Last week, a friend of mine brought up an excellent point that sums up a lot of why I do what I do. He pointed out that there are only 2 books of the Bible named for women: Ruth and Esther. And there is only one other book where women are equally as present as men: Song of Songs. "So why is it," he asked, "that in these three particular books, God is more absent than anywhere else in Scripture? In Ruth, He is mentioned only in dialogue, never as an active character. In Esther, He is never mentioned at all. And in Song of Songs, well, He's not exactly what we remember from that book..."
My immediate response to my friend was more abrupt than I expected.
"Well, duh." I said, "That makes total sense."
"Why?" he asked. And this is what I told him.
I am 100% convinced that women feel the absence of God more keenly than men. Think about it. When two guys suddenly lose touch and don't talk for weeks, months, even years, for no apparent reason at all and then cross paths (at least in my experience) they immediately pick up where they left off and have almost no resentment about the silence. And when women observe this, it freaks us out. Granted, we have that girlfriend we haven't heard from since that wedding a few months ago and we can call her any time for a laugh, but let's be honest, women need consistent affirmation of relationship. Not necessarily constant, mind you, but at least consistent. And a man's ability to not need that is just plain strange.
Interestingly, it's the exact same situation with our relationships with God. I have known several men who have gone through a 'dry season' only to suddenly find God in an alley somewhere and magically be back where they were as though God never left. And I sit and wonder, how do they do that? For myself and many women I know, when we go through a season of silence or emptiness, the longer we're in it, the harder it is for us to get out. Our despair deepens exponentially the longer it lasts. But when we do make it out, everybody back up because this is huge!! There are tears, there's fireworks, there's laughing, and there's usually lots of hugs. And when we are reunited with our Prince of Peace it sets a fire in our souls.
We see this in Hagar's experience in Genesis. After years of being viewed as nothing more than a slave and a pawn, after decades of serving an old woman who hates her only to be told that she must bear a son to this woman's husband, a son who, according to the law mind you, would not be considered her's, but her mistress's child. After all that, she flees into the desert and there, she meets God. In the midst of her desert, she meets Him. And that experience moves her so deeply that she, a woman and a slave, becomes the only person in history to give a name to the God of the Universe. And that name is El Roi, the God Who Sees Me. And you better believe He does.
God made men and women, both in His image. I know that you know this in your very soul. Eve was the one to whom God gave the need for affirmation of relationship. Eve was the one to whom God entrusted that beautiful piece of Himself. Let me say this very clearly: women were created to especially miss God when He's not around. So, OF COURSE the books of the Bible that focus on women are going to be about...you guessed it...women who have survived that absence. Women who have overcome the desert. Women who have come face to face with their Maker and declared that He is El Roi. Because He knew we would need them to show us how it's done. It is good, indeed it is right that Hagar's should be our response as women, because we embody the very heart of God that demands to be desired. It's very simple really. The pieces of God's character that He gives to each one of us determine how we feel about and respond to what He says.
For some perspective, let's consider what would have happened if instead of Hagar, a man had met God in the desert after a long absence. What would he do? After an incredible encounter with the God of the Universe, what would his response be? Well, the Bible is chalk full of these kinds of stories, so we actually know the answer. Granted, Noah has been surrounded by water, not sand, but after God saves him, Noah builds God an altar and kills a lot of animals on it. When God appears to Abram in Genesis 12, Abram builds an altar. Isaac builds an altar in Genesis 26 and Jacob builds one in Genesis 33. Moses builds an altar in Exodus 17 when the Amalekites are defeated. I could go on for awhile because the judges and kings of Israel were altar-crazy too, but I think you get the picture. When men encounter God and have victory in Him, they like to build things. This helps us understand why Peter wants to build three tabernacles after the Transfiguration.
Now, building monuments is not a bad way of remembering God's glory. I'm a history person, so I can say that. But the absolute worse thing that men in the church can do to women is give the impression that building a tabernacle is a better response than being in intimate relationship with God. Remember earlier when I said that a man's ability to not need consistent affirmation of relationship is strange to us women? I meant it. Because we need it. And needing that does not make us needy. It makes us the caretakers of that special piece of God's heart that demands deep, right relationship.
Ok, let me wrap this up. The worst thing a Christian man can do to a woman is give the impression that he bears God's image more than a woman. By the same token, the worst thing a Christian woman can do to a man is the exact same thing. Personally, as a woman, I don't feel that I have any authority to comment on what part of God causes men to respond and be in relationship with Him the way that they do. But, I do feel that as a woman, I can definitely speak to other women about what pieces of God affect our hearts towards Him, His Word and where He's placed us in His world. This is why I have agreed to join a writing team for another blog called ChristianPig, operated by a good friend of mine named Justin Hartford in Tacoma, Washington. Feel free to check out the website, christianpig.com. I'm very excited about this, but that being said, this is the only time I'm going to mention it on Eat. Pray. Plank. because this is still our space. What I'm writing for ChristianPig will not be all that different from what I write here, but I consider this a special platform where women especially can find grace, truth, and hope for who they are created to be in Christ. I know it has definitely given that hope to me and I pray that you have received a bit of it too.
Saturday, 5 March 2016
Monday, 22 February 2016
Responsible Platforms
Social media gives us a lot of different avenues and outlets for expressing ourselves.
We can portray ourselves as all manner of political, spiritual, creative or intellectual. We can emphasize our job, our kids, our community involvement or all three. We can show the world a version of ourselves that may or may not be authentic, but more than likely, we will make sure it's a version others will like.
I've been struggling this weekend with people asking me to 'explain myself' through social media outlets. I've been asked to write an online bio for another blog I'll be writing for soon (more on that later), submit a cover letter explaining my passion for a potential job offer, and share my thoughts on the structure of my church's young adults gathering via an online survey. Most of these are not writing prompts that require a 10 page response, but I could definitely give each of them at least that much if they let me.
Cramming all the thoughts, passions and goals of my 5'6" self into 250 words or less is difficult. I'd rather just talk to someone. Even if I only said 250 words, at least they would hear the eagerness in my voice, see the anticipation in my eyes, maybe even feel the motivation in my handshake. But alas, Eat. Pray. Plank, Facebook and Twitter are my platforms and I must find a way to convey all of this into something you can try to understand in only a few minutes. No pressure.
My plight is not an uncommon one. Political bloggers, foodies, pastors, people who work for advertising at United Airlines and Donald Trump all try to achieve a similar level of transference in just a few moments of your time. Some do this very well. Others should just stop. I won't name names for either category, but I will say that as our world becomes increasingly instant, we have to be on the lookout for responsible platforms and realize that they take time to establish.
Let me explain. In my Religious Epistemology class (a one-night-a-week gathering where we discussed how we know what we know about religion and constantly asked, Are you sure?), we explored the characteristics of a Responsible Christian, an Irresponsible Christian, a Responsible Atheist and an Irresponsible Atheist. Responsible Christians and Atheists know why they are Christians and Atheists and if you ask, they can tell you. You might not like it, but they'll be able to give you a reason that, hopefully, is at least structurally sound. Irresponsible ones...well, they get caught up in a 'cause' and don't know why. They tend to be sheep following a blind shepherd and this is why political campaign managers like to share videos on Twitter of Irresponsible Voters who favor their opponent. By showing that their opponent's followers are dumb, they can somehow prove that their opponent is also dumb. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn't.
The point is, we all have an opportunity to be Responsible or Irresponsible (fill in the blank)s. Christians, moms, feminists, accountants, cat lovers. Each of us has the opportunity, wherever we are and whatever we're doing in life, to be able to back up why we do what we do OR to defend our merely surface-level existence with 'just because'. I have friends on Facebook who have been posting some articles lately that I fundamentally disagree with, but I rejoice that they express themselves on a Responsible Platform, not a foundation of sand. I'd prefer coffee with a Responsible Socialist friend over an Irresponsible Evangelical any day of the week.
If you take nothing else away from this post, understand that being a Responsible (fill in the blank) takes time. There's a reason that successful businesswomen take the time to get an MBA, that engaged couples go through marriage counselling and that following a recipe requires prep time. And it's not unlike the reason that Jesus didn't start His ministry until He was 33. If you're trying to start something, trying to be someone, trying to go somewhere, take the time to make sure you're putting your best foot forward and do not let the necessary process burn you out. If you're wondering what to do and how to express yourself during that process, I would say to simply be honest. Because an Irresponsible Christian does about as much good for the Kingdom of God as a Responsible Atheist, but I would argue that an Honest Christian is closest to the heart of God.
We can portray ourselves as all manner of political, spiritual, creative or intellectual. We can emphasize our job, our kids, our community involvement or all three. We can show the world a version of ourselves that may or may not be authentic, but more than likely, we will make sure it's a version others will like.
I've been struggling this weekend with people asking me to 'explain myself' through social media outlets. I've been asked to write an online bio for another blog I'll be writing for soon (more on that later), submit a cover letter explaining my passion for a potential job offer, and share my thoughts on the structure of my church's young adults gathering via an online survey. Most of these are not writing prompts that require a 10 page response, but I could definitely give each of them at least that much if they let me.
Cramming all the thoughts, passions and goals of my 5'6" self into 250 words or less is difficult. I'd rather just talk to someone. Even if I only said 250 words, at least they would hear the eagerness in my voice, see the anticipation in my eyes, maybe even feel the motivation in my handshake. But alas, Eat. Pray. Plank, Facebook and Twitter are my platforms and I must find a way to convey all of this into something you can try to understand in only a few minutes. No pressure.
My plight is not an uncommon one. Political bloggers, foodies, pastors, people who work for advertising at United Airlines and Donald Trump all try to achieve a similar level of transference in just a few moments of your time. Some do this very well. Others should just stop. I won't name names for either category, but I will say that as our world becomes increasingly instant, we have to be on the lookout for responsible platforms and realize that they take time to establish.
Let me explain. In my Religious Epistemology class (a one-night-a-week gathering where we discussed how we know what we know about religion and constantly asked, Are you sure?), we explored the characteristics of a Responsible Christian, an Irresponsible Christian, a Responsible Atheist and an Irresponsible Atheist. Responsible Christians and Atheists know why they are Christians and Atheists and if you ask, they can tell you. You might not like it, but they'll be able to give you a reason that, hopefully, is at least structurally sound. Irresponsible ones...well, they get caught up in a 'cause' and don't know why. They tend to be sheep following a blind shepherd and this is why political campaign managers like to share videos on Twitter of Irresponsible Voters who favor their opponent. By showing that their opponent's followers are dumb, they can somehow prove that their opponent is also dumb. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn't.
The point is, we all have an opportunity to be Responsible or Irresponsible (fill in the blank)s. Christians, moms, feminists, accountants, cat lovers. Each of us has the opportunity, wherever we are and whatever we're doing in life, to be able to back up why we do what we do OR to defend our merely surface-level existence with 'just because'. I have friends on Facebook who have been posting some articles lately that I fundamentally disagree with, but I rejoice that they express themselves on a Responsible Platform, not a foundation of sand. I'd prefer coffee with a Responsible Socialist friend over an Irresponsible Evangelical any day of the week.
If you take nothing else away from this post, understand that being a Responsible (fill in the blank) takes time. There's a reason that successful businesswomen take the time to get an MBA, that engaged couples go through marriage counselling and that following a recipe requires prep time. And it's not unlike the reason that Jesus didn't start His ministry until He was 33. If you're trying to start something, trying to be someone, trying to go somewhere, take the time to make sure you're putting your best foot forward and do not let the necessary process burn you out. If you're wondering what to do and how to express yourself during that process, I would say to simply be honest. Because an Irresponsible Christian does about as much good for the Kingdom of God as a Responsible Atheist, but I would argue that an Honest Christian is closest to the heart of God.
Sunday, 14 February 2016
The Long Haul
It's Lent already. Wasn't I just writing about Advent? How the time flies. I was baptized on Palm Sunday of 2014 so Holy Week is a big anniversary for me. It's always a really happy time at the beginning of the week, but by the end of it, it's the worst week of the year. Seriously. Good Friday, every single year, is the worst night of my year. There's no comparison. Unfortunately, it's also (usually) the most intimate conversation I have with Jesus all year, so each year I spend Lent preparing for that fateful conversation at the foot of the Cross.
This tradition of talking to my crucified Christ began when I was a junior in high school. Pastor Trey gave us all red paint brushes at the Good Friday service and during the last song, we each went to the altar and painted a giant red streak on the white sheet draped over the cross. By the end of the service, there was no white left. It was a really humbling moment. After the church was mostly empty, I went back up to the altar, sat down under the cross and wrapped my arms around that red sheet. I got covered in paint but I hardly noticed. If there was ever a moment that I believe I wept bitterly, that was it. I can't remember what was going on in my life to cause such an emotional response to the Cross, but I do remember that sitting there, I promised my Jesus I would always come back to the foot of the Cross every Good Friday. Like the women who followed Him all the way to Cavalry, I would be there no matter what kind of shape I was in, every year. And most importantly, I would allow myself to completely drown in the sorrow and despair of His crucifixion. Every year. Once a year. On Good Friday.
And that's pretty much how it's been every Holy Week since. It's painful, it's horrible, it's ugly cry face on steroids. But each year, I let my heart and soul open up and completely give in to all manner of pain and sorrow that comes with the death of my Jesus. Some years, I have no words; others I have quite a lot. Last year, there was a very serious moment where I all but shouted that He should just come down, it wasn't worth it. And even today I can hear His still small voice saying, "No, dear one. I want to do this." And then, like a candle being blown out, He was gone. And in the middle of a deathly silent Catholic church, my whisper penetrated like a pin dropping. Jesus, come back.
As I'm getting closer to this year's Holy Week, I've been preparing for my annual encounter with Jesus at the Cross. What is it going to look like this year? It dawned on me recently that it might be even uglier this year because I think my life (my behavior, at least) is in a much darker place than it was last year. I've been trying to 'fix' certain things about myself. Trying to be a better Christian. Trying to be a better friend. Feeling like I've failed at both. Today I had the picture in my mind of returning to my place at the Cross and saying, Well, Jesus. I'm back. And I'm actually in worse shape than last year.
But today at church I was reminded that Righteousness, Holiness and Redemption are not things I strive for, they are a person. When I strive for righteousness on my own, that is not the righteousness of Christ, but self-righteousness. I am trying so very hard to make myself better, to make it work, but Philippians 3:8-9 tells us that righteousness comes only from God on the basis of faith, faith that also happens to come only from God. This tells me that righteousness and redemption are not achieved, they are given, granted and become slowly integrated into my life when my faith (the faith He gives me) sticks around for the long haul. In this way, righteousness can often involve a lot of waiting.
So why am I surprised that I'm in not much better shape this year than I was last year? This is why the Bible says to fix our eyes on Jesus and that He is the author and perfecter of our faith. Both of these phrases imply a process. Sanctification, to my chagrin, does not happen overnight. If fixing my eyes on Jesus is a process and His perfecting my faith is a process, why in the world, in fact how dare I demand that He take care of my struggles as of yesterday? This is not going to be a sprint right out of the gate; it's going to demand a steady pace over a great distance. That's why Hebrews 12 tells us to run the race marked out for us with perseverance. If it was only 100 yards, it wouldn't require much perseverance, now would it?
So if anybody else is going through Lent hoping to become a 'better person' between now and Holy Week, just stop. You can't make yourself better. Only Jesus can. And it takes time. Sometimes a lot. And if come Good Friday, you and I find ourselves at the foot of the Cross in the exact same emotional and spiritual place that we were last year, that is okay. If we're in even worse shape than we were last year, that is okay, too. Because as long as we keep faithfully returning to the foot of the Cross, we are exactly where we were created to be and who we were created to be with, regardless of what we see in the mirror.
This tradition of talking to my crucified Christ began when I was a junior in high school. Pastor Trey gave us all red paint brushes at the Good Friday service and during the last song, we each went to the altar and painted a giant red streak on the white sheet draped over the cross. By the end of the service, there was no white left. It was a really humbling moment. After the church was mostly empty, I went back up to the altar, sat down under the cross and wrapped my arms around that red sheet. I got covered in paint but I hardly noticed. If there was ever a moment that I believe I wept bitterly, that was it. I can't remember what was going on in my life to cause such an emotional response to the Cross, but I do remember that sitting there, I promised my Jesus I would always come back to the foot of the Cross every Good Friday. Like the women who followed Him all the way to Cavalry, I would be there no matter what kind of shape I was in, every year. And most importantly, I would allow myself to completely drown in the sorrow and despair of His crucifixion. Every year. Once a year. On Good Friday.
And that's pretty much how it's been every Holy Week since. It's painful, it's horrible, it's ugly cry face on steroids. But each year, I let my heart and soul open up and completely give in to all manner of pain and sorrow that comes with the death of my Jesus. Some years, I have no words; others I have quite a lot. Last year, there was a very serious moment where I all but shouted that He should just come down, it wasn't worth it. And even today I can hear His still small voice saying, "No, dear one. I want to do this." And then, like a candle being blown out, He was gone. And in the middle of a deathly silent Catholic church, my whisper penetrated like a pin dropping. Jesus, come back.
As I'm getting closer to this year's Holy Week, I've been preparing for my annual encounter with Jesus at the Cross. What is it going to look like this year? It dawned on me recently that it might be even uglier this year because I think my life (my behavior, at least) is in a much darker place than it was last year. I've been trying to 'fix' certain things about myself. Trying to be a better Christian. Trying to be a better friend. Feeling like I've failed at both. Today I had the picture in my mind of returning to my place at the Cross and saying, Well, Jesus. I'm back. And I'm actually in worse shape than last year.
But today at church I was reminded that Righteousness, Holiness and Redemption are not things I strive for, they are a person. When I strive for righteousness on my own, that is not the righteousness of Christ, but self-righteousness. I am trying so very hard to make myself better, to make it work, but Philippians 3:8-9 tells us that righteousness comes only from God on the basis of faith, faith that also happens to come only from God. This tells me that righteousness and redemption are not achieved, they are given, granted and become slowly integrated into my life when my faith (the faith He gives me) sticks around for the long haul. In this way, righteousness can often involve a lot of waiting.
So why am I surprised that I'm in not much better shape this year than I was last year? This is why the Bible says to fix our eyes on Jesus and that He is the author and perfecter of our faith. Both of these phrases imply a process. Sanctification, to my chagrin, does not happen overnight. If fixing my eyes on Jesus is a process and His perfecting my faith is a process, why in the world, in fact how dare I demand that He take care of my struggles as of yesterday? This is not going to be a sprint right out of the gate; it's going to demand a steady pace over a great distance. That's why Hebrews 12 tells us to run the race marked out for us with perseverance. If it was only 100 yards, it wouldn't require much perseverance, now would it?
So if anybody else is going through Lent hoping to become a 'better person' between now and Holy Week, just stop. You can't make yourself better. Only Jesus can. And it takes time. Sometimes a lot. And if come Good Friday, you and I find ourselves at the foot of the Cross in the exact same emotional and spiritual place that we were last year, that is okay. If we're in even worse shape than we were last year, that is okay, too. Because as long as we keep faithfully returning to the foot of the Cross, we are exactly where we were created to be and who we were created to be with, regardless of what we see in the mirror.
Friday, 5 February 2016
Teach a Man Not to Clean Fish...
Waking up to bitter people on Facebook is not my idea of a good Friday.
My brother gave me a calendar-diary last year that has a different question for every day of the year for 5 years. Every year on January 8, July 4th, and December 1, I answer the same question I answered last January 8, July 4th and December 1. One of last week's question was 'What do you want to forget?'. It struck me that if I wanted to forget it, why would I write it down so I could reread it every year? Then I got on Facebook and saw no less than 4 people 'honoring' a painful anniversary. Not necessarily a death in the family, mind you, but situations where someone had hurt them. One status (paraphrased) read something that sounded like this: 'A year ago you broke my heart, destroyed me forever and taught me not to care anymore. But I'm here to tell you that moved on, I am a stronger person and I will never, ever care about people like you again.'
Admittedly, I desperately wanted to comment, Really? You moved on, huh? Tell me about that.
But this girl didn't need me to remind her of her journey through this painful memory. It was still with her like it happened yesterday. Why do we dwell on these horrible, painful relationships? Why do we hold on to hurt? For years? I want to suggest a very simple, cut and dry answer. I think we hold on to hurt because we think so little of ourselves, we assume that's where we belong.
If we know who we are in Christ, we know that we were not created to abide in pain. Christ accepts the broken pieces of our hearts, but then he puts them back together. As one of my pastors at Zootown used to say, He cleans His fish after He catches them. When Jesus opens His arms to us messy and hurting with ugly cry face, He never, EVER intends to leave us that way. So why do we insist on staying that way? How many times are we Barabbas on the steps of Pilate's palace, watching them take our chains off and put them on Jesus and we shout out, 'No! I deserve those chains! Give them back to me!' Because we don't believe Him when He says IT IS FINISHED.
I didn't unfriend this girl when I read her post. I tried to be 'that good Christian', but my prayer definitely began with 'Father, why do I have to stay friends with this person? She is such a downer on my news feed.' A few possible answers that came to mind were God's simple longing to hear me talk to Him about it (because I firmly believe God will put opportunities in our lives to force us to pray if He knows the only way we'll talk to Him is when something is literally standing in our way) or better yet, to provide a chance for Him to act in response to prayer. 2016 is only 36 days old, but I'm learning now more than ever that God has so much waiting for us if we would only ask Him for it. ASK and you will receive. SEEK and you will find. These are not suggestions, you guys. If we honestly ask Him to soften our hearts toward others, that is not a prayer I see God turning down. I think we can confidently say He would give us that every single time. Similarly, when we ask God to comfort the brokenhearted, to heal the pain of the past, to clean His fish, He is sure to deliver. Because sanctification, redemption and healing are His nature, not just towards me, but towards all his children.
It is never, ever my job to clean God's fish, especially to my standards of 'clean'. Jesus took that job while He was on the cross - He finishes His good work in His good time in a manner that is on no level determined by me. I don't have the right to selfishly do His job any more than I have to criticize my friend for her bitterness. But on the off chance He ever does ask me to be a vessel for comfort or an instrument of healing, I'm really, really glad He gave us a manual in His Word. Cleaning fish is a messy business and if you can do anything else with your life, I recommend that.
My brother gave me a calendar-diary last year that has a different question for every day of the year for 5 years. Every year on January 8, July 4th, and December 1, I answer the same question I answered last January 8, July 4th and December 1. One of last week's question was 'What do you want to forget?'. It struck me that if I wanted to forget it, why would I write it down so I could reread it every year? Then I got on Facebook and saw no less than 4 people 'honoring' a painful anniversary. Not necessarily a death in the family, mind you, but situations where someone had hurt them. One status (paraphrased) read something that sounded like this: 'A year ago you broke my heart, destroyed me forever and taught me not to care anymore. But I'm here to tell you that moved on, I am a stronger person and I will never, ever care about people like you again.'
Admittedly, I desperately wanted to comment, Really? You moved on, huh? Tell me about that.
But this girl didn't need me to remind her of her journey through this painful memory. It was still with her like it happened yesterday. Why do we dwell on these horrible, painful relationships? Why do we hold on to hurt? For years? I want to suggest a very simple, cut and dry answer. I think we hold on to hurt because we think so little of ourselves, we assume that's where we belong.
If we know who we are in Christ, we know that we were not created to abide in pain. Christ accepts the broken pieces of our hearts, but then he puts them back together. As one of my pastors at Zootown used to say, He cleans His fish after He catches them. When Jesus opens His arms to us messy and hurting with ugly cry face, He never, EVER intends to leave us that way. So why do we insist on staying that way? How many times are we Barabbas on the steps of Pilate's palace, watching them take our chains off and put them on Jesus and we shout out, 'No! I deserve those chains! Give them back to me!' Because we don't believe Him when He says IT IS FINISHED.
I didn't unfriend this girl when I read her post. I tried to be 'that good Christian', but my prayer definitely began with 'Father, why do I have to stay friends with this person? She is such a downer on my news feed.' A few possible answers that came to mind were God's simple longing to hear me talk to Him about it (because I firmly believe God will put opportunities in our lives to force us to pray if He knows the only way we'll talk to Him is when something is literally standing in our way) or better yet, to provide a chance for Him to act in response to prayer. 2016 is only 36 days old, but I'm learning now more than ever that God has so much waiting for us if we would only ask Him for it. ASK and you will receive. SEEK and you will find. These are not suggestions, you guys. If we honestly ask Him to soften our hearts toward others, that is not a prayer I see God turning down. I think we can confidently say He would give us that every single time. Similarly, when we ask God to comfort the brokenhearted, to heal the pain of the past, to clean His fish, He is sure to deliver. Because sanctification, redemption and healing are His nature, not just towards me, but towards all his children.
It is never, ever my job to clean God's fish, especially to my standards of 'clean'. Jesus took that job while He was on the cross - He finishes His good work in His good time in a manner that is on no level determined by me. I don't have the right to selfishly do His job any more than I have to criticize my friend for her bitterness. But on the off chance He ever does ask me to be a vessel for comfort or an instrument of healing, I'm really, really glad He gave us a manual in His Word. Cleaning fish is a messy business and if you can do anything else with your life, I recommend that.
Wednesday, 20 January 2016
What's In Your Tool Kit?
Several years ago, Max Luxado wrote an amazingly tiny book entitled You Can Be Anything God Wants You to Be. I wish I'd read it in high school instead of college. The basic premise is that if you make a list of things that you enjoy doing (helpful, nice things, mind you) and things you are good it, anything that appears on both of those lists may or may not but probably could be a special 'purpose area' that God has gifted you with the gifts, tools and desire to pursue.
Tools. Desire. Opportunity.
I firmly believe when God has a purpose for our lives, He always gives us these three things to go with them. They don't always come at once, but they do come eventually. I'm heading to a world missions conference this weekend, so I'll use that as an example here. If you're single and out of school with a desire to travel, I'd say you've got opportunity and desire, so let's start praying about tools like training and financial support. On the other hand, if you've been given lots of money and the opportunity to travel, but you get no joy from evangelism or going new places, maybe we should reconsider whether that's truly your purpose right now. Key words: right now.
So while we're talking here, grab some paper and a pen and make those two lists: things you enjoy and things you are good at. It certainly helped me figure out what was in my tool kit. What also helped was that I took a year off between college and graduate school. The habit of thoughtfulness and self-reflection that filled that year have become familiar lenses through which I view my life these days and I've learned a few things as a result.
First, some tools you don't realize you have until someone forces you to use them. By the same token, some tools you don't realize you're missing until you try to use them. Looking back, this was my problem. I spent a lot of time in college trying to use tools I didn't have. I jumped the gun. I tried to accomplish things in my ministry and my relationships, even my relationship with God, for which I was completely unequipped. And now that a decent amount of time has passed, I realize that time is exactly what I needed. Nothing that I was doing could prepare me for what God had put on my heart to do, only He could.
When I'm uncertain about God's timing and His plan for this tool kit He's given me, I find a lot of encouragement in Esther. She had one impressive tool kit by the time she invited the king to dinner. God had given her the tools and the opportunity, but when at last she had the desire and courage, Esther 6 tells us she invited her two targets to dinner but couldn't quite get the words out. One of my favorite women alive, Beth Moore suggests that Esther was silent because Xerxes and Haman's relationship was not at a place that her words would have been effective if she had spoken them. She needed to wait. Some of us get our desire first and then the opportunity, but we have to wait on the tools. Right now I have a good friend in seminary who's had the desire for full-time ministry for several years now and praise the Lord, he's finally getting the tools. Personally, I find myself filled with desire and a belt-load of tools, but no opportunity...at least not yet.
So for everyone out there waiting for more tools, give it time and work on using the ones you have. For everyone looking down at their tool kit, their treasure chest, the collection of crowns they will eventually lay at the feet of the Heavenly Throne, I hope this new year will be one of patient waiting and intentional sharpening. For both parties, God has given each of us the tools we need for now and He will give us the tools for our future when we need them as well. Using the tools you have now is having the faith of a mustard seed; if you don't use them now, you will never have what it takes to properly take care of that seed once it grows into a tree.
Tools. Desire. Opportunity.
I firmly believe when God has a purpose for our lives, He always gives us these three things to go with them. They don't always come at once, but they do come eventually. I'm heading to a world missions conference this weekend, so I'll use that as an example here. If you're single and out of school with a desire to travel, I'd say you've got opportunity and desire, so let's start praying about tools like training and financial support. On the other hand, if you've been given lots of money and the opportunity to travel, but you get no joy from evangelism or going new places, maybe we should reconsider whether that's truly your purpose right now. Key words: right now.
So while we're talking here, grab some paper and a pen and make those two lists: things you enjoy and things you are good at. It certainly helped me figure out what was in my tool kit. What also helped was that I took a year off between college and graduate school. The habit of thoughtfulness and self-reflection that filled that year have become familiar lenses through which I view my life these days and I've learned a few things as a result.
First, some tools you don't realize you have until someone forces you to use them. By the same token, some tools you don't realize you're missing until you try to use them. Looking back, this was my problem. I spent a lot of time in college trying to use tools I didn't have. I jumped the gun. I tried to accomplish things in my ministry and my relationships, even my relationship with God, for which I was completely unequipped. And now that a decent amount of time has passed, I realize that time is exactly what I needed. Nothing that I was doing could prepare me for what God had put on my heart to do, only He could.
When I'm uncertain about God's timing and His plan for this tool kit He's given me, I find a lot of encouragement in Esther. She had one impressive tool kit by the time she invited the king to dinner. God had given her the tools and the opportunity, but when at last she had the desire and courage, Esther 6 tells us she invited her two targets to dinner but couldn't quite get the words out. One of my favorite women alive, Beth Moore suggests that Esther was silent because Xerxes and Haman's relationship was not at a place that her words would have been effective if she had spoken them. She needed to wait. Some of us get our desire first and then the opportunity, but we have to wait on the tools. Right now I have a good friend in seminary who's had the desire for full-time ministry for several years now and praise the Lord, he's finally getting the tools. Personally, I find myself filled with desire and a belt-load of tools, but no opportunity...at least not yet.
So for everyone out there waiting for more tools, give it time and work on using the ones you have. For everyone looking down at their tool kit, their treasure chest, the collection of crowns they will eventually lay at the feet of the Heavenly Throne, I hope this new year will be one of patient waiting and intentional sharpening. For both parties, God has given each of us the tools we need for now and He will give us the tools for our future when we need them as well. Using the tools you have now is having the faith of a mustard seed; if you don't use them now, you will never have what it takes to properly take care of that seed once it grows into a tree.
Tuesday, 12 January 2016
Joseph, Meet Puddleglum
Every artist has a muse. Whether they appear in photographs, lyrics, poetry or prose, people inspire us to declare our feelings (good or bad) through art as well as the written and spoken word. For C.S. Lewis, the character of Puddleglum in The Silver Chair was inspired by his gardener in Oxford. If Lewis's gardener was half as gloomy as Puddleglum (even his name is a downer), I'm not sure I would have cared to know him. However, there are a few shining moments of truth amidst Puddleglum's constant complaining. At the climax of the story, the main characters are forced to decide whether or not to free a seemingly wretched and insane prince, who is tied to (you guess it) a silver chair. On the one hand, they are ordered to free the prince by the story's Christ figure Aslan, but on the other, untying the prince could be extremely dangerous. Puddleglum's answer to this debacle is beautifully simple. "Aslan never said what would happen if we untied him," he says, "He simply told us to do it. So we will." After they untie the prince, the only victim of his wrath is the chair itself, which gets smashed to pieces. But for us, especially as we look ahead to a new year, Puddleglum's assessment poses an interesting and practical question.
If God told me to do something dangerous without a reason, would I still do it?
I've been mulling over this for a few weeks and decided to wait until after Christmas to post about it because the concept of passing time is one of my key points. During the Christmas season, we often forget that the decisions made by Mary and Joseph are four dimensional; they don't happen as quickly as you read them on the page. When we think about the roller coaster of emotions and planning (or lack thereof, in this case) that come with a full-term pregnancy, all kinds of new questions come up that, if we consider possible answers, can drastically affect how we understand the Christmas story.
I really want to focus on Joseph for now. He is betrothed to Mary when she gets pregnant. But for how long? How did they meet? Were they really in love or was it arranged? One of my biggest frustrations with Luke 2 is that it does not tell us how Joseph found out that Mary was pregnant, only that Gabriel told him to marry her anyway.
So, did Mary tell him or did he find out from someone else? Ummm, ouch. Neither one of those seem like good conversations for Joseph. While I personally favor the former, we cannot know for sure how he learned that the woman he loved was pregnant with a child that was not his. What we can probably imagine, though, is his confusion and hurt, perhaps even a touch of jealousy or loneliness.
What happens after Joseph and Mary both know? Well, they can't hide it very long. And pre-marital pregnancy was grounds for dismissal in their community. If Mary's parents kicked her out, where would she live until the baby was born? If Joseph's parents kicked him out, where would he live until the baby was born? And if both were kicked out, how did they support themselves?
We so often forget that by standing with Mary in her pregnancy, Joseph likely suffered extreme social rejection. Even if the child was not his, everyone would assume that he was the father. In a first century Jewish community, his status as a man, carpenter and 'faithful' Jew would all be questioned. He probably lost a lot of friends, not to mention family ties and probably a good portion of his clients. He could have been the best carpenter in the community, but if he takes a pregnant woman as his wife, what good Jew is going to buy from him? Moreover, when Mary and Joseph go to Bethlehem, they're in a town full of Joseph's extended family (it is, after all, his family's home turf), but they have to look for room in an inn, which tells me that his normally hospitable family doesn't let him sleep over. Right up to the moment Jesus is born, Mary and Joseph are as 'on their own' as we can imagine. And let's not kid ourselves into thinking that this social instability ends after Jesus is born. Even after Christmas, Joseph is still a father to a child that is not his and everybody knows it.
While Joseph's story has become so much more bleak to me this year, it also rings with a unique sense of hope. First of all, it is a huge testimony to his character and faith that he stayed with Mary. To me, it is simply unbelievable. If I were Mary, I would tell Joseph to divorce me. Now there's a thought; what if the divorce was Mary's idea? What if she loved him enough to tell him to go find someone else? I have no Biblical support for that, but it's an interesting thought. But let me get back to my point.
The key difference between Joseph and Puddleglum is that Aslan demanded complete obedience without knowing the purpose. Yet in Luke 2, Gabriel tells Joseph exactly why he must do this scary, confusing, lonely deed. Mary's baby is going to change the world and while He has a heavenly Father, he needs a Daddy. And Joseph was the man for the job. In probably far-too-simple terms, I like to think that Jesus learned how to be the God of the Universe from, well, God, but he learned how to be a good carpenter and a good man from Joseph. And let's not forget that Jesus spent several more years of his life being a good, kind, single man working as a carpenter than he did being a rabbi to 12 disciples.
If you're considering making any New Year's Resolutions, I hope you'll join me in really thinking and praying about them and putting off actually starting until February 1. After Christmas and New Years, everyone is still so caught up in shopping, food and travel that they make spur-of-the-moment resolutions they are unlikely to keep. This year, one of my main resolutions is to both remember and live out the truth that even if I feel I am in an uncomfortable situation, there is eternal hope in the baby that both Mary and Joseph raised. Indeed, God put them into possibly the most uncomfortable situation imaginable to bring His Son into the world. I guess that means we are in good company. Remember, God is not looking for the most able, He's looking for the most available.
If God told me to do something dangerous without a reason, would I still do it?
I've been mulling over this for a few weeks and decided to wait until after Christmas to post about it because the concept of passing time is one of my key points. During the Christmas season, we often forget that the decisions made by Mary and Joseph are four dimensional; they don't happen as quickly as you read them on the page. When we think about the roller coaster of emotions and planning (or lack thereof, in this case) that come with a full-term pregnancy, all kinds of new questions come up that, if we consider possible answers, can drastically affect how we understand the Christmas story.
I really want to focus on Joseph for now. He is betrothed to Mary when she gets pregnant. But for how long? How did they meet? Were they really in love or was it arranged? One of my biggest frustrations with Luke 2 is that it does not tell us how Joseph found out that Mary was pregnant, only that Gabriel told him to marry her anyway.
So, did Mary tell him or did he find out from someone else? Ummm, ouch. Neither one of those seem like good conversations for Joseph. While I personally favor the former, we cannot know for sure how he learned that the woman he loved was pregnant with a child that was not his. What we can probably imagine, though, is his confusion and hurt, perhaps even a touch of jealousy or loneliness.
What happens after Joseph and Mary both know? Well, they can't hide it very long. And pre-marital pregnancy was grounds for dismissal in their community. If Mary's parents kicked her out, where would she live until the baby was born? If Joseph's parents kicked him out, where would he live until the baby was born? And if both were kicked out, how did they support themselves?
We so often forget that by standing with Mary in her pregnancy, Joseph likely suffered extreme social rejection. Even if the child was not his, everyone would assume that he was the father. In a first century Jewish community, his status as a man, carpenter and 'faithful' Jew would all be questioned. He probably lost a lot of friends, not to mention family ties and probably a good portion of his clients. He could have been the best carpenter in the community, but if he takes a pregnant woman as his wife, what good Jew is going to buy from him? Moreover, when Mary and Joseph go to Bethlehem, they're in a town full of Joseph's extended family (it is, after all, his family's home turf), but they have to look for room in an inn, which tells me that his normally hospitable family doesn't let him sleep over. Right up to the moment Jesus is born, Mary and Joseph are as 'on their own' as we can imagine. And let's not kid ourselves into thinking that this social instability ends after Jesus is born. Even after Christmas, Joseph is still a father to a child that is not his and everybody knows it.
While Joseph's story has become so much more bleak to me this year, it also rings with a unique sense of hope. First of all, it is a huge testimony to his character and faith that he stayed with Mary. To me, it is simply unbelievable. If I were Mary, I would tell Joseph to divorce me. Now there's a thought; what if the divorce was Mary's idea? What if she loved him enough to tell him to go find someone else? I have no Biblical support for that, but it's an interesting thought. But let me get back to my point.
The key difference between Joseph and Puddleglum is that Aslan demanded complete obedience without knowing the purpose. Yet in Luke 2, Gabriel tells Joseph exactly why he must do this scary, confusing, lonely deed. Mary's baby is going to change the world and while He has a heavenly Father, he needs a Daddy. And Joseph was the man for the job. In probably far-too-simple terms, I like to think that Jesus learned how to be the God of the Universe from, well, God, but he learned how to be a good carpenter and a good man from Joseph. And let's not forget that Jesus spent several more years of his life being a good, kind, single man working as a carpenter than he did being a rabbi to 12 disciples.
If you're considering making any New Year's Resolutions, I hope you'll join me in really thinking and praying about them and putting off actually starting until February 1. After Christmas and New Years, everyone is still so caught up in shopping, food and travel that they make spur-of-the-moment resolutions they are unlikely to keep. This year, one of my main resolutions is to both remember and live out the truth that even if I feel I am in an uncomfortable situation, there is eternal hope in the baby that both Mary and Joseph raised. Indeed, God put them into possibly the most uncomfortable situation imaginable to bring His Son into the world. I guess that means we are in good company. Remember, God is not looking for the most able, He's looking for the most available.
Sunday, 6 December 2015
Advent Is A Season, Not A Day
My brother has angels. Everybody in my family knows this. If Mama, Daddy, Austin and I all got together and we had to vote on who in the group should probably be dead, it's him. We've all had our close calls, but he takes the cake. I won't tell you all the incidents in which his life has been unexplainably preserved (I probably don't actually know about all of them) but I will say they range from shop and farm accidents to motorcycle and car wrecks. We had a conversation a couple of weeks ago in which he said, "If I'm still alive today, it's not for lack of opportunity to be dead." The take-away from this is that there's a reason Austin has a legion of angels following him around. He has something really big ahead of him. I believe God has a special mission in mind for my little brother and I cannot wait to see what it is!
The Christmas season is officially here (hence the red font) and I want to challenge you all to start reading the Christmas story in Luke 1 instead of Luke 2. It's the only Gospel that offers us a glimpse of what it looks like to prepare and wait for the birth of Jesus. Some of the things you'll notice about this preparation are that
1. There's a really significant wait time. The Jews had received no spiritual revelation for almost 400 years. Think about that. That's about how much time passes between the Book of Genesis and the Book of Exodus. America is barely half that old.
2. There's a couple of faithful prayer warriors still barely clinging to hope. If you want to know what waiting on God without seeing Him looks like, ask Zachariah and Elizabeth. Esther and the Jews in Susa were not hearing from God directly, but at least there were other prophets in the world who were. Zachariah was a priest in the temple so one would think he'd have a direct line to Yahweh, but nobody was hearing from God anywhere. And
3. Bonus! There's even more angels in this story than we usually remember. In fact, Gabriel's pretty busy making house calls about babies. Heads up, ladies. If Gabriel shows up at your house, you're probably pregnant.
Today, I want to focus on the angels. I'm pretty convinced Gabriel and the heavenly host didn't make their birth announcements and then disappear into the sky. They stuck around. If my little brother has a legion of angels guarding his life, I can only imagine what sort of holy war must have been going on in the ten foot diameter surrounding Elizabeth, Mary and their children for the rest of their lives. But let me take this one step further; we know there were plenty of angels around after John and Jesus were born, but how often do we consider the angels that had to prepare Elizabeth and Mary for their special mission? Until recently, I've never even contemplated how many angels were contending for Elizabeth and Mary before they got pregnant. Mary was a young girl, but Elizabeth had reached old age by the time Gabriel told her husband that her prayers for a child were being heard. A lifetime is a long time to pray and not see fruit. I get frustrated when I don't see fruit after a couple of weeks, sometimes days. Yet Elizabeth (her name means 'God is abundant' by the way) knew her identity in Christ and never let go of that. I don't think she hung on alone.
Just like Elizabeth's waiting to see fruit from her prayers, revelation can take a long time to come. The church calendar only dedicates a few weeks to Advent; imagine waiting with that kind anticipation for years. But also like Gabriel's visit to Zachariah, once it comes, it can show up in a big way. Advent has been particularly special for me this year. I'm finally getting answers to some questions I've been trying to process since my baptism back in 2014. A lot of things came to light then and it's taken about two and half years for my eyes to adjust. As I go through my Advent devotionals, I'm learning that waiting, hoping and anticipating should always be directed at a person and not an outcome. When we put our trust in Jesus for a particular outcome like a job, a relationship, a new opportunity or freedom from an old mistake, we are in danger of making that trust contingent on us getting those things. I'm finally learning to trust Jesus period, not just trust Him to give me what I want. Starting this year, if I'm going to anticipate and long for something so much that it consumes my thoughts and dictates my decisions, I want it to be Jesus. Not a dream job in Virginia and not a husband.
I have to admit, this Christmas more than ever, I'm really thankful that Luke 1 is in the Bible and that I have Elizabeth to show me how to wait faithfully. I'm also really thankful that I have my brother around to remind me that angels are real.
P.S. For anyone interested in a new perspective on how angels (and demons) operate in our world, or for anyone who doubts for a single moment that there is a battle going on around us. I want to recommend a book by Frank Peretti called This Present Darkness. I admit, it's not very Christmas-y, but it will forever change how you view prayer, the other day-to-day tasks you perform every day and especially how you feel the next time your car won't start.
The Christmas season is officially here (hence the red font) and I want to challenge you all to start reading the Christmas story in Luke 1 instead of Luke 2. It's the only Gospel that offers us a glimpse of what it looks like to prepare and wait for the birth of Jesus. Some of the things you'll notice about this preparation are that
1. There's a really significant wait time. The Jews had received no spiritual revelation for almost 400 years. Think about that. That's about how much time passes between the Book of Genesis and the Book of Exodus. America is barely half that old.
2. There's a couple of faithful prayer warriors still barely clinging to hope. If you want to know what waiting on God without seeing Him looks like, ask Zachariah and Elizabeth. Esther and the Jews in Susa were not hearing from God directly, but at least there were other prophets in the world who were. Zachariah was a priest in the temple so one would think he'd have a direct line to Yahweh, but nobody was hearing from God anywhere. And
3. Bonus! There's even more angels in this story than we usually remember. In fact, Gabriel's pretty busy making house calls about babies. Heads up, ladies. If Gabriel shows up at your house, you're probably pregnant.
Today, I want to focus on the angels. I'm pretty convinced Gabriel and the heavenly host didn't make their birth announcements and then disappear into the sky. They stuck around. If my little brother has a legion of angels guarding his life, I can only imagine what sort of holy war must have been going on in the ten foot diameter surrounding Elizabeth, Mary and their children for the rest of their lives. But let me take this one step further; we know there were plenty of angels around after John and Jesus were born, but how often do we consider the angels that had to prepare Elizabeth and Mary for their special mission? Until recently, I've never even contemplated how many angels were contending for Elizabeth and Mary before they got pregnant. Mary was a young girl, but Elizabeth had reached old age by the time Gabriel told her husband that her prayers for a child were being heard. A lifetime is a long time to pray and not see fruit. I get frustrated when I don't see fruit after a couple of weeks, sometimes days. Yet Elizabeth (her name means 'God is abundant' by the way) knew her identity in Christ and never let go of that. I don't think she hung on alone.
Just like Elizabeth's waiting to see fruit from her prayers, revelation can take a long time to come. The church calendar only dedicates a few weeks to Advent; imagine waiting with that kind anticipation for years. But also like Gabriel's visit to Zachariah, once it comes, it can show up in a big way. Advent has been particularly special for me this year. I'm finally getting answers to some questions I've been trying to process since my baptism back in 2014. A lot of things came to light then and it's taken about two and half years for my eyes to adjust. As I go through my Advent devotionals, I'm learning that waiting, hoping and anticipating should always be directed at a person and not an outcome. When we put our trust in Jesus for a particular outcome like a job, a relationship, a new opportunity or freedom from an old mistake, we are in danger of making that trust contingent on us getting those things. I'm finally learning to trust Jesus period, not just trust Him to give me what I want. Starting this year, if I'm going to anticipate and long for something so much that it consumes my thoughts and dictates my decisions, I want it to be Jesus. Not a dream job in Virginia and not a husband.
I have to admit, this Christmas more than ever, I'm really thankful that Luke 1 is in the Bible and that I have Elizabeth to show me how to wait faithfully. I'm also really thankful that I have my brother around to remind me that angels are real.
P.S. For anyone interested in a new perspective on how angels (and demons) operate in our world, or for anyone who doubts for a single moment that there is a battle going on around us. I want to recommend a book by Frank Peretti called This Present Darkness. I admit, it's not very Christmas-y, but it will forever change how you view prayer, the other day-to-day tasks you perform every day and especially how you feel the next time your car won't start.
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