The future past

Sometimes I think it would be nice to go back: back before things were complicated, before life became what it is today. But there I find a problem: I’m not sure that I’d want to go forward again. And so I press on, trying neither to look backward or forward. For behind me, things are simpler. And before me looms the unknown. Tragedies and complexity are certain to lurk ahead, and I head toward them, blissfully ignorant.

Ecclesiastes 6:12 ”For who knows what is good for a man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?”

Waiting for David

I read the story of King David’s anointing in the Bible with the kids this evening.  It’s amazing how reading in a new format (i.e. a children’s bible) can give you new ways to think about the stories.

I realized something: it was a long time from David’s anointing until the time that he stepped onto the public stage and starting fulfilling his God-given role as King of Israel.  What did he do during that time? He chased sheep.

David was specifically called by God to do something, and was then placed right back into his everyday life.  How many times do you think he wondered (while tending those dumb, smelly little animals) whether God had really called him?

Of course, with hindsight, we can see that God was training David.  He was giving him the chance to learn leadership; to learn how to shepherd God’s people.  God was training his hands for war: sending bears and lions to teach David to fight, protect and kill.  But it must have all seemed like drudgery at the time.  It probably felt as if God had never called him.

Have you ever been called by God to do something, then dropped back into your everyday life?  Do you ever wonder, “Was God really asking me to do that?” Do you wonder why nothing’s changed?  Could it be because God is preparing you, making you ready for the day you’ll fulfill your destiny? Might he be using small, everyday tasks to build character, to shape your skills?

If you feel that God spoke to you at some point in your life, sit down and think about it.  Write down as much as you remember and pray for direction.  It could be that God’s not finished with that call yet.

The Night Jesus Saved Liam

March 20, 2011

After reading Jesus’s words about hell in Mark 9 before bed, Liam told me, “I don’t want to go to hell. ” I told him that there’s only one way to know for sure that you’re going to heaven. I explained our separation from God because of sin, and Jesus’s provision. We prayed the prayer of salvation together, then asked for the gift of the Holy Spirit.

I explained to Liam that he had become a Christian, and told him that he should tell everyone he knows about it.  He thought it might be fun to have everyone come over to our house for a party.

Liam also had some interesting questions. He wanted to know why I’m not perfect, even though I’m a Christian. I told him that my sinful nature still wars against the Spirit of God in me, and that I won’t be perfect until I die and go to heaven.  I told him that I’m not perfect, but I am forgiven.  And God’s now forgiven him because of what Jesus did.  Liam told me that when we go to heaven, we’ll have perfect bodies, just like Jesus.  Apparently he’s been listening and putting some of these things together. I feel like he has a very real understanding of what he prayed, and I’m so happy that he’s chosen to follow Jesus!

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Your Kingdom Come: The 4th of July

This 4th of July, I’m (as ever) torn between faith and patriotism. A friend said that freedom can never be won or maintained by any soldier or government, and that our true freedom only comes from Christ.  I have to agree, but I’m left questioning, “Then why government? And why our government?”

The answer, I believe, is that we were given stewardship of this world in the garden of Eden.  When God told us to multiply and fill the earth, to care for it and govern all that it contains, I believe that political government is part of that mandate.

The United States Government is not the answer to all things, nor the answer to ultimate freedom.  All things we have, freedom in its several types included, are ours because God has willed it so.  In the specific case of freedom, God sent his son, Jesus, to secure that freedom and redeem us for Himself.

But if we’re living out the redeemed lives we’ve been given, we can’t ignore the several mandates that political governance can  fulfill.  Far from ignoring the structures that order our communal lives, we’re to pay attention to those structures; to provide for justice and care for the oppressed.  If we call ourselves Christians, then our government should not be ignored, but attended to carefully.  We need to enter into dialogue with others, to seek optimal ordering of our communal life, to provide justice and order.  Even political freedom should be on our list of priorities if follow carefully God’s mandate to govern the earth.

You probably won’t hear me saying that our government is optimal, or that our nation is the only nation on earth with the truth.  For truth doesn’t reside in our political structures, but those structures should reflect truth if we’re obedient to the governance mandate.  You won’t hear me say that it’s the American Way to put a boot in anyone’s fundament, though that brand of overblown patriotic pride fascinates me in the same way that a car accident slows down traffic.

But you will hear me say that it’s our responsibility to craft and mold a government that reflects the character of God.  A nation with such an orientation wisely seeks justice on a national and global scale, and reflects the very good values of freedom and equanimity that we learn from our creator’s nature.  I seek to join in the crafting of such a government.  And to the extent that our government reflects this orientation, I will celebrate.  Indeed, we encourage what we celebrate, so I celebrate the political freedom that so many have worked and died to craft.  Though it’s only a reflection of true freedom from the tyranny of sin and death, it’s still a worthy reflection.

And as I pray that God’s kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven, I will work in the space and time I occupy to make that prayer a reality.  Not that I seek to create a theistic government, but a government that reflects the goodness of God.

Sarah: A picture of grace

In slowly reading through the Bible again, I’ve come across the story of Abraham and Sarah (or Abram and Sarai, as they started).  I’ve always pictured Sarah as a graceful figure, since she’s both the wife of the great Abraham and the mother of a nation.  But a different picture of her has emerged as I’ve been reading.

Almost every mention of Sarah’s name is coupled with an example of bad judgement.  First, there’s the Egyptian deception in Genesis 12 (admittedly not her idea, but she was definitely involved).  Next, in Genesis 16, she brings her servant, Hagar, to Abraham for use as a sex-slave.  Hagar’s desires are never mentioned or considered.  Then, when her plan works and Hagar’s expecting a baby, Sarah’s jealousy drives her to cruelty.  This cruelty is so extreme that pregnant Hagar leaves the community and flees into the desert in an act of near-suicide.

Yet in Genesis 17:15-16, God give Abraham great promises for Sarah.  He changes her name from Sarai, which means something like ‘my princess’ or possibly ‘quarrelsome’, to Sarah, which means ‘princess’.  God promises to bless her and give her a son. She also receives the female version of Abraham’s blessing: that she’ll be the mother of many nations.  God goes even further than he had with Abraham, and promises that kings will descend from her line.  Noticeably absent from the text is the reason God is blessing her.  In Abraham’s case, his faith has already been credited to him as righteousness.  In Sarah’s case, her account was surely overdrawn.  God is clearly not blessing her because she’s great, but because God is great.  He’s showing her unmerited favor, blessings she clearly doesn’t deserve.

So Sarah emerges for me not as an illustration of gracefulness, but as an illustration of grace.  If God looks at people like Sarah and decides to bless them, how can I not wish blessings for the undeserving?  Am I to place myself above God and wish ill of anyone? In the end, God’s blessings, when they’re seen in the light of their undeserved-ness, serve to glorify Him, not Sarah.  The blessings may have been for her, but they’re still God’s blessings.

Why religion and politics shouldn’t mix

This is one of my favorite topics. I’ve been thinking about it and reading about it for some time now. I don’t have it figured out to my satisfaction, but I came to a new thought this morning, so I figured I should share.

I was pondering the nature of religion and the nature of politics, and I realized they have something inverse in common. The reason religion and politics should not mix is partly due to their relationship to compromise.

Religion in general and Protestant Christianity in particular should not compromise. The philosophical game of religion is played on the field of truth claims.  Negotiating or compromising on truth claims is like kicking field goals for your opponent.  It’s not a good idea.  This is the (very good) reason that people have died for their religious convictions throughout the centuries.

Politics, on the other hand, lives with an entirely different relationship to compromise.  For a politcian, compromise IS the game.  Legislature and governance is all about negotiating between competing interests.  If different interests didn’t exist, governments wouldn’t need to exist, either.  That’s why politics is so easy to criticize, fun to talk about (e.g. ‘Those idiots in [Washington, Sacramento, Madison, Dakar, etc.] wouldn’t know the right thing to do if it bit them on the hand!”), and so demanding of wisdom.  Compromise IS the task of government, and it’s not an easy one.

So every time a pastor asks his congregation to vote a particular way, he is speaking from one realm into another: he is speaking from a position that’s used to wielding divine authority to make absolute truth claims into a realm where issues always have different sides and a single voice bearing the best idea is not guaranteed to make headway.  In politics, strength of conviction falls subservient to the power of coalition.  That’s not a fault of politics; it’s just the nature of politics.  But this pastor is likely to create an unproductive voting bloc.  He’s likely to create or encourage a group of people to take a position they can’t back down from.  In the end, it makes for bad politics and bad blood.

And every time a governmental leader speaks toward the realm of religion, it’s natural (but altogether inappropritate) that he should ask for compromise and ecumenism.  He, who is used to compromise as a way of doing business, naturally expects this from the realm of religion.  And he’s dead wrong.  Religion thrives on truth claims, and asking religious people to deny what they know as truth for some greater good is like asking religion to drink poison.

There are many outworkings of this continued tension between church and state, and they’re likely to be messy.  I can’t claim any kind of special ability to negotiate such perilous waters just because I understand the larger principle.  But I can offer one guiding question for discussion: what can we do to build up a HEALTHY wall of separation ‘twixt the two very important areas?

Why tell the Shepherds? An Alternate Theory.

I read the Christmas story to Liam a lot these days, and I’ve been thinking about the shepherds.  Why did God choose to send his angelic army-choir to an obscure hillside where a bunch of blue-collar Joes were working the night shift?  We don’t know anything about these particular shepherds, but we can assume that, like today’s fast-food workers, they wouldn’t be working such an ignominious job if they were skilled, educated, or of good family reputation.

The commonly-accepted theory is that God sent the angels to announce the birth of the Messiah to these shepherds because God cares about the lowly, the poor, and those without power or position.  There may also be a reference to Jesus’ future role as shepherd of the church, the Good Shepherd, who would lay down his life for his sheep.  It’s also interesting to note that King David, a central figure in first-century Hebrew identity, also started his working life tending sheep.

I’d like to throw out an alternate theory.  I wonder if God sent his angelic choir-army to tell the shepherds about Jesus’ birth because he knew no one would listen to them.  In this scenario, God’s having a tough time keeping the news to himself.  He has to tell someone, but he can’t prematurely risk the life of Jesus by letting word get out amongst the powerful, who would tell the ruling elite.  As it is, Joseph has to flee with his family to Egypt for two years to avoid having Jesus killed by King Herod after the three Magi inadvertently let the news slip.

The book of Luke (the only Gospel to record the angelic visit) says that everyone who heard the tale of the baby in the feeding trough was amazed.  But who were those people that heard?  Other shepherds? The families of shepherds?  Think about who the shepherds would tell. They probably spread the news at the local watering hole, not in the synagogue.  They were more likely to talk about it at the sheep auctions than in the halls of power.  In other words, the shepherds were safe precisely because they weren’t connected to power.

There’s another piece of evidence for this, though it’s an argument from silence.  If the angelic announcement had been to more savory or well-born folk, Jesus would have been watched, famous his whole life.  He wouldn’t have exploded onto the scene as if from nowhere at the beginning of his ministry 30 years later.  People in the synagogue in Nazareth wouldn’t have said, “Isn’t this Joseph’s son? Why is he teaching with such authority, unlike our priests and teachers of the law?”  They wouldn’t have expected so little of him because he would already have had a reputation. A visit from a warrior of light, after all, is hard to forget.

Leave a comment to let me know what you think.

Roman worship

Ed. note: Written by hand February 9, 2008 at our home at 491 S. Reed Ave. and posted later. 

History is full of treasures and surprises.  In Will Durant’s Caesar and Christ I was privileged to read about the Roman religious sacrificial system.  It turns out that animals sacrificed to Rome’s gods were thought to become the gods themselves.

Thus it was that the sacrifice was thought to be not just a sacrifice of an animal, but a sacrifice of the god himself.  I see in this the seed or foreshadow of the concept of Christ’s substitutionary atonement.  After the sacrifice was complete, the animal’s internal organs were given to sacred flames and the flesh served to the priests and worshipers.  Thus it was hoped that the god’s strength and glory would pass to the people.

There are several ways to interpret the relationship between this practice and Jesus’ Godly sacrifice.  One is that Christianity merely borrowed the concept from older religion.  That may be.  But I prefer to see in this practice a foreshadow of humanity’s spiritual center of gravity: Christ’s sacrificial death and glorious resurrection.  The Romans were no fools, and this drama, this death-of-god, is hardwired into humans past and present.  It’s a truth we know with a source we don’t.

Jesus may have had this god-sacrifice in mind when he said in John 6:53, “Unless you eat the flesh of the son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.”  He was indicating that the glory and strength of God can pass into our lives only because of his sacrificial death and atonement.

The ancients would have understood, and now I do, too.