Sometimes, it is so good to be reminded --
that the job that I do every day --
the every-day routines that seem so mundane:
waking up before 6 --
washing lipstick off of mugs --
tamping down espresso --
making change --
it matters.
It's about more than getting people their caffeine
So that they de-zombify.
It's about more than getting a paycheck,
More than having a respectable job.
It's about creating a space
Where people feel safe
To walk in and answer honestly
When we ask: Hey, how're you doing?
It's about bringing people together
As they see each other over and over
So they start to see each other
And to ask questions.
What's your name?
What do you do?
It's about facilitating opportunities
For people to get to know each other
To let down their walls
To search.
To find.
To be found.
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Thursday, October 16, 2014
This belongs to my Father... so why would I be afraid?
The past two weeks all of my Bible studies have seemed to be of a piece -- which, I know, should not surprise me at all. And I'm not surprised, exactly, but it's beautiful, and timely.
In Exodus with BCCC and HopePres, we've discussed/argued/wrestled with the idea of God's sovereignty. How can you not, looking at the exodus and seeing His might -- and wondering about why He left them in slavery for 400 years? It's all unfathomable to us when we try to answer the why questions... but it's taught so clearly. We've talked about Job, too, about looking to Who, not why.
Then at CBS, we've been studying 1 John, where he hammers away (over and over and over...) at the dangerous lie of gnosticism, the insidious creeping of the Platonic notion that the spiritual is pure and the material is tainted, evil.
Last night, with my little group from HopePres, we sat around in Jake's living room, discussing creation, God's sovereignty and goodness, the eschaton, how gnosticism still rears its head in the popular escapist culture of Left Behind.
It's amazing, elegant, how the beginning plays the whole way through to the end. How what we believe about the creation (Did God really make it? Was it really good? Is it still good?) informs how we live now, what we look forward to in the end times.
There were three things that our conversation last night made me think about.
The first is Paul's words to the Athenians, telling them that the unknown God they were worshipping is the Creator and Lord of everything. That He doesn't need anything from them -- but rather He has ordained all of history, "allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place," creating humans in His image so that "they might feel their way toward Him and find Him."
Those words in turn always remind me of a quote from the movie adaptation of City of Joy.
Over all these thoughts, over all of the news stories of ebola and WMDs, of death and devastation, the words of the hymn This is My Father's World echo in my heart. It is all His, and He is all good, and so I can trust that nothing in creation will be able to tear me out of His hand. Come what may, I can live with confidence and joy.
In Exodus with BCCC and HopePres, we've discussed/argued/wrestled with the idea of God's sovereignty. How can you not, looking at the exodus and seeing His might -- and wondering about why He left them in slavery for 400 years? It's all unfathomable to us when we try to answer the why questions... but it's taught so clearly. We've talked about Job, too, about looking to Who, not why.
Then at CBS, we've been studying 1 John, where he hammers away (over and over and over...) at the dangerous lie of gnosticism, the insidious creeping of the Platonic notion that the spiritual is pure and the material is tainted, evil.
Last night, with my little group from HopePres, we sat around in Jake's living room, discussing creation, God's sovereignty and goodness, the eschaton, how gnosticism still rears its head in the popular escapist culture of Left Behind.
It's amazing, elegant, how the beginning plays the whole way through to the end. How what we believe about the creation (Did God really make it? Was it really good? Is it still good?) informs how we live now, what we look forward to in the end times.
There were three things that our conversation last night made me think about.
The first is Paul's words to the Athenians, telling them that the unknown God they were worshipping is the Creator and Lord of everything. That He doesn't need anything from them -- but rather He has ordained all of history, "allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place," creating humans in His image so that "they might feel their way toward Him and find Him."
Those words in turn always remind me of a quote from the movie adaptation of City of Joy.
Maybe the world is meant to break your heart.And doesn't it, though? Both with the grievous sorrows that our hearts can't stand up to and the bright joys that we can't bear?
Over all these thoughts, over all of the news stories of ebola and WMDs, of death and devastation, the words of the hymn This is My Father's World echo in my heart. It is all His, and He is all good, and so I can trust that nothing in creation will be able to tear me out of His hand. Come what may, I can live with confidence and joy.
Monday, October 6, 2014
Re-Creation: attempt at synthesis of recent illustrations
Remember the day, Love
when You molded man of earth
bent down and breathed Your life into him?
Remember the love that spun out
Flung flagrantly through creation
Wefted into the singing universe's fabric?
And yet history tears and twists
Under the cutting weight of the damning record:
Rebellious subjects, a whoring bride.
We fled from You to the muddiest pits
Forming images of ourselves to proclaim our glory
Defiling Your image and defying Your authority.
We clung to these idols, gave them our breath
Offered our lives to make them grow strong
Glutted them with our children's souls.
After such sin, what forgiveness?
Think now -- oh my God.
What hope of homecoming, of reconciliation?
And yet You bring all stories full circle
Bending low to become a second Adam
God incarnate, Logos in flesh.
Dying to ransom our forsworn souls
From the crushing maw of death
Overturning the enemy's schemes with divine irony.
Resurrecting as guarantee of our future
Rest on the seventh day, Light on the first
Breathing new life into our stone hearts.
Finally comes the call, a reiteration
Giving the mission to Your restored image-bearers
To carry Your glory into all creation.
For this, Triune God, I'll forever worship:
That You still look on all you have made
And joyfully claim that it is Yours and is good.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Aggravating the Sin of Discontentment
Two points from The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment that I've been thinking over recently.
The more palpable and remarkable the hand of God appears to bring about an affliction, the greater is the sin of murmuring and discontentment under an affliction.
So yeah -- when I can't understand why something is happening, because it makes no sense to me -- maybe then I should take a lesson from Job and close my mouth, trusting that of course God is working.
To be discontented though God has been exercising us for a long time under afflictions, yet still to remain discontented [is a great sin]... So when you are first a Christian and newly come into the work of Christ, perhaps you make a noise and cannot bear affliction, but are you an old Christian and yet will you be a murmuring Christian? Oh, it is a shame for any who are old believers, who have been a long time in the school of Jesus Christ, to have murmuring and discontented spirits.
So I pray to be a better student.
The more palpable and remarkable the hand of God appears to bring about an affliction, the greater is the sin of murmuring and discontentment under an affliction.
So yeah -- when I can't understand why something is happening, because it makes no sense to me -- maybe then I should take a lesson from Job and close my mouth, trusting that of course God is working.
To be discontented though God has been exercising us for a long time under afflictions, yet still to remain discontented [is a great sin]... So when you are first a Christian and newly come into the work of Christ, perhaps you make a noise and cannot bear affliction, but are you an old Christian and yet will you be a murmuring Christian? Oh, it is a shame for any who are old believers, who have been a long time in the school of Jesus Christ, to have murmuring and discontented spirits.
So I pray to be a better student.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Hebrews
We live in the time of the fullness of the revelation of God.
Although we are utterly undeserving of the least scrap of His grace,
unworthy of even the common mercies upon which our continued existence constantly depends,
meriting only His outpoured wrath --
The eternal, infinite, righteous, holy God calls us near.
Calls us children.
Calls us beloved.
And knowing that it is utterly impossible for us to cross the chasm that we created,
that cut us off from Him,
God made a way for us.
Old Testament believers also lived in the grace of God,
yet He did not grant to them to see the outcome of their faith,
choosing instead to provide something better for us.
We live in the age of the in-between,
bearing witness to the coming of Christ
which was foreshadowed by all of the signs and sacrifices under the old covenant.
At the same time we, like the saints who came before, are called to live by faith;
to acknowledge that we are strangers and aliens in this world,
pilgrims on a long road who press on to gain the heavenly reality of the city of God.
Although we once were condemned rebels
we are called to confident communion with our Creator.
Our fitting response to His grace is wholehearted, reverent worship;
to leave all that hinders us behind,
to look to the joy
to listen to His voice,
and to run unwavering toward Him.
We do this not in our own strength,
but surrounded by the faithful witnesses of a long legacy of grace,
in genuine, costly community with our brothers and sisters.
We follow Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith
The Pioneer of our path.
Our end is dependent on the same grace as our beginning:
the generous, abundant provision of God in equipping us
with everything good to do His will,
working in us that which is pleasing in His sight
through Jesus Christ
to the ultimate end of His glory forever.
Although we are utterly undeserving of the least scrap of His grace,
unworthy of even the common mercies upon which our continued existence constantly depends,
meriting only His outpoured wrath --
The eternal, infinite, righteous, holy God calls us near.
Calls us children.
Calls us beloved.
And knowing that it is utterly impossible for us to cross the chasm that we created,
that cut us off from Him,
God made a way for us.
Old Testament believers also lived in the grace of God,
yet He did not grant to them to see the outcome of their faith,
choosing instead to provide something better for us.
We live in the age of the in-between,
bearing witness to the coming of Christ
which was foreshadowed by all of the signs and sacrifices under the old covenant.
At the same time we, like the saints who came before, are called to live by faith;
to acknowledge that we are strangers and aliens in this world,
pilgrims on a long road who press on to gain the heavenly reality of the city of God.
Although we once were condemned rebels
we are called to confident communion with our Creator.
Our fitting response to His grace is wholehearted, reverent worship;
to leave all that hinders us behind,
to look to the joy
to listen to His voice,
and to run unwavering toward Him.
We do this not in our own strength,
but surrounded by the faithful witnesses of a long legacy of grace,
in genuine, costly community with our brothers and sisters.
We follow Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith
The Pioneer of our path.
Our end is dependent on the same grace as our beginning:
the generous, abundant provision of God in equipping us
with everything good to do His will,
working in us that which is pleasing in His sight
through Jesus Christ
to the ultimate end of His glory forever.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
9/11: reflections
It's been thirteen years since 9/11, and four or five since I asked people to write their memories of that day for a project that I was doing in college. I had been struck by what a vivid and vulnerable topic it remained to so many other students; the event that first caused us to really be aware of the world.
Many people wrote on similar themes: where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the news; how hard it was to believe it, to reconcile what was happening with what we believed about America; how life changed in the days after yet remained oddly normal; how they saw God's hand at work. And through it all, grief and hope. Many said that they had never written about it before, which didn't surprise me -- it came up in conversations often in college, but it was almost taboo. It was a memory that still hurt. But many who wrote also expressed the importance of remembering and seemed glad to have a way to talk about what had happened and to reflect on ways that it had changed their world. So here are a few pieces of responses. I'd love to hear your thoughts and memories, too.
I was in Bible class and I overheard someone just mention that the towers had collapsed and I laughed out loud-- thinking, I can't believe someone would believe that! (oh jeez.)
Many people wrote on similar themes: where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the news; how hard it was to believe it, to reconcile what was happening with what we believed about America; how life changed in the days after yet remained oddly normal; how they saw God's hand at work. And through it all, grief and hope. Many said that they had never written about it before, which didn't surprise me -- it came up in conversations often in college, but it was almost taboo. It was a memory that still hurt. But many who wrote also expressed the importance of remembering and seemed glad to have a way to talk about what had happened and to reflect on ways that it had changed their world. So here are a few pieces of responses. I'd love to hear your thoughts and memories, too.
I was in Bible class and I overheard someone just mention that the towers had collapsed and I laughed out loud-- thinking, I can't believe someone would believe that! (oh jeez.)
I didn’t understand completely what was going on, they were talking about a terrorist attack, and showing video of smoke and fire from the 1st of the trade center towers. In 6th grade you don’t know what terrorism is. I saw an unfortunate accident of some kind unfolding in New York City. Next period [our teacher] had the same channel on. On my way from one class to the next in those 5 minutes someone had crashed another plane into the 2nd of the towers. I was beginning to understand the meaning of terrorism.
I have never written anything about 9/11, but I did commemorate it in different ways. Days after the attack, I secretly took newspapers and magazines talking about the attack and what was going on, making a folder of news clippings and a magazine to keep for myself as a little time capsule, to never let me forget.
I guess it did make me see America as a bit more vulnerable than I had previously thought it to be. I mean, I grew up feeling like we were completely secure and like most kids my age, believing nothing bad could happen on American soil.
This did make the world seem small and very intertwined.
I sat down at the small, black and white TV in the kitchen and watched, horrified and disbelieving. Occasionally, I had to look up from the TV and check my surroundings to be sure I was awake and that I wasn't just watching a terrible made-for-TV movie...
Tears ran down my cheeks and my stomach clenched as I watched frantic people call from upper floors of the towers and finally become so desperate as to jump to their deaths rather than face whatever horrors were going on behind them. I at once felt my own helpless impotence and profound thankfulness that my loved ones and I were safely away from such horrifying scenes of death and destruction.
When the towers fell, when the Pentagon reports came, when the plane crashed in a Pennsylvania field, I watched but I couldn't comprehend it. This sort of thing did not happen to us, to Americans. We were immune, weren't we?
I knew, of course, that we as a nation, as a world, were changed forever, though on that day my mind was too stunned to realize it consciously.
I remember being in a kind of shock... it was all so surreal in a terrifying way and I really didn't know how to cope with it. The result is that I ended up burying a LOT of memories from that day, which is why my description is kind of... well, short and vague.
Those following days were also striking visually for me. I love to look at the sky and I was struck by the absence of jet trails and the quietness of the heavens, as if they finally got a break from the screaming engines.
The picture of the planes were on the television. I sank in a chair and could only remember that it was not long ago that I was working in that tower. The many men and women that had been laughed with over a luncheon...in discussions with over details of work needing implementation...rode up and down the elevator with...were suddenly flooding my mind as I realized that many of them were now gone!
Mom was giving the girls instructions and laughing with them about something. "Hey honey," she said as Dad walked in.
"Have you read the news today?" he asked soberly.
"No."
"Well, I can see that. If you had, you wouldn't be laughing." I remember those words as clearly as though it were yesterday. But it was just one little moment of interruption. I was a happy, naive eight-year-old and I was so far away from all of that. I didn't see a picture of it, or news coverage or anything until years later.
After 9/11 the world became a more fearful place. Nobody's safety can be guaranteed. Of course, that was already true before 9/11; we Americans just didn't think that way about the world. We believed in American exceptionalism, an unexamined faith without foundations. Now we must think another way.
We rushed to our friend's house and sat with her and prayed as first one tower then the other collapsed. I caught her before she hit the floor in total and utter despair. We watched, we cried, we prayed. And then the phone rang.
It was her husband. He was safe. He got out before the tower he was in fell.
Every anniversary of nine eleven has been moving and what touched me the most were the volunteers that helped.
That night I began to realize this was a time the world would never go back to what it had been before - that things would never feel as safe as before.
I saw in disbelief as we watched the towers fall.
Went home. Normal everyday things continued to happen. Homeschool, hanging laundry, etc. But everything seemed surreal and in slow motion. I went to work the next day, but only stayed a short time. There was too much angst, and it was more important to be home with my family.
Probably the best thing that came out of this really horrible situation was that this was the first time I had ever really been faced with a life situation that had the potential to drastically change my life-circumstances and even possibly lead to death.
It humanized people globally for me.
I’ve reflected on that question I asked myself early on during that morning of 9/11 – what kind of a world will my kids grow up in? Ultimately the answer is the same as it was before 9/11 – a fallen world being redeemed by a holy, gracious and loving Father. The Bible talks about the creation groaning as in the pangs of child birth. Those pangs were especially strong that day – but we know that those pangs are the precursor to the birth of a new heavens and a new earth, where Christ shall reign in glory and power for ever and ever. For me, that hope was intensified on 9/11, and so I pray with renewed fervor – “Amen. Come Lord Jesus”.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
A Truth Not Self-Evident
Maybe it's sufficient to say that lately, I've been musing on the subtle dangers of thinking that only the things that are self-evident are truths. My reason is fallen, twisted. The tracks that my thoughts run on are warped, crooked, still built on sometimes treacherous ground. My emotions, too, are not reliable; things that seem sure at one time look obviously foolish later on.
Lately, contentment (or the lack thereof) has been a commonly recurring subject in conversations, in sermons, in books. How quickly we are swayed from looking to Christ, from seeing the goodness of God in all of life, and how prone we are to focusing on ourselves. We comfort ourselves with things that sound like truth but are clever lies. "I can be thankful because [fill in the blank with whatever 'worse thing'] has not happened."
No.
That is not why I can be thankful.
I can be thankful, can be content, in any circumstance, because God is good. Not because something worse hasn't happened. Certainly, it is right and fitting that I thank God for the abundant blessings that He has flooded me with -- but even these good things, the obvious things, the self-evident blessings can become idols.
Ultimately, God alone is the good that I need, the foundation and end of my contentment and gratitude. And that is a truth which is not self-evident to my mind, tainted idol-factory that it is. It's a truth that I need to be reminded of, over and over again.
One thing have I asked of the Lord,
that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to inquire in His temple...
You have said, "Seek My face."
My heart says to You,
"Your face, Lord, do I seek."
{Psalm 27:4, 8}
This is what I want to be true of me, that there will be one thing that I am asking and seeking for, one response that I give. God commands, invites me to seek Him, and promises over and over that those who seek Him wholeheartedly will find Him.
That is not a self-evident truth. It's grace.
It's grounds for contentment in all circumstance.
Lately, contentment (or the lack thereof) has been a commonly recurring subject in conversations, in sermons, in books. How quickly we are swayed from looking to Christ, from seeing the goodness of God in all of life, and how prone we are to focusing on ourselves. We comfort ourselves with things that sound like truth but are clever lies. "I can be thankful because [fill in the blank with whatever 'worse thing'] has not happened."
No.
That is not why I can be thankful.
I can be thankful, can be content, in any circumstance, because God is good. Not because something worse hasn't happened. Certainly, it is right and fitting that I thank God for the abundant blessings that He has flooded me with -- but even these good things, the obvious things, the self-evident blessings can become idols.
Ultimately, God alone is the good that I need, the foundation and end of my contentment and gratitude. And that is a truth which is not self-evident to my mind, tainted idol-factory that it is. It's a truth that I need to be reminded of, over and over again.
One thing have I asked of the Lord,
that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to inquire in His temple...
You have said, "Seek My face."
My heart says to You,
"Your face, Lord, do I seek."
{Psalm 27:4, 8}
This is what I want to be true of me, that there will be one thing that I am asking and seeking for, one response that I give. God commands, invites me to seek Him, and promises over and over that those who seek Him wholeheartedly will find Him.
That is not a self-evident truth. It's grace.
It's grounds for contentment in all circumstance.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)