Stand there

While reading the Exodus story recently, I rediscovered a verse I had marked long ago. It is Exodus 14.14. God is giving Moses instructions on how to prepare for the Egyptian army's onslaught. "The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still."

The footnote in my study bible comments on that verse: A necessary reminder that although Israel was "armed for battle" (13.18) and "marching out boldly" (v.8), the victory would be won by God alone.

This truth threads its way through the Bible, providing one of the consistent, clear messages we have about the character, the person of God.

Jonathan knows this. When he is bravely attacking the enemy, he states "Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few." I Sam14.6 He knows that his own efforts are within the larger context of God's action.

David knows this. When he stands up to Goliath, he says "All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord's and he will give all of you into our hands." I Sam 17.47 The battle belongs to the Lord.

When threatened by terrifying attacking armies, God's prophet tells Jehoshaphat, "the battle is not yours, but God's" and Jehoshaphat is so convinced that he marches out to meet the enemy with his singers out front -- singers shouting the praises of God! 2 Chron 20

In Ephesians, we are told to put on the armor of God, to dress for battle. It is a wonderful "call to arms" but once suited up for war, what are we told to do? Stand. Stand firm. And pray. Just as He told Moses to be still, we are told to stand.

We are called to line up on his side. We are chosen to be on the winning team. We are invited to rest in the power of his strong arm. Our fortress and our strength. It's up to us to respond to that call. It's up to us to wear the jersey, the uniform proudly, being identified as one of God's. But the hard work, the saving work belongs to God. We can't save ourselves. We can only stand by and watch Him work his saving miracle on our behalf.

I think this is hard for people raised in a culture that takes such pride in self-sufficiency, in pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps, in the can-do spirit. We want to wrestle control out of God's hands so that we can take charge and do it ourselves.

This is where we have to separate ourselves from our culture. We have to learn to be still and accept the fact that this is something we can't do for ourselves. The battle belongs to the Lord.

And when we align ourselves with Him, we are more than conquerors. After all, if God is for us, who can be against us? How amazing is that!? And nothing can separate us from his commitment to us. Romans 8:28-39

When I was a child I was often told 'Don't just stand there, do something.' Not long ago I heard that God might say to us, 'Don't DO something, just stand there.'

This does not mean that we are to shut down completely; we are called to good works. What it does mean is that our salvation is assured by the glorious work of God and He deserves my praise and adoration.

Be still and know that I am God. Ps 46:10

An excerpt

from Eat This Book by Eugene Peterson: (no comment from me needed!)

"What we must never be encouraged to do, although all of us are guilty of it over and over, is to force Scripture to fit our experience. Our experience is too small; it's like trying to put the ocean in a thimble. What we want is to fit into the world revealed by Scripture, to swim in this vast ocean.

"What we are after is first noticing and then participating in the way the large world of the Bible absorbs the much smaller world of our science and economics and politics that provides the so-called world-view in which we are used to working out our daily concerns.

"This means we have to abandon all condescending approaches to the Bible. Most of us have been trained in what is sometimes termed a "hermeneutics of suspicion." People lie a lot. And people who write lie more than most. We are taught to bring a healthy suspicion to everything we read, especially when it claims authority over us. What's going on here? What's the hidden agenda? What's behind all of this? The three modern masters of the hermeneutic of suspicion are Nietzsche, Marx, and Freud. They taught us well to take nothing at face value.

"Much of this is useful. We don't want to be taken in, manipulated by clever wordsmiths or enticed by skilled publicists and advertisers to buy things we don't want and will never use, involved in some soul-destroying program by a smooth-talking propagandist. In matters that have to do with God, we are doubly on our guard, suspicious of everything and everyone, including the Bible. We've learned to our sorrow that religious people lie more than most others -- and lies in the name of God are the worst lies of all.

"But as we narrow our eyes in suspicion, the world is correspondingly narrowed down. And when we take these reading habits to our reading of Holy Scripture, we end up with a small sawdust heap of facts.

"Paul Ricoeur has wonderful counsel for people like us. Go ahead, he says, maintain and practice your hermeneutics of suspicion. It is important to do this. Not only important, it is necessary. There are a lot of lies out there; learn to discern the truth and throw out the junk. But then reenter the book, the world, with what he calls "a second naivete." Look at the world with childlike wonder, ready to be startled into surprised delight by the profuse abundance of truth and beauty and goodness that is spilling out of the skies at every moment. Cultivate a hermeneutics of adoration -- see how large, how splendid, how magnificent life is.

"And then practice this hermeneutic of adoration in the reading of Holy Scripture. Plan on spending the rest of your lives exploring and enjoying the world both vast and intricate that is revealed by this text."

The Good Towels

Recently my mother-in-law came to visit for a few days.

I had just completed some refurbishing around the house that included some work in the guest room and guest bath. I was pleased that she would get the benefits of the time/dollars I had spent in that area.

On the day she was to leave, she told me that she had been careful not to disturb my new towels. She said that she had found some old towels to use and would take them to the laundry room before she started home.

I was stunned. She hadn't taken advantage of the offering I had made. In fact, she had gone to extra effort to avoid what I had provided. She had dug into the back of the cabinet to find some nearly threadbare, unraveling towels that I didn't know were there.

I felt sad and frustrated. I know that she was trying to be nice; I know her actions were not meant to sadden me, but I would have enjoyed doing something special for her.

I wondered if we do similar things to God. Thinking about the blessing of prayer, I know that God has told us in many different words that we should pray, pray continually, pray persistently. He tells us how to connect with Him. He invites us.

Then we decide that this isn't big enough to pray about, or this isn't something I should bother God about, or this is something I should be able to handle on my own. And we don't accept his offer to us.

Instead, we try to bear the load alone. We struggle. We hurt. When all the while, He would dearly love to be able respond to our prayers.

It seems that we aren't very good at accepting gifts. We aren't very good at enjoying the moment. Or, perhaps we get confused and try to apply the principles of sacrifice in the wrong circumstances.

Sometimes it's okay to use the good towels, be grateful for them, and enjoy them.

Way

Finding the way is an interesting process.

Sometimes I have specific directions to follow. Go 3/10 of a mile to the purple house and turn left. I love people who can give clear, concise directions.

Sometimes I know generally where I am going, and I use the trial and error method to find my way. I know it's got to be somewhere along here. No, this is a dead-end. It must be the next street. This works if I have some basic knowledge to start with, such as I know the park is near the top of the hill or I know her house is in this neighborhood.

Jesus doesn't give us detailed directions; he has a different approach. He tells us that he is the way. An odd statement, when you think of it. We are given a person, instead of a set of steps.

So, we examine his words to learn how to live. We examine his life to see what it looks like. We complain that there are too many expectations. We complain that the rules aren't clear enough. Either way, we make excuses for why we can't be just like Jesus.

Henry Blackaby writes, "Suppose you had to cross a field full of land mines. A person who knew exactly where everyone of them was buried offered to take you through it. Would you say to him, 'I don't want you to tell me what to do. I don't want you to impose your ways on me?' I don't know about you, but I would stay as close to that person as I could. I certainly would not go wandering off. His directions to me would preserve my life. He would say, 'Don't go that way, because that way will kill you. Go this way and you will live.'

Too many of us read that paragraph and think we would certainly follow the way if we thought there were land mines around, if we thought it was a matter of life or death . . . only later do we think: oh yeah, it IS a matter of life and death.

Nearness

Lately I've been noticing how often I run across the word "near" in the New Testament.

John the Baptist and then Jesus himself tell us that the kingdom is near (Matt 3:2, Matt 4.17) . Jesus instructs his disciples to preach the same message (Matt 10.7).

The power, the authority of the God of the Universe is close to us, is immediate, is imminent. The message seems to be, "Pay attention! Something BIG is going on right under your nose!"

Later on, Paul preaches in Athens and explains to his audience that God is not far from us. He too is telling his listeners, "You have the wrong idea about the Almighty God; he isn't up on Mount Olympus, sequestered in his palace. He is close at hand."

To impress this idea on us, Jesus emptied himself and came to this earth as a human. Emmanuel -- God with us!

Along with our other ideas about God -- omnipotent, omnicient, omnipresent -- we need to add the idea of nearness. Attentiveness. Involvedness. Immediacy.

When a family or friends have a strong relationship, we call them "close" and we mean that there is an intimacy between them. Our God offers us this kind of relationship with Him, and he has taken the first step, coming near to us.

He doesn't stop there. He works to move us closer to him. Eph. 2:13 mentions that we "who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ."

This closeness changes our lives. We are to rejoice, be gentle, and not be anxious -- because the Lord is near and that gives us peace! (Phil 4:4-7) The writer of Hebrews advises us that by drawing near to God we can have assurance and hope (Heb 10:22-24) and can encourage each other.

And not only is God near us, but Christ's return is near too. And that nearness can help us be patient and stand firm, according to James (5:8).

John opens his Revelation (1:3) by saying that the time for Jesus' return is near. I hear this to mean more than hours/minutes of human time -- I hear this as comfort that our God has not abandoned us; He is near. Imminent.

His power is only lightly veiled from our consciousness. His love is juxtaposed against our daily decisions. Since God is omnipresent, being near can't speak just to physical proximity. Since God (and Jesus' return) is outside of the structure of time, being near can't just speak to days/months.

Perhaps nearness speaks more to accessibility. God is near.

Restraint

I've been rereading The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey. I recommend it to you. There are so many interesting thoughts in it.

One of those thoughts has to do with what the author describes as God's restraint.

During the temptations in the desert, Jesus could have taken whatever action he wanted. He could have done any of the things Satan proposed. He could have done twice what was asked of him. He could have done something far more spectacular than Satan asked.

But he chose to leave Satan empty-handed.

In the garden. On the cross. In the manger. In so many contexts, Jesus could have taken action, but he chose to restrain his power. He chose to approach us gently.

He chose to leave us space to decide for ourselves. He protected us from his overwhelming might, giving us the option to love him or not.

And later when scoffers charged that the second coming was slow, God waited patiently not wanting any of us to perish. Restraint.

Absolute power in absolute control.

Mind control

The words "mind control" evoke such negative connotations. My brain conjures up helpless victims who suffer at the hands of evil governments or sinister scientists.

In a similar way, "brain washing" also makes the back of my neck crawl. The idea of someone taking over my thoughts is abhorrent.

It's not that my brain thinks such great thoughts that it shouldn't be disturbed. It isn't that my mind is always completely focused on right ideas. In fact, my mind, my thoughts are often part of my problem as I try to live the Christian life.

Much of the time we can keep from doing rotten things, but it is much more difficult to keep our thoughts in line. We can avoid stealing and murder, but how do we keep our minds from going where they shouldn't go? (Didn't Jesus tell us that it isn't just about what we do, but also what we think?)

And it's not just a matter of purity. What about other kinds of self-destructive thinking? What about the negative self-talk that can cripple our outreach or stunt our spiritual growth. And what about the debilitating anxiety that can shut down our faith or steal our joy?

The area inside our heads is a battlefield where Satan wins far too often. The father of lies knows just when to inject a little self-doubt, just when to whisper second-thoughts, just when to distract us with a focus on our failings. And often we can hide from others how much of our thinking belongs to Satan.

The Bible speaks to this struggle often and vividly: Take captive every thought (2 Cor 10:5). We should avoid anxiety and futility in our thinking (Eph 4:17) and instead pursue wholesome thinking (2 Peter 3:1) and uplifting thoughts (Phil 4:8). Those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. (Romans 8:5b)

Clearly, what goes on between our ears is important, and when we are told to learn self-control, it surely means control not just of our arms and legs but also of our thoughts. We are told to love God with all our minds (and everything else) so we can't relinquish our heads to Satan; we must repell his advances, reserving our minds for God.

In this way, "mind control" becomes a spiritual discipline, and "brain washing" is the kind of cleaning that I should seek out for myself.

Empty out the bad, the destructive, the negative . . . and be filled with the Spirit, with praise, with thanksgiving and encouragement. We must actively avoid anxiety and similar mental dead-ends. We are advised to set our minds on better things, more fruitful things. It's a constant battle to keep Satan off the property that rightfully belongs to God.

Goals

For a good many years I have had a personal tradition: every January, I take a day off from work on a day when I know I can be undisturbed at home.

I spend the day in Bible study, meditation, prayer, and goal setting for the year ahead.
I have a deep conviction that the goal setting cannot be done apart from the other three.

Although there is no set agenda for the day, I generally spend the morning in Bible study, meditation, and prayer. I rarely begin my goal setting until afternoon -- after I have spent several hours honoring God, devoting myself to Him and His will for me.

Most years I set a variety of goals for myself -- goals in my spiritual walk, in my interpersonal relationships (family/friends/etc), in my professional life, in my personal health/well being, and sometimes in general areas (learn a foreign language) or creative areas (write short stories). I write down whatever goals seem appropriate.

When I approach goal setting, I don't shy away from any area of my life because I believe all of my life to be wholly God's. I am certain that if I offer it to Him, God can use growth in any area of my life.

When I'm ready to start my goal setting, I generally begin with a statement of who I am at this point in my life. I describe myself. I begin with "I am a child of God." Then I describe the external facts about my self , such as my age, etc. (I usually write notes as I move through this day because it helps me remain focused.)

Next, I think back over my life experiences. I medidate on how God has been faithful to me in the past. I note His blessings.

Next, I think about the promises God has made concerning my future. I recall what I know about God's character and his relationship with His children.

Finally, I prayerfully list the goals that come to mind for the year ahead. I offer them up to God for His consideration. I end by praying my submission to His tender care.

This tradition has been a rich practice for me over the years. Often during the year, I see doors open and unanticipated opportunities blossom, allowing me to move forward in achieving some of the goals on my list. Occasionally I see doors close. Some years it seems that God adds His own (different) things to my list.

Perhaps God looks forward to these goal setting days of togetherness as much as I do.
" . . . those who plan what is good find love and faithfulness." Prov 14:22

One another

I have a 4" x 4" framed print that shows two jersey cows. Above their heads, are the words "Let us love" and below it says "One Anudder." I love this silly little knickknack because of who gave it to me.

When I first began teaching adult Bible classes, I taught a lesson on the "one another" verses in the New Testament. You know the ones I mean:

Love one another (John 13:34)
Honor one another above yourselves (Romans12:10)
Live in harmony with one another (Romans 12:16)
Stop passing judgment on one another (Romans 14:13)
Accept one another just as Christ accepted you (Romans 15:7)
Serve one another in love (Gal 5:13)
Be patient, bearing with one another in love (Ephesians 4:2)
Be kind and compassionate to one another (Eph 4 32)
Submit to one another (Eph 5:21)
Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another(Col 3:13)
Teach and admonish one another with all wisdom (Col 3:16)
Encourage one another and build each other up (I Thess 5:11)
Encourage one another daily (Heb 3:13)
Spur one another on toward love and good deeds (Heb 10:24)
Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling (I Peter 4:9)

And, there are more . . .

The relationships among us MUST be important if they are mentioned so often!

As I said, I had just started teaching adult Bible classes, and I wasn't sure I was capable. I worried that I wouldn't have anything worthwhile to offer.

A few days after my 'one another' lesson, a wonderful woman from our church brought me the framed cows with a note thanking me for the Bible study. Her simple gesture of encouragement came at a time when I thought I might not continue teaching. Her kindness led me to try again.

I've often looked at that knickknack and thought that she embodied the lesson of those 'one another' verses. I spoke the words of the lesson, but she -- through her actions -- she taught me the lesson.

She was a master at the art and power of "one-anothering."

Making Jesus Angry

Mark tells a story about Jesus being angry.

If you are like me, your mind raced ahead to the cleansing of the temple. I have a vivid mental picture of Jesus (that may have originated in one of those colorful illustrations found in my childhood Bible), whip in hand, driving animals out as moneychangers fled.

But that was not the occasion of Jesus' anger as recorded in the second gospel. In fact, when I turned to read the several accounts of Jesus clearing the temple, I discovered that the text does not say that Jesus was angry.

In Mark 3:5, however, "Jesus looked around at them in anger." He had asked the people in the synagogue which was lawful on the sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill. This should have been an easy one for them, but they remained silent. That's when Jesus became angry.

He was "deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts."

In Nehemiah (9:29) we are told that the Israelites had stubbornly turned their backs on God, became stiff-necked and refused to listen to God.

The writer of Psalm 78 described his forefathers as a stubborn and rebellious generation, whose hearts were not loyal to God, whose spirits were not faithful to him. (v.8)

Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Hosea, and Zechariah describe the Israelites as stubborn. And we are told that God was angered by their behavior (Deut 31:16-18, Judges 20:20; Ps 78:21; Ps 95:10).

I decided to explore the meaning of the word so I grabbed a handy American Heritage Dictionary, where I learned that the first definition of stubborn is "unduly determined to exert one's will."

What made Jesus angry? What has made God mad throughout all history?

People who choose their own will over God's will for us.

Fearful

I doubt that any among us would claim to have a fearful approach to life. We recognize that we are called to a better, more powerful lifestyle than that.

Now I will admit to being 'cautious' in some circumstances and 'measured' in other situations. I am 'thoughtful' and am not given to just jumping into the deep end.

But whatever words you put on this approach to life, the end result is much the same: inaction. Sometimes I'm so cautious or measured, that I do nothing, and I think the root of my caution is fear -- maybe not quaking-in-my-boots fear, but fear nonetheless.

In the book of Acts, the disciples are characterized by boldness. Paul writes to various churches, encouraging them to make the most of their opportunities. (Gal. 6:10, Eph 5:16, Col 4:5) We are encouraged to set aside what hinders and RUN the race (Heb 12:1)

No, I don't think we are supposed to be reckless or thoughtless, but I do think there is supposed to be an element of venturousness in our approach to life. Some opportunities don't come around more than once; we have to be willing to move forward.

You can't step into the same river twice, according to Heraclitus. Shakespeare may have overstated this a bit, but he said, "There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries."

Paul tells us that we are not just conquerors, but more than conquerors. (Rom 8:37) He urges us to believe that we can do all things through Him who strengthens us. He describes a lifestyle of faith and confidence.

When did we stray from that advice? When did we succomb to the "what ifs"? When did we grow so fearful of failure that we stopped moving forward? (And just what do we view as "failure" anyway; have we misdefined it?)

Although we are supposed to be humble, we aren't told to be timid.

Getting the most out of church

We hear these things all the time:
"I'm just not getting much out of church."
"That church isn't meeting my needs."
"I thought the worship service was flat this morning."

And I have to admit that it is easy to slip into the "entertain me" mode of church-going. I've found myself in that posture more than once.

At other times, I have found myself in a very different mindset. I notice that when I have been spending a lot of time in deep Bible study, when I have been consistently in praise-prayer, when my mind is fixed on seeking God above all else, my trip to the church building on Sunday morning is much different. When I approach a Sunday morning worship service from a week of devotion, the church experience is much richer.

Here are some thoughts on how I get the most out of church:

(do these things during the week before going to church on Sunday morning)
Pray by name for the people I will be worshipping with.
Pray by name for the people who are shut-in/sick and will be unable to participate in the worship.
Lift for God's blessing the Bible teachers and their lessons for all Bible classes.
Pray for the minister's lesson preparation and delivery.
Spend regular times in meditation on scripture, letting God speak to my heart.
Invite someone to go to church.

(the night before)
Go to bed at a decent hour so that I will be rested and ready to worship.

(Sunday morning)
Get up early and pray for the church and its outreach to the lost.
Pray that those who are looking for excuses to skip church don't find them.
Pray that God will work through everyone in the church to welcome seekers.
Make sure I have plenty of time to get ready for church so that I can avoid being harried.

(at the building)
Take time to greet everyone I see, pausing with those who need to talk.
Watch for people who need extra assistance of any kind.

(during worship)
Glance around and thank God for my fellow worshippers.
As I look at each one, thank God (specifically if possible) for the talents of that person.
Recognize that God has gathered this group together for His purposes.
No making grocery lists or other unrelated notes!
Pray that the church's eyes will be opened to see the good works planned in advance.
Worship God for his daily care and saving grace.

When I prepare myself for worship, my heart experiences church in a new way.
I know this is a simplistic list, but it's a starting place for me.

Interruptions

I'm not so good with things that interrupt what I am doing or what I have planned to do. I tend to be task-focused.

Because of that orientation, I am a great list-maker. At any given time, I have lists of things to do at the office, another list of things to do at the house, possibly a grocery list, and maybe some other lists as well.

I calculate in my mind just how many things I can check off before noon, what I can get done today or this week, and on and on. I have it all planned out.

And as a result, I don't do well with interruptions.

I know my life is in sharp contrast to the pattern Jesus demonstrates.

He tells his disciples that he has come to teach the people, and more than once as he prepares to teach, he is interrupted by people bringing their sick to him for healing -- even taking off the roof to lower a man close to Jesus! Each time he has compassion for them, and his plans to teach are delayed while he takes time to heal.

In Luke 13 when he is teaching in a synagogue, he sees a woman crippled for 18 years who can't even stand up straight -- so he interrupts his own lesson to heal her.

He has plans for getting away for some down time (Mark 6:31) but the people follow him. He has compassion for them, allows his rest to be interrupted, and teaches them. He even feeds them dinner --- not what he had planned.

Over and over, Jesus demonstrates that loving God and loving your neighbor means that you respond to people when they need you -- regardless of what you had planned instead.

People are more important than To Do lists.

The interruptions of my plans might just be the most important things I do.

Knowing, part 2

I think we also get confused about what it means to know scripture.

Our approach to scripture reflects our check-off approach to our Christian lives. The thinking goes like this: I've read this scripture. I've studied this passage. I know what it says, and I know what the commentaries say about it. I've delved into the historical and social context. I know this scripture.

Later on, maybe years later, I read the same scripture and I learn new things from it. Maybe because I am older, have different experiences in my background, or approach the text from a different mindset -- or maybe because the Spirit reveals something new/different to me -- I know the scripture, but in a different way.

I think we get confused because we have the attitude that knowing scripture is a static kind of thing. It's that check-off mentality.

We don't leave room for scripture to be the living word of God. We don't allow for the working of the Spirit.

"Knowing scripture" is a noble goal, and we should aspire to greater and greater familiarity with the text. We should meditate on it, pray over it, and discuss it with others.

I wonder, however, if "knowing scripture" can become a straight-jacket that blocks our ability to continue learning about the nature of God through his word. If our thinking is: I know this scripture. I don't have to struggle with it. Been there, done that -- then further Bible study has no impact on our thinking.

Wasn't that part of the problem with the religious leaders Jesus knew? They knew scripture, but they were unwilling to accept anything different from their agreed-upon interpretations. They stopped hearing God. They stopped growing.

May we never stop growing! May we continually approach God's word with ears to hear, regardless of what we think we know.

Knowing

I think we get confused about what it means to know God.

We are familiar with all the verses that encourage us to know God and be known by Him. We want to know Christ and the power of his rising. We shudder at the idea that He would say to us, 'depart, I never knew you.'

We talk about knowing God relationally, rather than just knowing about God. And I think that's good.

But I think we are making some mistakes in the area of knowing God . . . maybe the same mistake the folks in Nazareth made when they talked about how well they knew Jesus. There was no doubt in their minds that they knew him -- they knew he was a carpenter, and they knew his brothers and mother by name. They knew his sisters. (Mark 6)

The problem is that they were blinded by what they knew -- or thought they knew.

I wonder if we make that mistake with God too. We study, we debate, we worship -- and we become certain in our knowledge of God. We think we know who He is and what He does and what he said in scripture. We've got it nailed, so to speak.

And I think that's what blinds us.

We have it so outlined and codified and parsed, that there is no elbow room left for God to be God. We have saved the file. We have tied a bow on the package. We are done.

But our God is infinite, limitless, unbounded. Our tiny brains can't know all there is to know about Him, and so by definition, we should expect Him to surprise us. We should expect the unexpected. We should be delighted by His capacity to astound.

In Nazareth, the people were sure they knew him -- and that led to a lack of faith, and that led to fewer miracles. Our self-certain knowledge of God probably has the same result. Because we are sure we know all about God, we are blinded and can't see anything that differs from our (incomplete) understanding.

Let's vow to recognize the fact that God is beyond our human understanding. Let's watch for God to take unprecedented steps. Let's enjoy His power at work in our world; let's pray that he will indeed do more than we can imagine -- or anticipate.

Let's be careful of being so confident in what we "know."
Let's be wary of letting our self-certainty diminish our faith.

Kingdom thoughts

Kingdom of God (Kingdom of Heaven)

I've been meditating on that phrase recently. It's another of those combination of words in the scripture that I think I blaze past without really absorbing the full meaning. So I've been taking time to try to delve into what is intended.

In the first place, having grown up in the U.S. -- I don't have an experiential understanding of kings and kingdoms. My thoughts and attitudes are permeated with freedom and individual liberties and inalienable rights of determination. Perhaps there is a little bit of that "master of my fate, captain of my soul" thrown in there -- although that's English, not American. Historically, we as a people resist being "subjects" to the king.

Because of my distinctly independent mindset, I don't readily understand sovereignty or absolute authority, as vested in a person. I was taught as a child that no one person -- not presidents, not popes, no man -- was infallible. I was taught instead to respect law (civil and scriptural.)

As a result, understanding God as king and understanding the kingdom of God is uphill.

Not long ago I meditated through Matthew and now I am meditating through Mark. Kingdom is such an important concept in those writings. Jesus tells his followers that the kingdom of God is near.

Growing up, I was taught that he meant that the church would soon be established -- Okay, maybe so, but is there more to it than that?

One big-picture teaching is that the 'kingdom of God' is where God is the supreme authority, where He rules, where He is acknowleged as King. It is a spiritual kingdom that is unrelated to any geographic location or any spot in time. It includes the church but is not limited to the church.

And so when God enters our world as Jesus, He brings his authority, his power, his kingdom near to us.

In fact, throughout the gospels, various people comment with amazement about the authority they see in the teaching of Jesus, in his miracles, in his power over demons. Authority is an inescapable aspect of Emmanuel, God with us.

And God's position as King, His absolute authority and power -- is unchanged by humans' failure to acknowledge the King and the Kingdom. All of creation recognizes Him, even if we don't. If we didn't shout hosanna, the rocks would have.

We are invited to become citizens of the king. We are invited to voluntarily ally ourselves with the one who will be victorious over all other kingdoms. He will welcome us if we subject ourselves to his rule.

Subject ourselves. Ah, there's the part that is unnatural for me. My rights, my exalted value as a person is so ingrained in my American thinking. Kings and kingdoms are so unfamiliar to me.

10 Sayings

We have been studying the Ten Commandments, and I was interested to hear that the better translation would be Ten Sayings or Ten Statements.

I was also interested to hear the discussion about the purpose of those ten sayings.

During our growing up years, most of us were taught that the ten were indeed commands, directions on how to live. God is telling Man what the rules are for living properly in this world . . . rules for relating to God and rules for relating to fellow man. God is "laying down the law." Or maybe a softer approach: God knows best how things should be done so he is sharing with us the do's and don'ts that will make life better for us because he loves us.

This perspective usually leads to teachings about rule-keeping and obedience. . .

A different perspective suggests that the ten sayings are for the purpose of revealing the nature of God. With each of the ten sayings, we learn what God approves and disapproves. As we know more about Him, His nature, we move into closer relationship with Him. (If you know that I like classical music or who-dun-it novels, you know me better; if you know that God disapproves of stealing, you know Him better.)

This perspective leads to teachings about knowing God. . .

My natural inclination is to agree with both.
Yes, the ten sayings were given with both purposes in mind.

In fact, I find this same duality of purpose in all of scripture.
Is the Bible given to us to provide guidance on how we should live? Yes.
Is the Bible given to us to help us learn the nature of God? Yes.

I know many who shy away from the idea of the Bible as a rulebook. That sounds so harsh. And Americans in general tend shy away from the idea of obedience. We are fiercely independent and don't want anyone telling us what to do!

On the other side, however, I think there are many among us who would reduce the Bible to JUST a rulebook, missing the rich inferences about the God who inspired the book. In some cases, I think we take this rulebook approach because we are too lazy, too shallow, too whatever to wrestle with the text and too fearful to let the Spirit work on us during the wrestling.

And to muddy the waters a little: I think there are more than just two purposes in God's words to us.

Church

Because the church exists in this world, we tend to approach the church as though it were a part of this world. We expect the church to have the characteristics of other groups of people we experience daily.

We tend to think of the church as being like the company where we work, the professional association we join, a user group we participate in, a social group we belong to, and so on. We construct our expectations of church, based on our knowledge of other groups.

In fact, the church is something other-worldly. As originally designed by the Maker, the church is a place (not literally) where things work differently. Different rules apply.

Unless we take it over and make it in our own image . . .

Sitting in the pew yesterday, I was thinking about these things, and it occured to me to write an echo of the beatitudes -- those verses where Jesus talked about God's view of things, which differs greatly from our human view.

Anyway, as I thought about the church, I thought how glad I am that there is room for every one of us in God's body. The rules of other human groups -- who is valuable and who isn't, who is important and who isn't -- don't apply.

Here goes:

• Blessed are those who sing off key, for their songs are music to God's heart;
• Blessed are the socially clumsy, for they will be woven into the fabric of the church anyway;
• Blessed are those with the inability to verbalize their faith, for they will have the chance to preach through service;
• Blessed are the physically unlovely, for they will be viewed through the lens of brotherly love;
• Blessed are the professionally unsuccessful, for that is not how God measures people;
• Blessed are the self-centered, for God can use them in spite of themselves;
• Blessed are the least of the church members, for they will be exalted.

Aren't you glad you are called to be a part of God's church?

Interpreters

Last month I had my first experience teaching with an interpreter at my side, conveying my English words into the listeners' language.

It was a fascinating learning opportunity for me.

A few months earlier, a preacher from South America came to our church and spoke on Sunday morning with an interpreter from our church, translating his words for us. I noticed that the preacher spoke in short, powerful sentences most of the time.

I recognized that the short sentences allowed me (as listener) to get the translation more immediately. And I suspected that it was easier for the translater. Indeed, when the speaker used a longer, more complex sentence, the interpreter struggled.

So as I prepared my lessons for the far away land, I determined to tell my lessons in short, straight-forward sentences. I didn't want the duplication involved in translation to dilute or diminish the lesson.

I also guessed that the underlying structure of the lesson should be direct, with a small number of main points. I suspected that introducing a translater creates a layer of complication for the listener and so further complication should be minimized.

I taught two lessons with interpreters -- one a male interpreter and one a female interpreter. In each case, the interpreter picked up the cadence of my lesson so that the interpretation seemed almost an echo of my words. I was surprised to discover that I felt supported by my interpreter. The interpreter seemed to come alongside me and give my words the wings they needed to bridge the gap to my non-English listeners. . . . which made me think about how the Spirit assists me when I am in prayer. (Romans 8:26-27)

I also noted that with the use of simple, declarative statements, the teaching was much more potent. The unadorned story of the Bible was powerful. When complicated sentences and intricate reasonings fell away, the foundation biblical teaching was awesome.

In a way, I felt that I was an observer of my own lessons, watching the Spirit reach the students, and it was an inspiring experience. The Word is indeed sharper than a two-edged sword and capable of the most delicate surgery (Heb 4:12-13) as it reaches into the core of our beings. It was a joy to watch Him at work.

Order of learning

Isn't it interesting that the order in which we learn things has something to do with how we understand them?

For instance, as a child I learned about church before I learned about God.

From a young age, I was admonished that it was important to go to church. In my childhood, a good person was often referred to "a faithful member of (whatever) church." Within the church, I heard approving comments of "he/she is here every time the doors are open."

It's interesting, isn't it, that there is no mention of God in any of those statements.

So I learned about God through the lens of the church, instead of the other way around. I accepted the concept and reality of church, and then as I learned about God I tried to fit Him into that frame.

My starting place was the church in my town, with all its failings and imperfections and misunderstandings; no wonder some of my perceptions of God were askew.

In more recent years I've been trying to think through church and its role through the lens of what I now know about God. When you begin with a loving, powerful God, and then consider the role of the church, the view is startlingly different.

What a difference that order makes!

Restoration

The town where I live has a number of delightful historic buildings.

In downtown, shiny glass office buildings stretch toward the sky immediately adjacent to two- and three-story structures built more than 100 years ago. The combination results in a special kind of charm or personality that feels much more approachable and friendly than some downtown business districts.

As historic preservation has grown in importance over the years, we have seen dumpy, abandoned old buildings experience amazing transformations. Eyesores have been turned into centerpieces. Buildings to be avoided have become sought-after addresses.

Sometimes the restoration seems nothing short of a miracle. A dirty, broken-down building becomes a gleaming show-place. A trashy, ugly house is changed into a delight to the neighborhood.

I've often admired the skill of the craftsmen who can replace the broken, damaged pieces and parts with something new and lovely -- while always staying true to the original design. I stand in awe of the carpenters and masons who have the talent to breathe new life into a structure.

Recently someone called my attention to four of the early words in the 23rd Psalm -- "He restores my soul."

In some ways, I am like those buildings that need repair.

When I have lived my life in such a way that my inner self is damaged or broken, God can bring newness and revive me. When I am battered and dirty from the daily challenge of living life in a fallen world, the Good Shepherd can refresh me and prepare me to try again to live a life worthy of Him.

When no one else -- even me! -- sees value in me, God sees me for what I can become. He sees the cleaned-up potential when I am still ramshackled and abandoned.

I am the result of God's workmanship (Ephesians 2:10), and He is an expert craftsman. May I never doubt His power to make new.

Acting

Although I have been on stage from time to time, it would not be accurate to say that I've ever been an actor. My experiences are limited to silly skits and acting out stories for kids.

I am interested in acting, however. I remember hearing Marlon Brando and others talk about the "Method Acting" they found successful. Under this technique, if an actor's character was supposed to cry, the actor thought of something sad in his own life to bring tears.

In more recent years, actors have been taught to go more deeply into the character; to imagine the character in all sorts of circumstances to explore how the character might react. In this way, they would get to know their character from the inside out, and thereby be able to play the character more successfully.

We've all read stories about actors who actually spent time in circumstances similar to the role they were going to play in a movie. By spending time in the surroundings, the actor is seeking to get "inside the head" of the character so that he can portray the character more believably.

It occurs to me that to some degree we should be working, preparing, studying to act the role of Jesus. We should be exploring how Jesus would react in circumstances. (WWJD) We should be trying to get inside his head. (Phil 2)

We are called to be imitators of Christ; we are called to ACT like Jesus. Each morning we should "put on" Jesus. Throughout the day we should impersonate him. Think like him. Love like him.

And our internal efforts should produce external results. Characteristics of Jesus should shine through our personalities. Those around us should see Jesus in us.

So, if we are accused of "putting on an act" -- maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Change

It's possible that in the last 20 years more has been written in the business world about "change" than any other topic. Business experts discuss how to ensure an organization is "nimble." For a while, all you could hear was how readily a company could abandon its paradigm. The focus has been on change.

In schools too, the issue of change has been a frequent topic. Because of the information explosion and the rapid pace of change, educators were encouraged not to teach facts, but to teach research skills -- not to teach information, but to teach adaptability and problem solving. This would prepare our young people for change.

It's as though we -- in this generation -- had discovered the idea of change. Some were frightened by it and resistent; some were energized by it and eager.

From the time of creation, however, our God has been a God of change. Creation itself attests to that. God spoke, and change occurred. The ideas of growth, development, and metamorphesis are fundamental to all of creation.

On a more personal level, we are told that we need to "become" more like Christ. We are told to "put on" the new man. We are urged to grow, mature, be transformed in our minds.

Long before our current society latched onto the idea of change, God was beaconing us to be something different/better today than we were yesterday. God is looking for change in our actions, in our thinking, in our character.

Which leads me to ponder: how am I different today? have I grown any since yesterday? am I altered by my recent encounters with God? Or do I look in the mirror and then walk away without any change?

And a corollary idea: shouldn't I expect the people around me to change? don't I do them a disservice by pigeonholing them as a certain sort of person and assuming that they will always be like that? shouldn't I be encouraging them to blossom?

Rather than being threatened by change, followers of Christ should be championing change in ourselves and in those around us . . . urging each other on to new thoughts, new understandings, new ways of being like Christ.

Years ago I read that one of the most valid prayers is "Change me!" We often pray for changed circumstances, but we don't often grow brave enough to pray "change ME!" We prefer that the other person, the situation, the outcomes be remolded to fit us -- an amazingly self-centered approach when you think about it.

But dare I say it? Dare I risk the me that is familiar? Dare I trust God enough to request that He go to work on me? The answer has to be yes.

Lord, change me!

Tentacles

Once I saw a time-lapse video of a vine growing. The plant sent out frail little tendrils, extending them into the air. The tiny tendrils swirled in a circular motion, reaching for something to grasp.

When the tendril at last made contact with something, it curled around it in a spiral, growing longer and embracing the object more and more securely. Eventually, the vine would thicken and strengthen and tighten its grip on whatever it had encountered.

I have seen this process at work in my front yard. We have a wisteria plant that takes over the handrail leading to the front door. We call it our monster plant because if we don't trim it regularly it seems to reach out to our visitors, seeking to trip them up and keep them from our front porch.

I've been out of the country for ten days, away from my job and office for a two full weeks. As I drove to work this morning, I mused at how 'separated' I felt from my job. The challenges of the office seemed sort of removed from my heart.

I reflected that it has been good to strip the tendrils away for a period of time. Only by clearing away the entanglements of my job did I recognize how intertwined with it I had become. Only by stepping away from the demands of my position was I able to see myself separated from the identity of my job title.

It also made me think that this is the way we are overtaken by the world, by worldliness . . . not by a vicious onslaught, but by tiny creeping tendrils that seem harmless. Frail little ties to the cares of this earth. Daily tasks and responsibilities that supplant God gradually but surely.

Perspective

When I'm trying to see something clearly and understand its shape, I often look at it for a while from one position, then move to another position to look. By looking at the object from more than one perspective, I can get a better sense of it.

This principal is played out in all sorts of everyday experiences. When I look at sculpture. When I look at a historic site. When I look at a building.

I realize that I've just had that same opportunity to see -- only on a larger scale.

I usually see God from the perspective of my life, my culture, my upbringing, and my part of the world. Recently, I had a chance to see God through a very different culture in a different part of the world.

The change in perspective was amazingly helpful. By viewing Him from the position of people very different from myself, I learned a lot about Him. I have a clearer understanding of His "shape" and a better sense of His enormity, His essence.

By seeing Him from another angle, I understood a different dimension of God's nature. What a blessing! What an encouragement.

Community

Riddle: How can you travel 8500 miles and 12 time zones and still be at home?

Answer: Find the church.
Truly, the unity of believers is an amazing thing.

Relinquishing

Lately there have been an unusual number of big issues going on in my life. Things I might be inclined to worry about. Things I could obsess about.

But it occurred to me that I could simply choose not to go that route.

I could "hand it all over." I could turn it loose. I could let it go. I could just simply choose to let God handle these situations. I could leave it in His hands.

What a relief.

And how logical.

After all, I can't really make things happen. I am not in control of things, other than my own reactions to circumstances.

God, on the other hand, is powerful and able to make things happen.

So . . . I'm in the business of handing things over these days.

Tour guides

When I travel, I'm the person who reads the guide book. When I arrive in a new place, I know the lay of the land. I know where the historic sites are. I know what shouldn't be missed.

When they were growing up, my kids learned to just assume that I would know all sorts of things about our vacation spot. Weirder than that, however, strangers in the places we would visit would stop me and ask for directions -- and I could usually help them!

I tell you this story because it will help you understand why -- as I prepare to travel to Kazakhstan -- I was strangely comforted by a segment of Rob Bell's book Velvet Elvis, where he says,

"Missions is less about the transportation of God from one place to another and more about the identification of a God who is already there. It is almost as if being a good missionary means having really good eyesight. Or maybe it means teaching people to use their eyes to see things that have always been there; they just didn't realize it. You see God where others don't. And then you point him out.

"Perhaps we ought to replace the word missionary with tour guide, because we cannot show people something we haven't seen.

". . . So the issue isn't so much taking Jesus to people who don't have him, but going to a place and pointing out to the people there the creative, life-giving God who is already present in their midst.

". . . Tour guides are people who see depth and texture and connection where others don't. That is why the best teachers are masters of the obvious. They see the same things that we do, but they are aware of so much more. And when they point it out, it changes the way we see everything."

Bell then mentions the woman who anointed Jesus with expensive perfume -- how some thought it was a waste of money, but how Jesus offers such a different perspective. He's a tour guide, pointing out the reality/beauty others missed.

I'm glad to have this lesson before we travel to a land far away.

I'm glad my job isn't to haul Jesus over there. I'm much more comfortable with being a tour guide to point to the God who is already there.

Parables in life

This morning I woke up early in my hotel room. Working out of town, away from familiar surroundings is disorienting.

I noticed that the window of my room -- with its spectacular view of the city -- was foggy and hazy with condensation. The view I had enjoyed the night before was hidden.

Eventually, just before I left the room to begin my day of work, I walked over near the window and sat down to pray.

Much to my surprise, when I sat down, I had a perfect view of the early morning downtown cityscape. I had to chuckle.

God never misses an opportunity to teach me. I love that about Him.

It was a perfect parable: My vision is often clouded, obstructed, short-sighted -- just like the window in my hotel room. The only way for me to gain a clearer view of all that surrounds me is for me to stop and pray.

What a wonderful lesson He provided -- and I enjoyed it throughout the day!

And perhaps even better, although I was in a city away from my family, I didn't feel alone.

Holy Bible

When I was a kid, we handled the Bible with great reverence. It would have been unthinkable to toss a Bible into a back seat of a car, for instance. It was always placed gently and always face up.

When I went away to a Christian college, I learned a much more casual approach to the Bible. I was encouraged to mark in my Bible -- horrors! And many of the male Bible majors -- they were all male back then -- carried small testaments around in their hip pockets. Dear me.

That casual or familiar approach to Holy Scripture was good in one respect: it helped me feel that I could approach the text, debate what I found there, and apply it to daily life. The Bible took on the mantle of a textbook for my Bible classes. My relationship with the Bible became a largely intellectual one. I was challenged by -- and fascinated by -- all I could learn from its pages. I developed a love of Bible study.

As years passed, I was intrigued that there was always something new in scripture to catch my attention. I joked with my friends that 'that verse wasn't there the last time I looked!' and 'I guess that's why they call it the living word!' Ha ha. But laughing aside, I was fascinated that no matter how much I studied the Bible, I found it fresh and startlingly pertinent to my life circumstances.

And then there were those times when a verse -- that I had studied many times before -- would suddenly stand up off the page and turn from black and white to technicolor. (If this has happened to you, you know what I mean.) Suddenly the meaning would transform from two dimensional to 3-D or maybe holographic. (Side note: and when this happens, you can't tell someone else about it because they look at you like you've gone bonkers and say things like, 'yes, of course that's what it says...') This has happened to me often enough now that I recognize the work of the Spirit and take joy in the certainty that God is actively revealing something to me.

As years passed -- and life became difficult from time to time -- I discovered something else in those same pages: the intimate support provided by God's Word. In daily devotional Bible study I found the incredible comfort and amazingly personal voice of God speaking in great specificity to my struggles. I was stunned by the nearness of God, by his almost palpable presence emanating from the pages when I was so in need. No longer was my relationship with the Bible a solely intellectual one.

My experiences with the Biblical text over the years have led me back to a greater reverence for the Bible. It's so much more than just a textbook. Maybe it's like a textbook written specifically for me. Maybe it's like a guidebook that is updated every morning and continually serves up advice for my latest struggles.

It's like a hole in space/time where I can catch a glimpse of God and He can reach through to surround me with His comfort. And His correction.

The Word of God -- in all manifestations -- is an awesome gift from our Father. It really is "living and active" (Heb 4:12) and is worthy of our reverence and lifelong study.

Ordinary

More than a decade ago, I read Henry Blackaby's Experiencing God. Today as I worked on an upcoming lesson, I sought out a memorable passage:

"When you believe nothing significant can happen through you, you have said more about your belief in God than you have said about yourself . . .

He goes on to say: "An ordinary person is who God most likes to use. Paul said God deliberately seeks out the weak things and the despised things, because it is from them that He can receive the greatest glory (see I Cor. 1:26-31). Then everyone will know that only God could have done it. If you feel weak, limited, ordinary, you are the best material through which God can work!"

Makes me think of that old refridgerator magnet I saw one time: the only ability you need to have to be used by God is availability.

Rebuilding

Ten of us are traveling to Almaty, Kazakhstan at the end of this month. While there, we will conduct a youth retreat campout in the mountains outside of town. They have asked us to prepare four lessons from Ezra and Nehemiah. The working title for the series is "Rebuilding the Walls of Faith."

Toward the end of the book of Nehemiah, the priest Ezra reads the law to the people, and they weep when they realize how they have failed to keep God's commands.

Have you ever been in that spot? I have.

From time to time, God reveals to me -- often in technicolor -- where I have failed in an area of life where I thought I was doing well. When that happens, it breaks my heart (which is a right response!) It is easy, however, for me to become ashamed and embarassed. At that point, it's easy to start beating up on ourselves, and that's when Satan will whisper, "You just aren't good enough. You might as well quit trying."

But God's whisper to me is very different: "I have a plan for you, a plan prosper you, to give you hope."(Jeremiah 29:12) "There is no condemnation." (Romans 8:1) God's message to us is good news. A message of healing and power. A message of blessing and joy.

That's why Nehemiah tells the people who are weeping, "Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." (Nehemiah 8:10)

Like them, I have an invitation to move forward with renewed purpose and dedication. I can offer my life as a living sacrifice because of the joy of salvation and forgiveness and God's generous love.

Meditating on a verse

The joy of the Lord is your strength. Nehemiah 8:10
A familiar verse. We study it. We quote it. In recent years, we sing it.

But to me, it has always sounded glib. Very slick. A pat answer. I've always thought that the deep meaning of the statement eluded me.

Sitting in my pew during worship, I tried to disect it to improve my understanding, to get inside the meaning of those simple words.

The joy . . . the deep-down delight?
the quiet contentment?
the welling-up-gladness ?
the can't-be-contained ear-to-ear grin?

The joy of the Lord . . . the delight the Lord Himself feels?
the delight He provides for me to feel?
the delight He has in me as His child?
the delight/goodness that is the essence of God?

is my strength . . . gets me through the tough spots?
empowers me to a life of service and dedication?
sustains my daily life?
protects me from the evil around me?


The joy of the Lord is my strength.

Humans like us

A longtime friend -- veteran teacher of many Bible classes for small children -- told me once that we make a mistake when we call the people described in scripture "Bible characters." Her complaint was about creating a larger-than-life aura around the men and women of the Bible stories we teach kids.

After all, it's only reasonable that if they are superheroes, then their lives are super lives and their interaction with God is super too -- not like mine. That reasoning separates me from the promises of the Bible and from God himself in a fundamental way.

I think James is addressing this (5:17) when he says Elijah was a man just like us. Elijah had his ups and downs. Elijah was exemplary one day and down in the pits the next. Just like us.

In his book Hearing God, Dallas Willard writes, "The humanity of Moses, David and Elijah, of Paul, Peter and Jesus Christ himself -- of all that wonderful company of riotously human women and men whose experience is recorded in the bible and in the history of the church -- teaches us a vital lesson: Our humanity will not by itself prevent us from knowing and interacting with God just as they did.

Don't you love that? Not only can their story of faith be our story of faith, their God our God, but their interaction with God can be repeated in our lives.

That's why God told us about them.

Be still

A few years ago I taught a lesson on Psalm 46:10 -- "Be still and know that I am God."

The lesson explored the fact that our society values action. 'Busy hands are happy hands.' 'The idle mind is the devil's playground.' 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.' Being still runs counter to our 'can do' spirit, our American self-sufficiency.

The lesson then explored how exactly we can be still, how we can wait on the Lord, how we can learn not to default to random activity as a replacement for recognizing God's sovereignty.

As a conclusion for the lesson, I wrote a prayer.

Over the years (the lesson was presented in July of 2003) I have received numerous requests for copies of the prayer. So I am posting it here for any who want it.



Gracious Lord,

I am intentionally stilling my physical and mental activity in order to place myself in your hands.

I am consciously making my body rest in your presence. I am halting all the busyness of my hands and feet. I am waiting in your presence for your decisions, actions, steps.

I am forcing my mind to focus on you and your awesome power and love. I am putting all my worries, all my fears, all my self-justification aside. All the self-talk, all the mental chatter is stopped for me to meditate on your love for me and the safety of your wisdom.

I am being still because I know that my frantic actions and thoughts serve only to distance me from you and your peace.

I am waiting like a child in full confidence that you, Father, know what is best for me. I rest in the security that you always work things together for good for those who love you.

I breathe in your peace, knowing that you can do immeasurably more than I ask or imagine. I rest in you, and in my weakness, your strength is made perfect. I wait for your solutions that come in your time.

I pray all these things through the name of your Son, who showed us your wisdom and love and power.

Amen

ks 7/8/03

The value of shared experience

Last February I attended a national Christian women's conference in San Antonio. A couple dozen of us went together. We shared rides from Austin to SA; we shared hotel rooms; we had meals together; we sat together at the conference and heard the same speakers. When we returned to our home church, we enjoyed telling others about the conference.

Interestingly, when we returned I noticed that when I saw anyone who had been on the trip, I felt a special kinship to them. I felt noticeably closer to those with whom I'd attended the conference. As I reflected on the psychological results of shared experience, I remembered the same result when I participated in Trek a few summers ago.

Sharing time, events, and/or work creates a bond. Hearing a presentation of ideas together creates a shared reference point for future conversations.

In the same way, shared worship experiences create community. Hearing a sermon together shapes our minds. Congregational prayer -- when done right -- binds us together in our approach to God. To an even greater extent, congregational singing builds connections among us as we lift up a shared offering to God. (I think congregational singing has a greater result than congregational prayer because it's easier for every individual to participate actively.)

God of course knows us better than we know ourselves. Long before we realized the value of shared experience, He gave us the Lord's table. In the opportunity to share the bread and wine, He was addressing the phenomenon of building community through shared experience.

When believers work together to feed the hungry (for example), we not only benefit the recipients, we are built up/strengthened as a body. As living stones built into a spiritual house (I Peter 2:5), we are cemented by shared experience.

Emptying

Recently I was reading the crucifixion story and was struck by the fact that even his clothes were taken from him. The soldiers gambled for them, winner take all.

Phil 2 came to mind. I wondered if there is a meaningful parallel.

When Christ left heaven to become a man, he emptied himself of all the trappings of heaven. As he left his human life, he was emptied of all earthly belongings.

Metaphors

On Father's Day I was thinking about God. I was thinking that by looking at fathers we understand certain aspects of God's nature.

I learn a lot from the metaphors in the Bible. God is like a shepherd in his caring for us. God is like a king in his sovereignty. Jesus is the Way.

But it occurs to me that we have it backwards: we look at fathers and think about how God is like them. In fact, however, it is fathers who have been fashioned in a way to be reflective of God.

It is understandable that we think of the metaphors backwards because of the chronological order of our learning. We experience fathers in our daily walk -- up close and personal -- before we mature in our relationship with God. Fathers have skin on them while God is invisible. Only later in life do we realize the real order of things.

God was first -- and He created fathers and shepherds and kings in his image. The metaphors in the Bible spring from God's stamp on his creation. He isn't like us; our world is like Him. He created the world with glimpses of himself throughout.

His essence is seen in the patterns of life... in shepherd's concern, in king's sovereignty, etc. Much like a writer cannot avoid self-disclosing in his prose and a painter tells something about himself in every piece of art. Our Creator's nature is woven throughout creation.

God isn't like a Father; He is the origin of fatherhood.