Short version: This morning, my friend, my little brother, and I were going to go to church, but we didn't. The End.
Longer version: My little brother is always really slow to mobilize. He has to be roused at least three times to get out of bed to go to school in the morning, so it's not uncommon for whoever's driving to burst a blood vessel trying to get the little fartknocker out of bed.
So we needed to leave for church by 9:45 this morning to get to the 10:30 service. Where is Geoff? On the toilet. Males in the Dunn household, except me, have been known to sit on the can for up to half an hour just moseying and taking their time, so my friend and I take turns shouting at him to hurry up. He mumbles from behind the closed bathroom door that he has a stomachache. We wait while he sits on the can for 20+ minutes.
Three options formed in my head, in this order: (1) hurry his malingering ass out of the bathroom and get him to the car so we can speed down the freeway to stumble in late and flustered to church, (2) leave him on the can (he's 17, he can handle himself), and go to church -- I mean, if he's not going to get anything out of it, I might as well get some spiritual mileage out of the day, right? (3) Not go to church, sit around and fume all day, and unintentionally-but-sort-of-intentionally guilt-trip the little fartknocker.
It seems obvious when I list them out that those three options are incredibly unloving. But those were the first things that occurred to me to do. And if you stop and think, that sort of scene probably plays itself out around the American South Bible Belt on Sunday mornings. Foxtrot cartoons always have the parents screaming and hollering in order to get their lackadaisical kids into their pews on time. It's almost become a cultural joke to think about two congregants engaging in apoplectic road rage and then finding themselves next to each other in church. I remember a lot of Sabbath mornings that felt extremely stressful because everyone was running into the congregation on edge -- I remember wondering where the love, joy, peace, patience, and all that jazz had gone.
Two scriptures came to mind: the Mark 2:27 part where Jesus points out that "the Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath," and the 1 John 4:20 part where "if anyone says, I love God, but hates his brother, he is a liar." How could I abide in God's love, how could I celebrate God's love on His Sabbath, and still lack the patience, the love, the concern for my brother -- who actually did turn out to have a pretty bad case of stomach pains for the next few hours. God gave me my brother that I should have the opportunity to love him, and my first few thoughts today definitely failed that.
God doesn't want us to wallow in our guilt, but if we're doing something wrong, then we need to know it. Think about those two churchgoers who scream at each other on the road and then end up in adjacent pews feeling guilty. They have a right to feel humbled: as Jesus put it in Matthew 5, "If you bring your gift to the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar, and go your way. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift."
God looks at our hearts, not our church attendance, in the end.
Fortunately, God's grace gave me those thoughts before I did anything rash, and what we ended up doing was staying home, while I wrote this entry and gave my brother some soda and crackers. Which I know, sounds pretty basic.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Kingdom Work
In the last few weeks, I graduated and commissioned in the United States Navy, but for the most part, after I finished final exams and projects, I went to a lot of receptions and ate a lot of food and spent a lot of time with friends and family.
I always tend to feel like I'm wasting time when I'm not "doing something worthwhile." Am I not supposed to be advancing the Kingdom of God, caring for his people, promoting the gospel, or something?
Ecclesiastes 2 warns that spending a lot of time worrying about strivings and labor is vanity. It states, "There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and that his soul should enjoy the good of his labor. This also, I saw, was from the hand of God."
It's hard to read a lot of Ecclesiastes, but I think it's wisdom that God gives us a lot of gifts so that we can enjoy them. So often we're overachievers, and we want to be great stewards and do excellent things with what God provides, but I think there's something to be said for learning to be a great recipient of a gift. How could we really be great proponents of the gospel of grace if we didn't first allow ourselves to be awed by what it means for us? How can we be planters of trees to shade others, if we don't know what it means to sit and enjoy the shade?
The book Through Painted Deserts by Don Miller recounts Don going on a road trip from Houston to Oregon and being overwhelmed by the fact that God made the stars and the mountains to amaze us. I had some similar experiences last summer, road-tripping through national parks from Houston to San Francisco. If you stand on top of Half-Dome on Yosemite, or look out over the depths and widths of the Grand Canyon, or stare around at the vast and terrible stillness of Death Valley, it gives you a sense of what God had in mind at the very beginning, before we fouled things up -- the world as an amazing garden for us to enjoy in His company. And the biggest lesson God taught me during that road trip was to learn let go, to relax, and to enjoy things as they came.
Sometimes the Bible isn't just a set of instructions, and sometimes the world isn't just a battlefield for Christians to conquer for Christ. Sometimes life is a love letter, authored by God, for us to enjoy. I think that's why Job was exceedingly blessed after his trials -- it wasn't a reward for any good behavior, it was a gift from a loving Father. I think it's why Jesus took a nap on the fishing boat on the Sea of Galilee. I think that's why I've had some time to breathe, relax, and enjoy my friends and family and the beautiful weather and this amazing university experience.
I always tend to feel like I'm wasting time when I'm not "doing something worthwhile." Am I not supposed to be advancing the Kingdom of God, caring for his people, promoting the gospel, or something?
Ecclesiastes 2 warns that spending a lot of time worrying about strivings and labor is vanity. It states, "There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and that his soul should enjoy the good of his labor. This also, I saw, was from the hand of God."
It's hard to read a lot of Ecclesiastes, but I think it's wisdom that God gives us a lot of gifts so that we can enjoy them. So often we're overachievers, and we want to be great stewards and do excellent things with what God provides, but I think there's something to be said for learning to be a great recipient of a gift. How could we really be great proponents of the gospel of grace if we didn't first allow ourselves to be awed by what it means for us? How can we be planters of trees to shade others, if we don't know what it means to sit and enjoy the shade?
The book Through Painted Deserts by Don Miller recounts Don going on a road trip from Houston to Oregon and being overwhelmed by the fact that God made the stars and the mountains to amaze us. I had some similar experiences last summer, road-tripping through national parks from Houston to San Francisco. If you stand on top of Half-Dome on Yosemite, or look out over the depths and widths of the Grand Canyon, or stare around at the vast and terrible stillness of Death Valley, it gives you a sense of what God had in mind at the very beginning, before we fouled things up -- the world as an amazing garden for us to enjoy in His company. And the biggest lesson God taught me during that road trip was to learn let go, to relax, and to enjoy things as they came.
Sometimes the Bible isn't just a set of instructions, and sometimes the world isn't just a battlefield for Christians to conquer for Christ. Sometimes life is a love letter, authored by God, for us to enjoy. I think that's why Job was exceedingly blessed after his trials -- it wasn't a reward for any good behavior, it was a gift from a loving Father. I think it's why Jesus took a nap on the fishing boat on the Sea of Galilee. I think that's why I've had some time to breathe, relax, and enjoy my friends and family and the beautiful weather and this amazing university experience.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Jacob and Esau
Question of the week:
I've run into people who have understood the gospel and what it means on an intellectual level. But one person in particular has said to me, "Yes, I understand that Jesus came to take away my sins, which I can't do myself, and to reconcile me with God. But I don't want to be in debt to anyone or owe anyone anything. I didn't ask to be obligated to His grace, and I'd rather deal with consequences on my own terms, even if that means going to hell." What do you say to that?
My first thought is, this person probably doesn't have the best understanding of how bad sin and death really are, but then again, sometimes I don't either. My second thought is that as Christians, we all have to really learn by experience or revelation what grace is and to accept it. It is a turning point in every Christian's faith when they realize, "Hey, grace isn't just like a reset button -- it is hard work and sacrificial love on God's part, something I deserve the opposite of, and it's what I'm called to base my life and my faith upon." So that thought that we don't want to be obligated to anyone and we want to make it on our own terms (or if we know we can't, at least go down trying) is a reflection of the non-Christian mindset.
From the moment we're born, we're indebted to the grace of others, either our family or "the kindness of strangers," but that's a little different. Accepting Christ is a decision, a willful acceptance of our indebtedness to Christ's work and our inability to stand on our own feet.
Still, in some ways, it feels like a valid question. Jesus did suffer and die for us, but we weren't there and we never asked Him to, so what obligates us to accept except a certain realism that we can't do it alone? I'd like to know what anyone would say to that statement, "I don't want to be indebted to anyone."
------------------------------
Genesis 27 is a chapter about people who mess things up, and a lot of my insight is based on this morning's sermon at Grace Bible Church.
In verses 1-4, Isaac blindly tells Esau to go hunt some meat and cook him a savory stew so that he can receive his father's blessing. In verses 5-29, Jacob and Rebekah come up with a conniving, deceitful scheme to pass Jacob off as Esau and steal the blessing of Isaac. The remainder of the chapter is Esau getting really pissed off, getting an ersatz blessing from Isaac, and then Jacob having to flee Isaac's household so Esau won't kill him.
How do we read this story? I've heard so many approaches and interpretations. Isaac was going to bless Esau, but as predicted by God in Genesis 25:23 when the twins were born, Jacob ends up on top, which we can take to mean that God has excellent foresight. Esau gave up the right to a birthright in Genesis 25 when he ate Jacob's stew, so what happened was really what Esau deserved. Sure, Jacob and Rebekah were deceitful and corrupt in the way they went about it, but they were passionate after God's blessing, so in the end, that was in accordance with God's will -- sort of the argument that the person who really wants the championship is the person who will use any means to get there. And nothing really happens to Jacob -- he gets the blessing, doesn't he -- so it must've been okay for him to do what he did.
Here are some important things I've realized about this story:
- By choosing Esau to bless, Isaac is trying to circumvent God's will. I'd always read God's words in Genesis 25:23 as prophecy, not a command, but God definitely told Rebekah (who almost certainly would've told Isaac) that the blessing was to go to Jacob. So it's not as if the blessing was ever up for grabs, and Jacob just came away with it in the end. Jacob was intended to have God's blessing from the beginning.
- Jacob was supposed to have the blessing because God wanted him to, and that's all we'll ever really know about it. Malachi 1:2-3 and all of that. It's a reality of how God works, and it's not a function of merit or deserving. Jacob was a conniving little snot, and Esau married a Hittite and gave his parents grief, so it's not like either were golden boys.
- It is absolutely ridiculous that Isaac tried to circumvent God's will and give the blessing to Esau over his affinity for Esau's venison stew, but we forgo God's plan for ridiculous things too. A Bible scholar named Alexander Whyte noted, "What envy was to Cain, and what wine was to Noah, and what lewdness was to Ham, and what wealth was to Lot, and what pride and impatience were to Sarah -- all that, venison and savoury meat were to Isaac." Great men of God sacrifice so much of their marital happiness and godly purity for the momentary pleasures of Internet pornography. It is important that I realize that I am not above any sin, ever.
- Are Jacob and Rebekah working to achieve the stated will of God? Yes. Are they sinning in the way they go about it? Absolutely they are. But they get the blessing -- does that mean it's okay? No way. It is one thing to work toward the stated will of God and another to do it by worldly means. First, it's clear that they're sinning. Jacob's chief concern is getting caught by Isaac, not doing wrong. And they're lying and deceiving and stealing. Second, if they do things wrong and don't reap the consequences they deserve -- well, that's the definition of mercy, right? Doesn't mean they weren't sinning. Third, Jacob and Rebekah do have to deal with pretty dire consequences that I hadn't thought about before today. Jacob has to leave his father's house for hard labor in Laban's fields. He never gets to see his mother again, and accordingly, Rebekah never sees her favorite son again. Jacob and Esau, two twin brothers, are also estranged in a hateful relationship for decades. And their descendents are continually at war, up until King Herod (an Edomite) encounters Jesus (an Israelite). So the fact that Jacob did end up with the blessing doesn't mean he got away with anything so much as it reflects how God is going to make His will come to pass.
I had a lot of misconceptions about Jacob and Esau, but I think today's sermon and reflection have helped a lot. These were men like us, they screwed up like us, and they are redeemed like us. And I've certainly exchanged God's blessing for things stupider than venison.
I've run into people who have understood the gospel and what it means on an intellectual level. But one person in particular has said to me, "Yes, I understand that Jesus came to take away my sins, which I can't do myself, and to reconcile me with God. But I don't want to be in debt to anyone or owe anyone anything. I didn't ask to be obligated to His grace, and I'd rather deal with consequences on my own terms, even if that means going to hell." What do you say to that?
My first thought is, this person probably doesn't have the best understanding of how bad sin and death really are, but then again, sometimes I don't either. My second thought is that as Christians, we all have to really learn by experience or revelation what grace is and to accept it. It is a turning point in every Christian's faith when they realize, "Hey, grace isn't just like a reset button -- it is hard work and sacrificial love on God's part, something I deserve the opposite of, and it's what I'm called to base my life and my faith upon." So that thought that we don't want to be obligated to anyone and we want to make it on our own terms (or if we know we can't, at least go down trying) is a reflection of the non-Christian mindset.
From the moment we're born, we're indebted to the grace of others, either our family or "the kindness of strangers," but that's a little different. Accepting Christ is a decision, a willful acceptance of our indebtedness to Christ's work and our inability to stand on our own feet.
Still, in some ways, it feels like a valid question. Jesus did suffer and die for us, but we weren't there and we never asked Him to, so what obligates us to accept except a certain realism that we can't do it alone? I'd like to know what anyone would say to that statement, "I don't want to be indebted to anyone."
------------------------------
Genesis 27 is a chapter about people who mess things up, and a lot of my insight is based on this morning's sermon at Grace Bible Church.
In verses 1-4, Isaac blindly tells Esau to go hunt some meat and cook him a savory stew so that he can receive his father's blessing. In verses 5-29, Jacob and Rebekah come up with a conniving, deceitful scheme to pass Jacob off as Esau and steal the blessing of Isaac. The remainder of the chapter is Esau getting really pissed off, getting an ersatz blessing from Isaac, and then Jacob having to flee Isaac's household so Esau won't kill him.
How do we read this story? I've heard so many approaches and interpretations. Isaac was going to bless Esau, but as predicted by God in Genesis 25:23 when the twins were born, Jacob ends up on top, which we can take to mean that God has excellent foresight. Esau gave up the right to a birthright in Genesis 25 when he ate Jacob's stew, so what happened was really what Esau deserved. Sure, Jacob and Rebekah were deceitful and corrupt in the way they went about it, but they were passionate after God's blessing, so in the end, that was in accordance with God's will -- sort of the argument that the person who really wants the championship is the person who will use any means to get there. And nothing really happens to Jacob -- he gets the blessing, doesn't he -- so it must've been okay for him to do what he did.
Here are some important things I've realized about this story:
- By choosing Esau to bless, Isaac is trying to circumvent God's will. I'd always read God's words in Genesis 25:23 as prophecy, not a command, but God definitely told Rebekah (who almost certainly would've told Isaac) that the blessing was to go to Jacob. So it's not as if the blessing was ever up for grabs, and Jacob just came away with it in the end. Jacob was intended to have God's blessing from the beginning.
- Jacob was supposed to have the blessing because God wanted him to, and that's all we'll ever really know about it. Malachi 1:2-3 and all of that. It's a reality of how God works, and it's not a function of merit or deserving. Jacob was a conniving little snot, and Esau married a Hittite and gave his parents grief, so it's not like either were golden boys.
- It is absolutely ridiculous that Isaac tried to circumvent God's will and give the blessing to Esau over his affinity for Esau's venison stew, but we forgo God's plan for ridiculous things too. A Bible scholar named Alexander Whyte noted, "What envy was to Cain, and what wine was to Noah, and what lewdness was to Ham, and what wealth was to Lot, and what pride and impatience were to Sarah -- all that, venison and savoury meat were to Isaac." Great men of God sacrifice so much of their marital happiness and godly purity for the momentary pleasures of Internet pornography. It is important that I realize that I am not above any sin, ever.
- Are Jacob and Rebekah working to achieve the stated will of God? Yes. Are they sinning in the way they go about it? Absolutely they are. But they get the blessing -- does that mean it's okay? No way. It is one thing to work toward the stated will of God and another to do it by worldly means. First, it's clear that they're sinning. Jacob's chief concern is getting caught by Isaac, not doing wrong. And they're lying and deceiving and stealing. Second, if they do things wrong and don't reap the consequences they deserve -- well, that's the definition of mercy, right? Doesn't mean they weren't sinning. Third, Jacob and Rebekah do have to deal with pretty dire consequences that I hadn't thought about before today. Jacob has to leave his father's house for hard labor in Laban's fields. He never gets to see his mother again, and accordingly, Rebekah never sees her favorite son again. Jacob and Esau, two twin brothers, are also estranged in a hateful relationship for decades. And their descendents are continually at war, up until King Herod (an Edomite) encounters Jesus (an Israelite). So the fact that Jacob did end up with the blessing doesn't mean he got away with anything so much as it reflects how God is going to make His will come to pass.
I had a lot of misconceptions about Jacob and Esau, but I think today's sermon and reflection have helped a lot. These were men like us, they screwed up like us, and they are redeemed like us. And I've certainly exchanged God's blessing for things stupider than venison.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Romans 9:3
In Romans 9, Paul writes, "For I could wish that I myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my countrymen according to the flesh."
What a powerful statement that is. When I first read it, I thought Paul was actually saying that he would sacrifice his relationship with Christ if it meant assuring the salvation of Israel. What a testament to Paul's devotion to Israel, but what a statement on Paul's part about what he was willing to forsake. Would anyone in their right mind forsake their salvation in Jesus Christ for someone else? That salvation, the hope of mankind, the hope for every sinner, the redemption from eternal punishment and separation from God? We barely inconvenience ourselves for the people around us. Would you go to hell for someone else?
Jesus did, for us, for three days. Jesus, in fact, gave up His place with God for our salvation, in the same way Paul would have wished for the salvation of Israel at the cost of his place with God. That was different though. Jesus has a certain return to glory. The thought for Paul to be "accursed from Christ" probably meant no hope for resurrection from that separation from God.
What a thought to give up your place with God for the sake of someone else! Yet, we see a few examples in the Bible. After the episode with the golden calf in Exodus 32, Moses pleads with God, "Oh, these people have committed a great sin, and have made for themselves a god of gold! Yet now, if You will forgive their sin -- but if not, I pray, blot me out of Your book, which You have written."
I don't think that Paul actually dared to wish that he could exchange his salvation for that of Israel's. He knew it wasn't possible for his sacrifice to cover an entire nation's, and he knew that his sacrifice would be no assurance of anyone's salvation. His words are "I could wish" express a strong desire, rather than a literal meaning, in the same sense that "I could kill him, I'm so angry" doesn't really mean that I want to or intend to kill anyone. Paul's words simply communicate a strong passionate wish for the salvation of Israel and a personal commitment and investment.
The story that really helps me visualize this sort of sacrificial love is in Mark 2. It's not clear why four men are carrying the paralytic to see Jesus; it's not clear if they're friends, or the four men found the paralytic on the periphery of the crowd, or if the paralytic made the request, or if the four men were simply proactive in love. But I think it's reasonable to think that those four guys could've pushed through the crowd to see Jesus for themselves, and left that guy outside. "Sorry, but seeing Jesus is really important to me, and I'm not willing to give that chance up. I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to leave you outside." How often do we say that our individual pursuit of Jesus is the most important thing in our lives? But here we see four men risking their chance to see Jesus to help the chances of the paralytic.
It helps to know that Jesus loves and blesses and rewards that kind of sacrifice. It helps to know that it isn't really possible to lose our salvation in pursuing the salvation of others. But that strong love and desire for others to see God will take sacrifice, and it's verses like Romans 9:3 that make you stop and think about what you'd be willing to give up for the sake of other people.
What a powerful statement that is. When I first read it, I thought Paul was actually saying that he would sacrifice his relationship with Christ if it meant assuring the salvation of Israel. What a testament to Paul's devotion to Israel, but what a statement on Paul's part about what he was willing to forsake. Would anyone in their right mind forsake their salvation in Jesus Christ for someone else? That salvation, the hope of mankind, the hope for every sinner, the redemption from eternal punishment and separation from God? We barely inconvenience ourselves for the people around us. Would you go to hell for someone else?
Jesus did, for us, for three days. Jesus, in fact, gave up His place with God for our salvation, in the same way Paul would have wished for the salvation of Israel at the cost of his place with God. That was different though. Jesus has a certain return to glory. The thought for Paul to be "accursed from Christ" probably meant no hope for resurrection from that separation from God.
What a thought to give up your place with God for the sake of someone else! Yet, we see a few examples in the Bible. After the episode with the golden calf in Exodus 32, Moses pleads with God, "Oh, these people have committed a great sin, and have made for themselves a god of gold! Yet now, if You will forgive their sin -- but if not, I pray, blot me out of Your book, which You have written."
I don't think that Paul actually dared to wish that he could exchange his salvation for that of Israel's. He knew it wasn't possible for his sacrifice to cover an entire nation's, and he knew that his sacrifice would be no assurance of anyone's salvation. His words are "I could wish" express a strong desire, rather than a literal meaning, in the same sense that "I could kill him, I'm so angry" doesn't really mean that I want to or intend to kill anyone. Paul's words simply communicate a strong passionate wish for the salvation of Israel and a personal commitment and investment.
The story that really helps me visualize this sort of sacrificial love is in Mark 2. It's not clear why four men are carrying the paralytic to see Jesus; it's not clear if they're friends, or the four men found the paralytic on the periphery of the crowd, or if the paralytic made the request, or if the four men were simply proactive in love. But I think it's reasonable to think that those four guys could've pushed through the crowd to see Jesus for themselves, and left that guy outside. "Sorry, but seeing Jesus is really important to me, and I'm not willing to give that chance up. I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to leave you outside." How often do we say that our individual pursuit of Jesus is the most important thing in our lives? But here we see four men risking their chance to see Jesus to help the chances of the paralytic.
It helps to know that Jesus loves and blesses and rewards that kind of sacrifice. It helps to know that it isn't really possible to lose our salvation in pursuing the salvation of others. But that strong love and desire for others to see God will take sacrifice, and it's verses like Romans 9:3 that make you stop and think about what you'd be willing to give up for the sake of other people.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Things I Learned in College
I came to Rice University four years ago, and I'm not really any smarter now, but I am wiser for the experiences I have here. I thought it'd be valuable to write down some of the things I've learned since I've been here. It's not a comprehensive list, but it's something.
1. Family is important.
You know, if you're like me, you grow up with your family and you spend a lot of that time wanting to get away from them. You can pick your friends because you have something in common with them, they're likeable, they're fun, or whatever quality you could predetermine, but your family is a random group of people that you're just stuck with: why wouldn't you prefer to be with your friends?
I grew up with a strained relationship with my dad, or at least I felt like I did, and to a fifteen or sixteen year old, that's all that matters: you feel like life's dealt you a lousy hand. Why don't my parents love me? I wondered. Of course they loved me, but teenagers have a really poor sense of perspective. At any rate, it was a huge turning point when I realized that I had not been asking the real question about love: how can I love my family?
I realized I'd been having the wrong approach to family: that it's not just a random assortment of people that are supposed to love you no matter what -- it's a random assortment of people that you get to love, no matter what. And what an opportunity to see and experience love as it really is. You don't love your sister or your brother because they're super-nice or for any other merit. You love them because they're your family and that's who God's given you to love. That's how God loves us. That's how we're supposed to love. It's hard work and it's so much more worth it because it's not easy.
I came to college wanting to get away from those annoying people that constituted my family. Now I realize that family is a God-given opportunity for us to learn about love.
2. Second Chances are Important.
I used to read the story about Jesus telling His followers to forgive their neighbors not seven times, but seventy times seven times. And of course, the point of the story is that we're supposed to embrace forgiveness without keeping a count of how many times we've been wronged. Obvious, right?
Since I started my first dating relationship a little over fifteen months ago, I've realized that I'm not naturally very good at forgiving. My girlfriend really seems to be. She's just about the most forgiving person in the world, and it puts me to shame. But I found that especially as she kept making the same mistakes over and over, I found it harder and harder to let it go. Why would you do this again? Didn't you do it yesterday, and realize how much it angers me? I know I'm supposed to forgive and everything, but how many times are you going to screw this up?
It is a lot of work to forgive. It is a lot of work to say, "It's okay, honey, I still love you, and I don't hold it against you" and really mean it every time.
It helped to read 1 Corinthians 13, where it says that love "bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." The NIV says, "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs."
It is humbling to realize that as much as I struggle with forgiving little things from day to day and giving someone a second chance every chance, God does the same for you, and He does it perfectly. It is no easier for Him; someone doing something wrong or hurtful to you is a universal downer. He is just that good.
3. Thinkers are common, talkers are common. Doers are rare.
4. God is bigger than I thought.
I more or less had God figured out when I came to college. Now I feel like I know very little about what there is to know about Him. I'll give an example: for a young believer, when they ask, "Does everyone who believes in Jesus get saved and go to heaven?" It's a pretty safe and true answer to say, "Yes." The answer to the real question at hand is, "Yes, if you give your life and yourself to Jesus, He's promised His salvation for you." But a more mature believer might ask, "Well, what about the Scriptures like James 2:19 where it talks about demons believing and trembling? What about Matthew 7:21-23? What about the whole doctrine of faith versus works?" And it would be good sense to reason that maybe not "everyone" who "believes" in Jesus would be saved, depending on how you define those terms. What about non-Christians? Do all of them go to hell? Romans 1:18-21 would suggest that people who don't even hear the gospel have a chance to realize and accept God or reject Him. Where do we even get our conception of hell? What does the Bible say about hell? Not a whole lot in very clear description.
As I've studied Scripture and pursued God through my time at Rice, I've come to realize that a lot of the things I used to think were simple black and white, are not as obvious or defined as I thought they were. Of course there are truths to live by, and some of my contemplation is foolishness. But God is much, much bigger and beyond my understanding than that feeble religious system I had Him pegged in when I came to Rice four years ago.
5. Experience counts.
In Bible study and in ministry, I'm starting to give more value to experience than I used to.
These things seem obvious, but they're not until you really learn them.
1. Family is important.
You know, if you're like me, you grow up with your family and you spend a lot of that time wanting to get away from them. You can pick your friends because you have something in common with them, they're likeable, they're fun, or whatever quality you could predetermine, but your family is a random group of people that you're just stuck with: why wouldn't you prefer to be with your friends?
I grew up with a strained relationship with my dad, or at least I felt like I did, and to a fifteen or sixteen year old, that's all that matters: you feel like life's dealt you a lousy hand. Why don't my parents love me? I wondered. Of course they loved me, but teenagers have a really poor sense of perspective. At any rate, it was a huge turning point when I realized that I had not been asking the real question about love: how can I love my family?
I realized I'd been having the wrong approach to family: that it's not just a random assortment of people that are supposed to love you no matter what -- it's a random assortment of people that you get to love, no matter what. And what an opportunity to see and experience love as it really is. You don't love your sister or your brother because they're super-nice or for any other merit. You love them because they're your family and that's who God's given you to love. That's how God loves us. That's how we're supposed to love. It's hard work and it's so much more worth it because it's not easy.
I came to college wanting to get away from those annoying people that constituted my family. Now I realize that family is a God-given opportunity for us to learn about love.
2. Second Chances are Important.
I used to read the story about Jesus telling His followers to forgive their neighbors not seven times, but seventy times seven times. And of course, the point of the story is that we're supposed to embrace forgiveness without keeping a count of how many times we've been wronged. Obvious, right?
Since I started my first dating relationship a little over fifteen months ago, I've realized that I'm not naturally very good at forgiving. My girlfriend really seems to be. She's just about the most forgiving person in the world, and it puts me to shame. But I found that especially as she kept making the same mistakes over and over, I found it harder and harder to let it go. Why would you do this again? Didn't you do it yesterday, and realize how much it angers me? I know I'm supposed to forgive and everything, but how many times are you going to screw this up?
It is a lot of work to forgive. It is a lot of work to say, "It's okay, honey, I still love you, and I don't hold it against you" and really mean it every time.
It helped to read 1 Corinthians 13, where it says that love "bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." The NIV says, "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs."
It is humbling to realize that as much as I struggle with forgiving little things from day to day and giving someone a second chance every chance, God does the same for you, and He does it perfectly. It is no easier for Him; someone doing something wrong or hurtful to you is a universal downer. He is just that good.
3. Thinkers are common, talkers are common. Doers are rare.
4. God is bigger than I thought.
I more or less had God figured out when I came to college. Now I feel like I know very little about what there is to know about Him. I'll give an example: for a young believer, when they ask, "Does everyone who believes in Jesus get saved and go to heaven?" It's a pretty safe and true answer to say, "Yes." The answer to the real question at hand is, "Yes, if you give your life and yourself to Jesus, He's promised His salvation for you." But a more mature believer might ask, "Well, what about the Scriptures like James 2:19 where it talks about demons believing and trembling? What about Matthew 7:21-23? What about the whole doctrine of faith versus works?" And it would be good sense to reason that maybe not "everyone" who "believes" in Jesus would be saved, depending on how you define those terms. What about non-Christians? Do all of them go to hell? Romans 1:18-21 would suggest that people who don't even hear the gospel have a chance to realize and accept God or reject Him. Where do we even get our conception of hell? What does the Bible say about hell? Not a whole lot in very clear description.
As I've studied Scripture and pursued God through my time at Rice, I've come to realize that a lot of the things I used to think were simple black and white, are not as obvious or defined as I thought they were. Of course there are truths to live by, and some of my contemplation is foolishness. But God is much, much bigger and beyond my understanding than that feeble religious system I had Him pegged in when I came to Rice four years ago.
5. Experience counts.
In Bible study and in ministry, I'm starting to give more value to experience than I used to.
These things seem obvious, but they're not until you really learn them.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Mere Sunday Christianity
The term "Sunday Christian" is one tier above the class of people who go to church exclusively on Christmas or Easter. So technically, for most of college years, I've been one step below a Sunday Christian -- I hadn't been going to church because campus ministry has been pretty amazing at meeting my needs for discipleship, mentorship, bible study, community, etc., and also a great outlet for personal ministry, so this past Easter was the first time in months that I'd really gone to church. (Okay, I went to Kurt's church once, but it had a food court.) I like this one, so far; I think I've been for four Sundays in a row, so I can now augment from being a "submarine Christian" that only surfaces twice a year.
All these derisive labels are rather tellingly explained on Wikipedia.
This past week, though, I really was a Sunday Christian. I led leaders' bible study on Monday about Ecclesiastes, and that went well, but from Monday until today, I really didn't give God a second thought. I had conflicts with both discipleship and Martel bible study, so I didn't participate in either of those, which makes me realize how dependent I sometimes am on structured events to begin seeking God. I think, without really thinking about it, I reassured myself with the thought that it was okay because on Sunday, I'd get right with God and start the week over again. There was no urgency to the now.
It was really easy to slip into being a Sunday Christian for a week.
I've had enough dry times to know that your faith isn't necessarily broken if you've spent some time away with God and you don't feel horrible as a result. That's a new believer's dilemma: "How can it be that I haven't spent any time with the Lord in the past few days and I still feel okay, I don't feel empty or miserable or anything without Him?" Well, hey, it's called grace, and God is sometimes super-nice to us, and no, you don't deserve to feel okay, but that's the whole point. And I don't think there's any problem with really seeking God in organized, disciplined routines -- discipline through regular churchgoing and bible study and discipleship at set points throughout the week are really amazing venues through which God can work in your heart. God even set incredibly regular, prescribed remembrance feasts for His people in Leviticus 23, which I think we can take to mean that not all our "authentic" spiritual experience has to be spontaneous or "organic." The sticky part about taking a disciplined approach to faith is that you have to have some discipline. I can say, I'll probably grow a lot in the Lord if I set aside these times to pursue Him in these ways, but I have to actually follow through, and often times I don't because I'm lazy.
And yet God has blessed my faith, unquestionably, unstintingly, in the last four years.
We fail at pursuing God through disciplined means, and we fail at pursuing God when we disavow "pre-packaged religion" and try to make it on our own terms. Here is the real meaning of 1 John 4:10: "This is love, not that we love God, but that He loved us." If I am growing in my faith and relationship with God and only putting in the paltry work of a Sunday Christian, then God's grace for me is far more than I deserve. Even in my failures, God is faithful to reveal Himself.
If there were ever anything to persuade me to the doctrine of predestination, it would be my own failure and God's overwhelming compassion towards me when I don't deserve a thing. The same could also be said about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
All these derisive labels are rather tellingly explained on Wikipedia.
This past week, though, I really was a Sunday Christian. I led leaders' bible study on Monday about Ecclesiastes, and that went well, but from Monday until today, I really didn't give God a second thought. I had conflicts with both discipleship and Martel bible study, so I didn't participate in either of those, which makes me realize how dependent I sometimes am on structured events to begin seeking God. I think, without really thinking about it, I reassured myself with the thought that it was okay because on Sunday, I'd get right with God and start the week over again. There was no urgency to the now.
It was really easy to slip into being a Sunday Christian for a week.
I've had enough dry times to know that your faith isn't necessarily broken if you've spent some time away with God and you don't feel horrible as a result. That's a new believer's dilemma: "How can it be that I haven't spent any time with the Lord in the past few days and I still feel okay, I don't feel empty or miserable or anything without Him?" Well, hey, it's called grace, and God is sometimes super-nice to us, and no, you don't deserve to feel okay, but that's the whole point. And I don't think there's any problem with really seeking God in organized, disciplined routines -- discipline through regular churchgoing and bible study and discipleship at set points throughout the week are really amazing venues through which God can work in your heart. God even set incredibly regular, prescribed remembrance feasts for His people in Leviticus 23, which I think we can take to mean that not all our "authentic" spiritual experience has to be spontaneous or "organic." The sticky part about taking a disciplined approach to faith is that you have to have some discipline. I can say, I'll probably grow a lot in the Lord if I set aside these times to pursue Him in these ways, but I have to actually follow through, and often times I don't because I'm lazy.
And yet God has blessed my faith, unquestionably, unstintingly, in the last four years.
We fail at pursuing God through disciplined means, and we fail at pursuing God when we disavow "pre-packaged religion" and try to make it on our own terms. Here is the real meaning of 1 John 4:10: "This is love, not that we love God, but that He loved us." If I am growing in my faith and relationship with God and only putting in the paltry work of a Sunday Christian, then God's grace for me is far more than I deserve. Even in my failures, God is faithful to reveal Himself.
If there were ever anything to persuade me to the doctrine of predestination, it would be my own failure and God's overwhelming compassion towards me when I don't deserve a thing. The same could also be said about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Worship
Sometimes there are particular lines, or a few words, that just move you. It's at those times that you stop being cynical and you stop thinking you have everything figured out because something so simple as a few words sung in praise of God can overwhelm you with...I guess a glimpse of truth, or of eternity.
I have a few favorites. Just little excerpts of songs that I can't sing without feeling like God's really grabbing me in a very real way. Here are several of them...
- Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be.
- No guilt in life, no fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me.
- You did not wait for me to draw near to you, but you clothed yourself in frail humanity.
- Let thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to thee -- prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.
- Though there's pain in the offering, blessed be Your name.
- Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my vision.
- This is all my hope and peace, nothing but the blood of Jesus, this is all my righteousness, nothing but the blood of Jesus.
- And I will seek You in the morning, and I will learn to walk in Your ways, and step by step, You lead me, and I will follow you all of my days.
- Lord, You are more precious than silver...and nothing I desire compares with You.
- Don't let my vision die, I'm calling out, light the fire again.
- Naked and poor, wretched and blind I come. Clothe me in white so I won't be ashamed.
- And I'll sing Your praises forever, deeper in love with You.
- Broken, I run to You, for Your arms are open wide. And I am weary but I know Your touch restores my life.
On a side note, I have a hard time connecting with nature songs ("Running through the forest, dive into the lake") or "breathe" songs ("This is the air I breathe," and many others). Usually I end up just not singing them because I always end up thinking, "What am I even saying."
I've had some really good times of worship this year. One time it was a group of guys, and Mithun, who sings really loudly and unashamedly, and there came a moment where I thought about the way we were responding to our awesome Creator and God and thought, "This is it. This is what the human voice was created for." What an amazing thought, and how humbling to realize how often I use my mouth in a useless way that doesn't glorify God. How stark the contrast between the amazing truth of worship and the trivial things I babble on about on a daily basis. It really drives home the point of James 3 in a way that I hadn't considered before -- what do I use my tongue for?
Worship really is a recognition of truth. From time to time, someone will ask, "If people are created just to glorify God, then isn't that really selfish and petty of God just to make lesser beings to sit around and tell Him how great He is all day?" I think everyone has that thought at some point or another. It took me a while to realize that worship, pure unfettered worship, is the only right, natural response of a being like you and me to an infinitely vast, infinitely good being like God. It is the only way we can approach Him in light of who He is, and anything else is deception or falsehood. To not worship Him is to be dead wrong about the way things are -- you and I are really small and God is really big. It boggles my mind how much of my day is spent outside of a state of worship. It reminds me of the time I sat on top of a 12,444 ft mountaintop in the middle of an incredible wilderness and played cards with some friends because we'd gotten bored of the view and thought we'd seen it all. Stupid.
God also has used worship to show me His heart for His children. My freshman year, I was conversing with a guy on the beach about the gospel and made some headway, but later that night, I found myself in an amazing time of worship at a large group meeting and God's presence was really there. I can't describe what that's like. It's better than having VIP seats at a Neil Diamond concert, which I've definitely done, which was awesome in itself. But I think God really told me that night, "How much better would this be if that guy from the beach were here worshiping next to you?" What a blessing we have in God, and in the joy He gives us, and in our worshipful relationship with Him, and how deserving He is. How stingy I am not to think of others. It's like me eating Thanksgiving dinner and everyone else sitting around hungry with empty plates because I'm too self-centered to share.
That time of worship changed how I looked at God and how I looked at life. Worship is what the human voice was made for, and it's what we're made for too.
I have a few favorites. Just little excerpts of songs that I can't sing without feeling like God's really grabbing me in a very real way. Here are several of them...
- Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be.
- No guilt in life, no fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me.
- You did not wait for me to draw near to you, but you clothed yourself in frail humanity.
- Let thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to thee -- prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.
- Though there's pain in the offering, blessed be Your name.
- Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my vision.
- This is all my hope and peace, nothing but the blood of Jesus, this is all my righteousness, nothing but the blood of Jesus.
- And I will seek You in the morning, and I will learn to walk in Your ways, and step by step, You lead me, and I will follow you all of my days.
- Lord, You are more precious than silver...and nothing I desire compares with You.
- Don't let my vision die, I'm calling out, light the fire again.
- Naked and poor, wretched and blind I come. Clothe me in white so I won't be ashamed.
- And I'll sing Your praises forever, deeper in love with You.
- Broken, I run to You, for Your arms are open wide. And I am weary but I know Your touch restores my life.
On a side note, I have a hard time connecting with nature songs ("Running through the forest, dive into the lake") or "breathe" songs ("This is the air I breathe," and many others). Usually I end up just not singing them because I always end up thinking, "What am I even saying."
I've had some really good times of worship this year. One time it was a group of guys, and Mithun, who sings really loudly and unashamedly, and there came a moment where I thought about the way we were responding to our awesome Creator and God and thought, "This is it. This is what the human voice was created for." What an amazing thought, and how humbling to realize how often I use my mouth in a useless way that doesn't glorify God. How stark the contrast between the amazing truth of worship and the trivial things I babble on about on a daily basis. It really drives home the point of James 3 in a way that I hadn't considered before -- what do I use my tongue for?
Worship really is a recognition of truth. From time to time, someone will ask, "If people are created just to glorify God, then isn't that really selfish and petty of God just to make lesser beings to sit around and tell Him how great He is all day?" I think everyone has that thought at some point or another. It took me a while to realize that worship, pure unfettered worship, is the only right, natural response of a being like you and me to an infinitely vast, infinitely good being like God. It is the only way we can approach Him in light of who He is, and anything else is deception or falsehood. To not worship Him is to be dead wrong about the way things are -- you and I are really small and God is really big. It boggles my mind how much of my day is spent outside of a state of worship. It reminds me of the time I sat on top of a 12,444 ft mountaintop in the middle of an incredible wilderness and played cards with some friends because we'd gotten bored of the view and thought we'd seen it all. Stupid.
God also has used worship to show me His heart for His children. My freshman year, I was conversing with a guy on the beach about the gospel and made some headway, but later that night, I found myself in an amazing time of worship at a large group meeting and God's presence was really there. I can't describe what that's like. It's better than having VIP seats at a Neil Diamond concert, which I've definitely done, which was awesome in itself. But I think God really told me that night, "How much better would this be if that guy from the beach were here worshiping next to you?" What a blessing we have in God, and in the joy He gives us, and in our worshipful relationship with Him, and how deserving He is. How stingy I am not to think of others. It's like me eating Thanksgiving dinner and everyone else sitting around hungry with empty plates because I'm too self-centered to share.
That time of worship changed how I looked at God and how I looked at life. Worship is what the human voice was made for, and it's what we're made for too.
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