which I can only assume divine strength makes it possible.
When I tell them it warms my heart to see them still holding hands out to their car after church, Glenda honestly replies, "Well after 62 years, we have to help each other stand up!"
And I'm sure they do; on the outside they look frail. But anyone with eyes can see that helping each other stand physically is only a by-product of the fact that these two souls continue to find Joy in the freedom that comes from leaning into each other more and more as they both run to God at life's finish line.
And that is our Joy: to run until we get to Him in all of His Glory. To C. S. Lewis, Joy manifests itself to us the way sunlight breaks through clouds. We can't take the full force of God's glory now, but His rays penetrate our lives and cause us to follow the Son-beam back to the Son in adoration. And it makes us thirsty for more of Him.
"It is that unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction," says Lewis. "Anyone who has experienced it will want it again. Apart from that, and considered only in its quality, it might almost equally well be called a particular kind of unhappiness or grief."
"But then it is the kind we want."
Meaning, that Joy of encountering God's glory is itself a desire that cannot be satisfied until we are with Him until eternity. So sometimes, if not most times, being in the presence of God can bring pain.
Remember Isaiah 6, when the angel touched his lips with a burning coal? Yeah, doesn't sound enjoyable. But it did set him free from his "unclean lips" that lied and slandered and gossiped.
And, for now, those islands of Joy that God provides in the stormy seas of our lives must direct us to Him as we hope in His glory. That knowledge must be the fuel of our faith, because His glory means our salvation.
"It (faith) will be counted to us (as righteousness) who believe in Him who raised from the dead Jesus our Lord, who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification. Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through Him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."
--Romans 4:24b-5:5
Because of the freedom found in the "knowing"--the truth--that Jesus brings us, "we rejoice in our sufferings."
As for me I subscribe to the teachings of Luther and Kierkegaard. As for Kierkegaard, he believes that God, who creates everything out of nothing, must first reduce us to nothing if He is to use us.
"God cannot use a man until He hurts him deeply."--Martin Luther
I don't mind what pain comes my way. I know talking about it makes people feel irksome; "What is he, emo? Talking about feelings like that?"
But I am free to talk about my pains, as Charles Tipps is, because I have already given it to Christ. He heals it and brings it back to me as wisdom and faith and Joy, because He has already borne it all Himself.
"Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him;
He has put him to grief...
Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied."
—Isaiah 53: 10, 11
And so, we in Christ can unashamedly bear the painful smile of Joy.
01 March 2011
More Than Watchmen...
Isaiah 62:6-7a
"On your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen; all the day and all the night they shall never be silent. You who put the Lord in remembrance, take no rest, and give Him no rest until He establishes Jerusalem..."
Micah 7:4b-7
"The day of your watchmen, of your punishment, has come; now their confusion is at hand. Put no trust in a neighbor; have no confidence in a friend; guard the doors of your mouth from her who lies in your arms; for the son treats the father with contempt, the daughter rises up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; a mans enemies are the men of his own house. But as for me, I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me..."
Psalm 130:5-6
"I will wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His Word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning."
I think my fingers are gaining a permanent layer of sticky. The last couple of weeks at Hope Pregnancy I have seen no guy partners, so I and the other volunteers stuffed and stuck addresses on hundreds of envelopes. Busy time for the center, just not for me. Which isn't all bad.
One of the other volunteers said that sometimes we just need a break from the heavy work we do at Hope, and these mindless days are a way to keep us from feeling weighed down by the wonderfully challenging counsels we give. And I can always enjoy a day of the simple.
More than that, on these days it feels that I am able only to pray for clients. Instead of serving them by listening, telling the Good News, and offering information and services for them, I just pray--and I love it. How?
Because I know that I am a watchman, like those in the verses above. Because I love the power I find in prayer.
Don't believe in the "power of prayer"? Well I can't say that belief is easy on this topic, not at all. Which I think makes it worth the struggle. Part of prayer is for us individually, to look to God in good and bad and strength and failure and hardship, then to see our own limitations; He doesn't want to humiliate, He just wants us to see the truth that we must depend on Him. In truth, if we believe the Scriptures then we know that "faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ"--as a gift, so no one can boast (Romans 10:17).
Even if we have received this gift, it is like all other gifts from God in that it must grow if you want to see God's power in it. You have to exercise it, or it will atrophy; you have to eat the food that will sustain it's growth, the Word of God, or it will starve to death.
So we start simple and small with what we can lift for now, then we keep asking God for more faith because we will not be complete until the New Heaven and New Earth. We will always need more. I know, some of us are too proud to ask for these things, especially if we feel like we've already received much from someone. "I've gotten so much more than this person, I'll be fine on my own. I can use what I have to fix my own problems."
Sorry, but even the Greeks knew that man only fixed a problem by creating a bigger one. Why do you think there hasn't yet been a master political plan to fix everything that all people love? Why do you think, with all of the good that even one person can do like Greg Mortenson in the book Three Cups of Tea, do we still have millions of people still enslaved (there are more now than ever before, I believe) and entire governments willing to slaughter their people to stay in power?
Can't fix it ourselves, guys, so God gives us prayer as a way to take part essentially in His Creation. Think about it--if God is outside of time, then He heard and answered our prayers at the same moment that He created everything. Sometimes it seems He maneuvers world events to answers those prayers, and sometimes it's Him actively intervening in our time. He does answer prayers, even through scientific breakthroughs that some use to debunk the idea of God, and those answered prayers change the world.
And if we're weak prayers, know this: God has placed watchmen in the walls, in positions to defend people and be open to outsiders and see what comes from the horizon, to pray night and day for us. More than that, He sends us His Spirit to cry out to Him for us! God is praying for us to God!
And I feel called by that Spirit within me to be like a watchman. My Myers-Briggs Personality Type is the Counselor (INFJ), which is described as one who engages people deeply to share their burdens and help them grow. God tells watchmen to basically pester Himself with prayers for His children. So I pray night and day, waiting with absolute assurance of God who will shine through brighter than any morning sun cutting through the clouds and reflecting off snow-covered mountains. And I couldn't love it more.
**by the way, read that book Three Cups of Tea. It will challenge your perspective on global politics, on Pakistan & Afghanistan, and on the influence that even one person without any seeming resources can "randomly" have on thousands of lives.
"On your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen; all the day and all the night they shall never be silent. You who put the Lord in remembrance, take no rest, and give Him no rest until He establishes Jerusalem..."
Micah 7:4b-7
"The day of your watchmen, of your punishment, has come; now their confusion is at hand. Put no trust in a neighbor; have no confidence in a friend; guard the doors of your mouth from her who lies in your arms; for the son treats the father with contempt, the daughter rises up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; a mans enemies are the men of his own house. But as for me, I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me..."
Psalm 130:5-6
"I will wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His Word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning."
I think my fingers are gaining a permanent layer of sticky. The last couple of weeks at Hope Pregnancy I have seen no guy partners, so I and the other volunteers stuffed and stuck addresses on hundreds of envelopes. Busy time for the center, just not for me. Which isn't all bad.
One of the other volunteers said that sometimes we just need a break from the heavy work we do at Hope, and these mindless days are a way to keep us from feeling weighed down by the wonderfully challenging counsels we give. And I can always enjoy a day of the simple.
More than that, on these days it feels that I am able only to pray for clients. Instead of serving them by listening, telling the Good News, and offering information and services for them, I just pray--and I love it. How?
Because I know that I am a watchman, like those in the verses above. Because I love the power I find in prayer.
Don't believe in the "power of prayer"? Well I can't say that belief is easy on this topic, not at all. Which I think makes it worth the struggle. Part of prayer is for us individually, to look to God in good and bad and strength and failure and hardship, then to see our own limitations; He doesn't want to humiliate, He just wants us to see the truth that we must depend on Him. In truth, if we believe the Scriptures then we know that "faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ"--as a gift, so no one can boast (Romans 10:17).
Even if we have received this gift, it is like all other gifts from God in that it must grow if you want to see God's power in it. You have to exercise it, or it will atrophy; you have to eat the food that will sustain it's growth, the Word of God, or it will starve to death.
So we start simple and small with what we can lift for now, then we keep asking God for more faith because we will not be complete until the New Heaven and New Earth. We will always need more. I know, some of us are too proud to ask for these things, especially if we feel like we've already received much from someone. "I've gotten so much more than this person, I'll be fine on my own. I can use what I have to fix my own problems."
Sorry, but even the Greeks knew that man only fixed a problem by creating a bigger one. Why do you think there hasn't yet been a master political plan to fix everything that all people love? Why do you think, with all of the good that even one person can do like Greg Mortenson in the book Three Cups of Tea, do we still have millions of people still enslaved (there are more now than ever before, I believe) and entire governments willing to slaughter their people to stay in power?
Can't fix it ourselves, guys, so God gives us prayer as a way to take part essentially in His Creation. Think about it--if God is outside of time, then He heard and answered our prayers at the same moment that He created everything. Sometimes it seems He maneuvers world events to answers those prayers, and sometimes it's Him actively intervening in our time. He does answer prayers, even through scientific breakthroughs that some use to debunk the idea of God, and those answered prayers change the world.
And if we're weak prayers, know this: God has placed watchmen in the walls, in positions to defend people and be open to outsiders and see what comes from the horizon, to pray night and day for us. More than that, He sends us His Spirit to cry out to Him for us! God is praying for us to God!
And I feel called by that Spirit within me to be like a watchman. My Myers-Briggs Personality Type is the Counselor (INFJ), which is described as one who engages people deeply to share their burdens and help them grow. God tells watchmen to basically pester Himself with prayers for His children. So I pray night and day, waiting with absolute assurance of God who will shine through brighter than any morning sun cutting through the clouds and reflecting off snow-covered mountains. And I couldn't love it more.
**by the way, read that book Three Cups of Tea. It will challenge your perspective on global politics, on Pakistan & Afghanistan, and on the influence that even one person without any seeming resources can "randomly" have on thousands of lives.
25 February 2011
Adoration, & 24 Hours of Prayer
Luke 7:37-38, 50
And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that [Jesus] was reclining at table in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment... And he said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
Last Thursday my church held 24 Hours of Prayer & Fasting. I was part of the onset, up from midnight til dawn before catching an hour of sleep and going to class. Class all day, including finishing a paper, then another hourlong nap before joining those in prayer for the last five hours at the church.
That morning, I fell asleep when reading from my prayer journal laying down, and it hit me in the face. That night, when things were wrapping up, I thought I would pray for a couple more minutes. When I woke up, half and hour had gone by and I literally could not stand up. I tried so hard, I'm serious, but my legs had fallen asleep! I felt like I was in a scene straight out of Bambi...
Friday I still had a headache from lack of sleep, food, and hydration. And it was totally worth it. Sitting in that quiet chapel with good friends trickling in and out, singing, bowing, kneeling, weeping, laughing--it was pure, unadulterated Joy.
I'm serious about my Joy.
In the previous post, I mentioned that I had been brought up before the church to explain a skit that my college group does. It was "merely" a fun skit, meant for laughter. When I was done, my preacher then asked, "So there was no point?" I stepped back up to the microphone and said:
"It is a shadow of the Joy we will have in Heaven."
I mentioned previously my struggle with Pride, and this was certainly one of those moments--wishing to bask in the rays of sunshine coming from people's praise of my witty and "deep" reply. Thank God, I admitted that I stole the idea completely from C. S. Lewis. Foree had seen the skit as silly; Lewis would have replied to him like this:
"I do not think that the life of Heaven bears any analogy to play or dance in respect to frivolity... Dance and game are frivolous, unimportant things down here; for 'down here' is not their natural place. Here, they are a moment's rest from the life we were placed here to live. But in this world everything else is upside down. That which, if it could be prolonged here, would be a truancy, is likest that which in a better country is the End of ends. Joy is the serious business of Heaven."
I felt like basking in the heat from people's praise, but it was only a shadow, and it wasn't directed where it was supposed to be--toward God. Even in crediting C. S. Lewis for the idea, to my shame I did not direct people's attention to God myself; I can only hope the Spirit did. Because the things that we call "pleasures" are "shafts of the Glory" that strike our senses. God's glory IS our Joy, a Son-beam striking us until we praise and worship and adore His Most Holy Name (Romans 5:2).
That's why the woman was weeping in Luke 7. That's why she cleaned Christ's feet. That's why she anointed Him. Being in the Presence, the Glory, of the God-man, she became acutely aware of two things--His righteousness, which showed her complete brokenness, and His merciful Love, which saved and cleaned and sanctified and justified her. And she had no choice to worship Him, especially through tears.
That's the thing about Joy. It's not a happy pill. It can hurt. But it's a heart-ache that is purely God changing us from the inside out, creating His life in us that leads us into Adoration. We are saved by faith, but we adore because, when we come into contact with who God is, we have no choice. To thank Him for what He's done. To praise Him for who He is. Regardless of whatever dirt or baggage or guilt we feel in us.
"For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, 'Abba! Father!' The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God..."--Romans 8:15-16
The Spirit bears witness. God Himself bears witness to God that we are His, so who are we to say we are not good enough? He has lifted us up into His presence. "Heaven drew earth up into it." And so we adore.
And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that [Jesus] was reclining at table in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment... And he said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
Last Thursday my church held 24 Hours of Prayer & Fasting. I was part of the onset, up from midnight til dawn before catching an hour of sleep and going to class. Class all day, including finishing a paper, then another hourlong nap before joining those in prayer for the last five hours at the church.
That morning, I fell asleep when reading from my prayer journal laying down, and it hit me in the face. That night, when things were wrapping up, I thought I would pray for a couple more minutes. When I woke up, half and hour had gone by and I literally could not stand up. I tried so hard, I'm serious, but my legs had fallen asleep! I felt like I was in a scene straight out of Bambi...
Friday I still had a headache from lack of sleep, food, and hydration. And it was totally worth it. Sitting in that quiet chapel with good friends trickling in and out, singing, bowing, kneeling, weeping, laughing--it was pure, unadulterated Joy.
I'm serious about my Joy.
In the previous post, I mentioned that I had been brought up before the church to explain a skit that my college group does. It was "merely" a fun skit, meant for laughter. When I was done, my preacher then asked, "So there was no point?" I stepped back up to the microphone and said:
"It is a shadow of the Joy we will have in Heaven."
I mentioned previously my struggle with Pride, and this was certainly one of those moments--wishing to bask in the rays of sunshine coming from people's praise of my witty and "deep" reply. Thank God, I admitted that I stole the idea completely from C. S. Lewis. Foree had seen the skit as silly; Lewis would have replied to him like this:
"I do not think that the life of Heaven bears any analogy to play or dance in respect to frivolity... Dance and game are frivolous, unimportant things down here; for 'down here' is not their natural place. Here, they are a moment's rest from the life we were placed here to live. But in this world everything else is upside down. That which, if it could be prolonged here, would be a truancy, is likest that which in a better country is the End of ends. Joy is the serious business of Heaven."
I felt like basking in the heat from people's praise, but it was only a shadow, and it wasn't directed where it was supposed to be--toward God. Even in crediting C. S. Lewis for the idea, to my shame I did not direct people's attention to God myself; I can only hope the Spirit did. Because the things that we call "pleasures" are "shafts of the Glory" that strike our senses. God's glory IS our Joy, a Son-beam striking us until we praise and worship and adore His Most Holy Name (Romans 5:2).
That's why the woman was weeping in Luke 7. That's why she cleaned Christ's feet. That's why she anointed Him. Being in the Presence, the Glory, of the God-man, she became acutely aware of two things--His righteousness, which showed her complete brokenness, and His merciful Love, which saved and cleaned and sanctified and justified her. And she had no choice to worship Him, especially through tears.
That's the thing about Joy. It's not a happy pill. It can hurt. But it's a heart-ache that is purely God changing us from the inside out, creating His life in us that leads us into Adoration. We are saved by faith, but we adore because, when we come into contact with who God is, we have no choice. To thank Him for what He's done. To praise Him for who He is. Regardless of whatever dirt or baggage or guilt we feel in us.
"For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, 'Abba! Father!' The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God..."--Romans 8:15-16
The Spirit bears witness. God Himself bears witness to God that we are His, so who are we to say we are not good enough? He has lifted us up into His presence. "Heaven drew earth up into it." And so we adore.
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