Monday, December 5, 2011

micro-darwinian comparative advantage

"We love the illusion of distance from death.  When we see a car wreck, we assume they must have been driving recklessly ... We distance ourselves by assuming bad things happen to other people because of some inferiority." 
~ Ray Ortlund, 4.dec.11
I watched "J. Edgar" last weekend, and was struck by the sketch presented of the man who shaped our country's federal police force.  The film draws heavily upon the discrepancy between the man and the myth, between his person and his image, which wouldn't be very curious at all except that he created his own image.  The movie highlights the idea that he personally provided the misinformation on which his legend was built.  Why?  We all have a reason for what we do ...

I believe it's the same reason that he is shown using "uppers" in the movie.  Here is the man who lived through Kennedy & King's death - and probably heard of both first.  He lasted through eight presidencies.  With all the misfortune he witnessed, how could he not have felt the imminence of his own, or at least felt the fragility of his life?  I think the director (screenwriter?  I am definitely not a hollywood expert) hits on a deep truth here: Hoover distanced himself from death in the same way we distance ourselves from tragic wrecks - by constantly reminding himself why he was superior to others.  First, through facts: "I'm not a lecher, like King & Kennedy. I'm a stronger leader than Nixon." And then embellishment: "After all, I've made important arrests - personally."  I think this same comparison - and delusion - drives me too.  If I can convince myself that I am better or more fit than the people around me, then I must be farther from death.  Micro-darwinian comparative advantage:  survival of the fittest meets pure capitalism on the scale of our individual lives. 

Jesus was the antitype of Hoover - and of us, I'd wager.  Christ did not fear death, and felt that death imminently, from his birth when the magi brought myrrh (an embalming agent) to his rebuke of his disciples when Peter claimed Christ would not suffer and die.  This is why survival of the fittest is such a dangerous thought - not because it threatens some creation narrative, but because it allows us to entertain a false reality, believing ourselves far more safe in our own abilities than we really are.  It doesn't challenge God's ability to create - it denies his sovereignty over our current fate.  It is not atheism - it is deism.  Darwinism enables us to maintain an illusion of distance from death, while Christianity drives us to our cross.  I fear my creation theology matters very little when my life is functional darwinism.  

Saturday, November 26, 2011

where thanks are due

When Paul says, "If the dead are not raised, let us eat and drink," (1 Cor. 15:32) he does not mean "Let's all become lechers."  He means there is a normal, simple, comfortable ordinary life of human delights that we may enjoy with no troubling thoughts of heaven or hell or sin or holiness or God - if there is no resurrection from the dead.  And what stunned me about this thought is that many professing Christians seem to aim at just this - and call it Christianity ... Am I overstating this?  Judge for yourself.  How many Christians do you know who could say, "The lifestyle I have chosen as a Christian would be utterly foolish and pitiable if there is no resurrection?"
~ John Piper, Desiring God, p. 261
Reflection is healthy, and the Thanksgiving holiday provides a great lens.  What am I thankful for?  I think too often I am thankful for the "normal, simple, comfortable, ordinary" that Piper describes above.

This year, I'd instead like to honor (Romans 12:10) some close friends - men that I admire - whose lifestyles would be "utterly foolish" without the resurrection.  John Nehme, who is leveraging his talents to raise awareness about human trafficking at Trade in Hope.  Kevin Turner, probably the most talented musician I know, who has dedicated his talent to advancing the kingdom locally through the church.  Justin Miller, who is using his business-IQ to leverage the church's resources to Care for AIDS and spread the gospel in Kenya.  Will Killmer, a true scholar, who has traded a chance at an elite, niche professorship in linguistics for training to bring the gospel to all languages.

I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that was given you in Christ Jesus.  
(1 Cor. 1:4

Sunday, October 9, 2011

the local watering hole

'The neighborhood bar is possibly the best counterfeit there is to the fellowship Christ wants to give his church.  It’s an imitation, dispensing liquor instead of grace, escape rather than reality, but it is a permissive, accepting, and inclusive fellowship.  It is unshockable.  It is democratic.  You can tell people secrets and they usually don’t tell others or even want to.  The bar flourishes not because most people are alcoholics, but because God has put into the human heart the desire to know and be known, to love and be loved, and so many seek a counterfeit at the price of a few beers.  Christ wants his church to be a fellowship where people can come in and say, “I’m sunk!” “I’m beat!” “I’ve had it!”'
~ Keith Miller & Bruce Larson, The Edge of Adventure
 

Friday, September 30, 2011

HT: The chief form of zealotry

Taken from Ray Ortlund's blog, 15 September:

“The state was the great gainer of the twentieth century, and the central failure.  Up to 1914, it was rare for the public sector to embrace more than 10 per cent of the economy; by the 1970s, even in liberal countries, the state took up to 45 per cent of the GNP. . . . The state had proved itself an insatiable spender, an unrivalled waster. . . . By the turn of the century politics was replacing religion as the chief form of zealotry.  To archetypes of the new class, . . . politics — by which they meant the engineering of society for lofty purposes — was the one legitimate form of moral activity, the only sure means of improving humanity.  This view, which would have struck an earlier age as fantastic, became to some extent the orthodoxy everywhere.”
Paul Johnson, A History of the Modern World from 1917 to the 1980s (London, 1983), page 729.

Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man, in whom there is no salvation.  Psalm 146:3

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

calvin in my classroom: consequence

To quote D. A. Carson, "Both God's love and God's wrath are racheted up in the move from the Old Testament to the New." ("God's Love and God's Wrath," Bibliotheca Sacra, 1999)  In the Old Testament, God's wrath manifests in worldly ways; in the New Testament, God's wrath manifests itself in Christ's teachings on Hell.  If in the Old Testament God seems more wrathful to us, it's because we either don't believe in or don't understand Hell.
~ Dane Ortlund, 13.Aug.11
Economics teaches the idea of the "rational man," who weighs options and always chooses the one in his best interest.  I have never seen this man in my classroom.  He's not even on my roster.

Let me give you an example.  My students are not allowed to have their cell phones out during class; when I explain this, many students are shocked to discover that it is not simply an extension of their hand and mind.  As students invariably struggle to cope with their concept of the world being so flipped, testing to see if this is real life, they are given a harsh pinch to confirm: any cell phone that is out is to be given to  the principal, and only returned when a parent comes up to school to retrieve it.  Within this context, I often try to play "good cop" and give students a choice, "give me your phone now (solving the problem), or give it to the principal later (after written referral).  If you give it to me now, you can come get it at the end of the day."  Easy choice, right?  Except that having to give the phone to the teacher feels much more real because it's tangible and immediate, and many students will refuse because they have no concept of administrative referral/suspension.  

I fear that I often view God the same way that my students view our administration.  I have no concept of the wrathfulness of the New Testament - of the hell Christ preached - or I would not think that the Old Testament seemed so much more harsh.  It's all about tangibility.  See, the "rational man" concept assumes that man is governed by rationality; in reality, I'd suggest that man is actually governed by self.  Thus, instead of acting based on what makes the most sense, we act based on what we can conceive or imagine. We need Christ, in his grace, to take away the blindness that limits us to our own experience and imagination.  Only he can soften our hearts to the intervention he's provided so that we don't face the consequences of the system.

And this is not simply a spiritual problem.  Nicholas Nassim Taleb identifies the same problem in his work: we have great difficulty thinking outside our pre-existing categories (The Bed of Proscrustes) and therefore we are Fooled by Randomness.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

spiritual neurosurgery

"For weeks, for months, I had been fighting to control my temper, figuring I could handle it myself.  Now, in that small, hot bathroom, I knew the truth.  I could not handle my temper alone ... Already heavy into psychology (I had been reading Psychology Today for a year), I knew that temper was a personality trait.  Standard thinking in the field pointed out the difficulty, if not the impossibility of modifying personality traits. Even today, some experts believe that the best we can do is accept our limitations and adjust to them.

Tears streamed between my fingers. "Lord, despite what the experts tell me, you can change me. You have to take this temper from me.  If you don't, I'll never be free from it. I'll do things a lot worse than trying to stab one of my best friends. You can free me forever from this destructive personality trait." 

Ben Carson, M.D. (with Cecil Murphey), Gifted Hands, Chapter 6
Read this in class today with the kids.  A neurosurgeon talking about changing our mental wiring! Thoughts:

1)  I had students predict what would happen to someone who tried to stab his friend: "jail, insane asylum, suicide, depression, reform school."  Actual result: surrender/dependence, change, freedom.  What a beautiful illustration of grace - and how radically foreign it is to our minds & culture..

2) We can't change ourselves.  Dr. Ben Carson, one of the most brilliant minds of our time, knows this is true - experientially, psychologically, spiritually. 

3)  There is hope that we'll never again have to fear what we're capable of.  "If you don't, I'll never be free from it.  I'll do things a lot worse.."  We know ourselves best, and at some level are ashamed of our negative potential.  But we are already in part - and someday fully - rescued from this worry. 

Sunday, September 4, 2011

calvin in my classroom: choice

"No one thrives in an environment of rules; people thrive in an environment of leadership." ~ Ray Ortlund, 25.July.2010
The first two weeks of school each year are spent establishing order in the classroom.  As the teacher, I show the students my expectations for how class should run and teach them the system of consequences that happens when they fall short of these expectations.

Experimenting with how I enforce this discipline has revealed a lot to me about how we're wired as humans - and how that affects our choices.  In my training, I was taught to establish a "ladder of consequences" that identified an increasingly bad outcome for each infraction a student committed.  As students make bad choices, they are informed of their choice, its consequence, and the next consequence if they continue in their actions.  When I used this system, I felt odd and out of character, like a cross between Will Smith kicking butt in some movie and an Old Testament minor prophet shoved into a 21st century Title I classroom, whose only job was to constantly belt out: "you have sinned, so now this is happening to you, and if you continue you will suffer more."  And how did this help my students?  I actually never saw this method correct behavior.  I was having the same problems in April that I had in September, because students simply acclimated to the outcome.  In fact, some students became worse-behaved simply to show that they could break the rules and undermine my authority.  Unfortunately for them, my authority didn't change; only the extent to which I had to exercise it over them did.  I found the whole experience eerily similar to living under religious rules, i.e. what is commonly called "the law" of the "Old Covenant" established by Moses in the Bible.

Halfway through last year, I decided to change the language of my system to that of choice.  Instead of facing consequences, my students faced a series of choices - the first one is theirs to make, second is mine, third is their parent's, and fourth is the administration's.  The change was immediate; my students (last year and so far this year) stopped unnecessarily pressing the system to the limit (i.e. administrative referral) because they had been given a choice.

But the weirdest part?  The first choice - a student's opportunity to correct - still never corrects the problem.  Students will still - 100% of the time - continue in their behavior.  Sure, they proved in the first system that they could break my rules, but under the second model, they couldn't uphold them!  Choice is an illusion; there is still only one outcome that actually occurs.

So why did the second model work?  How did students manage to change behavior?  In this second model, students come to realize that they have not been able to change behavior, and therefore accept my consequence as a helpful intervention.  The outcome is no different - they still have to move seats, or talk to me in the hallway, etc. - but they now perceive it as an opportunity I've created rather than a punishment.

I'm not saying that we were created without choice.  I don't know, I wasn't in on the design process.  I have observed, however, that regardless of what our state may be, we don't make the right choices.  We may be able to choose, but our will is not free to do so.  Piper describes this tension in terms of moral versus physical inability:

"This is a great stumbling block for many people  - to assert that we are responsible to do what we are morally unable to do ... It may help, however, to consider that the inability we speak of is not owing to a physical handicap, but to moral corruption.. Physical inability would remove accountability.  Moral inability does not."
~ John Piper, Desiring God, p. 65 (footnote)
I see a lot of myself in my students; I relate to God the way that they relate to me as their teacher.  Thankfully, God made the greatest intervention and provided such an amazing opportunity that it is literally irresistible once He reveals it - even to those (like me) that are "morally corrupt."  In the same way that my interventions make my students' continued rebellion seem foolish, His intervention makes my corruption seem unmentionably unimportant.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

craving, conversion, confidence

"Once we had no delight in God, and Christ was just a vague historical figure.  What we enjoyed was food and friendships and productivity and investments and vacations and hobbies and games and reading and shopping and sex and sports and art and TV and travel ... but not God.  He was an idea - even a good one - and a topic for discussion; but he was not a treasure or delight. 

Then something miraculous happened.. First the stunned silence before the unspeakable beauty of holiness.  Then the shock and terror that we had actually loved the darkness.  Then the settling stillness of joy that this [experience of holiness] is the soul's end.  The quest is over ... And then faith that if I come to God through Christ, He will give me the desire of my heart to share His holiness and behold His glory.  But before the confidence comes the craving.  Before the decision comes delight." 

~ John Piper, Desiring God, p. 71-72
I've lived most of my life in that first scenario, simply "believing" in and talking about the idea of God.  I thought, and had been taught, that conversion to following Christ only involved that last step - "faith .. coming to God .. confidence ... decision" - however you say it.  I never realized until last fall that faith was a reaction.  And it's not a reaction only to my poorly-placed love; it's first a reaction to God revealing His unspeakable beauty and holiness, the light by which I am even able to recognize that my love was misplaced.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

canine christianity

A discussion of freewill through analogy to two classes of animals
“Be not like horse or mule, without understanding, which must be curbed by a bit or bridle, or it will not stay near you.” 
(Psalm 32:9) 
Who are we without God?  This passage describes us – we run from good.  That means we are sinners.  It doesn’t end, “or it may not stay near you.”  There is no question that, if unleashed, we will not choose to continue to serve.  I once heard John Piper call this a “moral inability,” similar to when we say we “can’t get out of bed in the morning;” sure, we may have the technical ability to do so, but ten out of ten times, we won’t.   If you let a workhorse out of its yoke, it will not continue to work of its own volition.  Similarly, our will is not free; we will choose the selfish path every time.  Sure, we can disobey God’s commands; in fact, that’s all we can do without his help and provision. 

So how does he help?  God’s initial response was to give us the law as a bit or bridle.  We – as shown in the type of the first Adam – were essentially supposed to run this beautiful estate he had created.  We messed up, and became the workhorses of the estate, and eventually slaves of another kingdom (Egypt).   To teach and enable us to be of use again on his estate, he gave us the Mosaic law.  We broke bit and bridle, and jumped the fence. 

God’s second response was to change our identity.  He reset our role through a second Adam (Jesus) who instead of merely serving on the estate was in fact a son.  Through him, we too became part of the household.  Instead of workhorses, we’re more like dogs – part of the family.  This comparison of Christianity to canines can show us several things:


(1) Our will is still not free.  If you let a dog off its leash or out of the yard, it will run away or wander off, guaranteed.

(2) We are driven by God’s grace rather than his punishment.  Even when dogs wander off, they tend to return eventually for meals.  God softens our hearts through love and grace rather than the force of the bit and bridle.  God has cultivated dependence in his people based on grace. 

(3) We don’t have to perform to merit his love.  Because this is an identity change, our lifestyle is an outflow rather than a prerequisite.  As my friend Sean Brown puts it, “A dog barks because he is a dog, not to prove he is a dog.”  (He may have stolen this, but I wouldn’t know where from, so he gets the credit for now)

Our goal is to not need the bit-n-bridle of the law because it has become our nature; instead of answering to the family’s standard, we have been adopted into the family. 

Friday, August 5, 2011

"how this grace thing works"


"Darkness is a harsh term don’t you think?  
And yet it dominates the things I see 


It seems that all my bridges have been burned 
But you say that’s exactly how this grace thing works 
It’s not the long walk home that will change this heart 
But the welcome I receive with the restart"


~ Mumford & Sons, "Roll Away Your Stone" ~

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

HT: "Here are a few extra"

Admit everything.  Martin Luther's version of spiritual warfare that I've heard Ray quote several times.  Taken from Ray Orland's blog (31 July):
"When I go to bed, the devil is always waiting for me.  When he begins to plague me, I give him this answer: ‘Devil, I must sleep.  That’s God’s command — work by day, sleep by night.  So go away.’  If that doesn’t work and he brings out a catalog of sins, I say, ‘Yes, old fellow, I know all about it.  And I know some more you have overlooked.  Here are a few extra.  Put them down.’  If he still won’t quit and presses me hard and accuses me as a sinner, I scorn him and say, ‘St. Satan, pray for me.  Of course, you have never done anything wrong in your life.  You alone are holy.  Go to God and get grace for yourself.  If you want to get me all straightened out, I say, Physician, heal thyself.’”
Martin Luther, quoted in Roland Bainton, Here I Stand (New York, 1950), page 362.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Christmas in July

a day late - well, really a week late - but still worth the thought...
... after all, incarnation is not merely something that happened once a few thousand years ago, and we shouldn't think about it just once a year.

"[the Incarnation] is so particular it staggers the imagination.  God found a specific place and time where His love would touch our world.  Prayer too is a moment of incarnation - God with us, God involved in the details of my life."
~ Paul Miller, A Praying Life, p. 125

Monday, July 11, 2011

leaves of crabgrass

“There is not one little blade of grass, there is no color in this world, that is not intended to make men rejoice.” ~ John Calvin 
I hate crabgrass.  I came back from vacation last week to find two of my flower beds completely consumed by it.  I spent a few hours ripping it out with Abby (my wife), only to find that it has already started to come back in a few places this week.  As Abby noted after hour one of pulling crabgrass, "I'm becoming increasingly sure that crabgrass was a result of the Fall."  Though she may have said it with a slight tinge of humor, as I thought about it, I found the idea profound.  Even crabgrass is meant to be a reminder of Christ in a fallen world, helping me rejoice (literally find joy again) as it reminds me of two things:

1)  The futility of labor.  The curse of man after the Fall was not that we had to work, but that human work would be futile.  Hence the second law of thermodynamics (sort of); no matter what I create or work for, it begins to fall apart the minute I am finished.  No matter how often I pull the crabgrass, more weeds will ultimately grow (probably even the same crabgrass, because those roots are a pain in the ass to pull.  And an even bigger pain in my hands. and back. anyways...)  Futile work reminds me that life is about more than what I've done or do, and in doing so gives an exciting view on work that frees me to rejoice in it (more on this next post).  But futility by itself could also just be depressing, except that it points me to ...

2)  God's ultimate redemption of creation.  Not his re-creation, ditching it all and starting over again, but his redemption of existing creation.  For example, God didn't make cities, he made a garden, but the kingdom of the second coming is described as a city - the redemption and perfection of a human construct.  And crabgrass is a microcosm of this miracle; even as I redeem the garden each week in part, He will redeem it fully.  Moreover, just as I redeem the garden repeatedly, so he continues to redeem me even as I continue to mess up, and will eventually redeem me fully too.  Thus, every glimpse of perfection, every hint of beauty serves as a type and reminder for God's redemption of imperfect creation - and therefore should make us rejoice.

I think Walt Whitman's work on Leaves of Grass is a great illustration of these ideas.  The title itself is meant to be ironic; publishers in that day often called minor works "grass," yet he meant it to be his magnum opus.  This a great illustration on the futility of our work, but it gets even better.  He was continually republishing the work, a total of eight times, as he continued to rework it and make it better, not finding it complete - or redeemed - until his deathbed.  His account of it makes a great description for the work of redemption in our lives:
"Leaves of Grass at last complete—after 33 y'rs of hackling at it, all times & moods of my life, fair weather & foul, all parts of the land, and peace & war, young & old."    
Walt Whitman in a letter to a friend in 1891 (quoted in David Reynolds Walt Whitman's America, p586)

Friday, July 1, 2011

blowin' in the wind

"If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God who gives generously ... But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind." (James 1:5-6)
"Anxiety.  Instead of connecting with God, our spirits fly around like severed power lines, destroying everything they touch."  (Miller, A Praying Life, p70) Coming off a very restful vacation, I'm wondering why life can't always be this relaxed?  Why, as Dylan suggests, is life laced with so many worries - wars, slavery, ignorance, complicity - that leave us feeling wind-tossed?  Why does it seem that I more often encounter James's storm-tossed seas than still waters?  As I reflect, I think the biggest difference is that I refuse to engage with the realities of life while on vacation; I take a break from planning and control.  And therefore I'm not anxious.

I think James is addressing this anxiety here in the word "doubt."  I've often heard this passage interpreted as a critique of intellectual uncertainty, but I find it hard to believe that questioning is bad; Jesus consistently criticized the religious people who "knew it all" and rewarded those who were honestly seeking.

Rather, James is addressing our response to chaos.  I love the image of a wave-tossed ship; the metaphor extends to describe my response to chaos.  When I see storms coming, I act like a salty 18th-century captain and lash myself to the ship's mast, so that I can continue to steer; I try to retain as much control as possible.  The result? Although I feel more secure, the reality is that I am still tossed around with the ship; I'm still "blowin in the wind."  Far better to find land, something that will not move with the storm, the "rock of our salvation."  It's hard to abandon ship, but those who seek to save their ship will lose it, and those who abandon it for Christ will save it ... or something like that.  How?
"We cling to our Father in the face of chaos by continually praying.  Because we know we don't have control, we cry out for grace." (Paul Miller, A Praying Life, p. 70)

Friday, June 24, 2011

HT: Who are you married to?

The following blog by my friend Ray Ortlund powerfully describes the miracle of our marriage to Christ. It also provides an interesting paradigm for reflection on our own marriages.
HT: Ray Ortlund, "Who are you married to?" (10.june.11)
“A married woman is bound by law to her husband while he lives, but if her husband dies she is released from the law of marriage. . . . and if she marries another man she is not an adulteress. Likewise, my brothers, you also have died to the law through the body of Christ, so that you may belong to another.” Romans 7:2-4 
We were married to Mr. Law. He was a good man, in his way, but he did not understand our weakness. He came home every evening and asked, “So, how was your day? Did you do what I told you to? Did you make the kids behave? Did you waste any time?” So many demands and expectations. And hard as we tried, we couldn’t be perfect. We forgot things that were important to him. We let the children misbehave. We failed in other ways. It was a miserable marriage, because Mr. Law always pointed out our failings. And his remedy was always the same: Do better tomorrow. We couldn’t. 
Mr. Law died – fortunately. And we remarried, this time to Mr. Grace. Our new husband, Jesus, comes home every evening and the house is a mess, the children are being naughty, dinner is burning on the stove, and we have even had other men in the house during the day. Still, he sweeps us into his arms and says, “I love you, I chose you, I died for you, I will never leave you nor forsake you.” And our hearts melt. We don’t understand such love. We expect him to judge us, but he treats us so well. 
Being married to Mr. Law never changed us. But being married to Mr. Grace is finally changing us deep within, and it shows.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

versus a Gandhian critique

"I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." ~ Mahatma Gandhi
The premise of my last post - that Christianity is not inherently violent, it is just (mis)used for violence - opens itself to another critique: Christians failure to be like Christ.  A Christian is called to be one with Christ; what does that mean? I know that I have not - daresay cannot - live my life as perfectly as Christ no matter how much discipline I apply.  Oneness does not mean that Christians become Christ; it means that they become the bride of Christ.  


You see, Gandhi may in fact pithily and accurately highlight the church's - and my own - departure from Christ's teaching and a negligence of his service/mission.  However, if a person actually believed the first part of this statement (I like your Christ) - and not just the latter - they would want to be his bride and follow his instructions to love your neighbor and love the unlovable - even the unlovable church.  Instead, we find that there is an implied transition, an implied "but," which a wise friend once told psychologically erases anything that just came before it (e.g. "Baby, I love you but ...").  


I don't know what Gandhi meant, but those who quote him often use this position to justify not joining the church.  In this sense, a Gandhian critique is simply another iteration of illuminism - just "God and me" - with truth revealed to me privately by God and not corporately in the church, where it "would just be tainted by those jerks."  This is not an accurate assumption; rather "Christ whispers sweet words in the ear of his bride.  No matter what you think of her, He loves her.  It is hard to imagine him taking delight in your slander and rejection of her."  (Sam Storms, 4.dec.10)


I cannot simply live up to the example set for me by my Savior; that is why I need a Savior.  Our imperfection does not disqualify us from the church, but qualifies us to become his bride.  "Marriage is an unconditional commitment to an imperfect person" (Ray Ortlund, 30.april.11), and it's primary example is Christ's unconditional commitment to us.  Where I fail in perfect action, it is only greater testament to His perfect substitution:  
"The disproportion between us and the universe is a parable about the disproportion between us and God ... the point is not that it nullify us, but glorify Him."  ~ John Piper, Don't Waster Your Life (p. 34)

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

versus a Voltairian critique

"Christianity is the most ridiculous, the most absurd and bloody religion that has ever infected the world." (Voltaire)
Voltaire sums up an age-old critique of Christianity, evidenced as far back as the Crusades, and echoing forward in such writers as Mark Twain and presently Charles Kimball.  And it's not an entirely unfair critique - there is certainly evidence that Christ's name has been slapped on violent, selfish advancement with an eye to temporal power or gain.


Recognizing this critique, I wanted to extend from yesterday's post that though Christianity requires a "wartime lifestyle," Ephesians 6:12 clarifies that, "we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but ... against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places."  In fact, I think one of the unique aspects of Christianity when compared with other world religions is that greater faith should actually make a person less violent: 
"One criticism of Christianity is that it’s intolerant, socially harmful, even violent ... People can pervert Christianity into something violent.  But you don’t have to pervert Islam, for example, to make it violent.  Just be true to Islam, and you will be violent.  And the purer your Islam, the more violent you will be.  The great message of Islam is not God dying for us, God suffering at our violent hands for our guilt to remove every barrier to his love pouring out upon his enemies.   
Secularism too has violence built into it.  Humanism looks to human potential for heaven on earth.  But it creates hell on earth.  Secularism absolutizes the human will.  There is nothing above to judge human power.  That led to the guillotine of the French Revolution.  It led to Vladimir Lenin, whose motto was “Who?  Whom?”  Who will dominate whom?  It’s the law of the jungle. 
Obviously, Islam and humanism could not be more opposite to each other in some ways.  One is religious, the other secular.  One is medieval, the other modern.  But they both unleash the fallen human heart.  
The gospel is the only alternative to human violence: “Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example” (1 Peter 2:21).  We Americans need to stop beating each other up, humble ourselves, and follow Christ."  
~ Ray Ortlund, 5.june.11, commenting on 1 Peter 3:17-4:6


Monday, June 20, 2011

spiritually spartan, part ii

"Spartan" spirituality is more than "simple" or "minimalistic":

"Simplicity may have a romantic ring and a certain aesthetic appeal that is foreign to the dirty business of mercy in the dangerous places of the world.  Simplicity may also overlook the fact that in wartime, major expenses for complex weapons and troop training are needed ... Simplicity may be inwardly directed and may benefit no one else.  A wartime lifestyle implies that there is a great and worthy cause."
~ John Piper, Don't Waster Your Life (p. 113-114)

Simplicity focuses on the self, even if it is self-sacrifice; the very word "Spartan" originated from men who sacrificed for their community.  Simple living makes us monks; Spartan living makes us warriors.

Friday, June 10, 2011

HT: "tell me who you are"

"Tell me who you are." The first question I faced in an job interview recently, the question that looms over a first date, the obsession of our society: getting to know other people, and trying to know ourselves.  My friend Tim introduced me earlier this week to the idea that "psychology, as a field, has been centered on helping us in this search to answer, 'Who am I?' ... and 'What's wrong with me?'"  (David Jones, The Psychology of Jesus, p. 4)

I love this answer: 
HT: Ray Ortlund

A friend of Eric Clapton’s asked him a good question:

“Chris’s first question to me, at our very first session, was, ‘Tell me who you are,’ a very simple question you would think, but I felt the blood rush up to my face and wanted to yell at her, ‘How dare you!  Don’t you know who I am?’  Of course, I had no idea who I was, and I was ashamed to admit it.”
Eric Clapton, Clapton: The Autobiography (New York, 2007), page 257.

Who am I?  I am a man in Christ.  I am who I most truly am not by force of anything intrinsic to myself but by force of God’s mercy to me.  God has breathed into me the breath of life, and I have thus become a living being, in both creation and redemption.  I have no other reality.  I need no other.  I desire no other.

However I proudly depart from this reality, I am diminished.  As I humbly rejoice in this reality, I am vibrant with life.

Monday, June 6, 2011

running with cicadas

"We are half-hearted creatures fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in the projects because he cannot imagine what is meant by an offer of a holiday at the sea." 
~ C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory
About a week ago, I rolled (...er, leaped ...) out of bed to a cross between Will Smith's futuristic I Am Legend and Ancient Egypt's ten plagues.  An early morning storm had strewn trees and power lines across my neighborhood and produced hail that massacred about a quarter of the insipient cicada population, leaving juicy booby traps everywhere!

After administrators discovered that it was difficult to teach without power, students and teachers were released early, and I decided that conditions were perfect for a run.  I took off on my standard three-mile loop in awe of the damage that my mind was surveying.  I was making ridiculous time until I hit the lake, where my nose alerted me to the fact that the geese on the lake had been scared literally shitless by the same storm that found me taking part of my sleep in our bathtub.  My focus shifted to the ground and I began being a little more strategic about which angle I took on the running trail.  I became increasingly aware of the cicadas I was crushing underfoot, and began trying to avoid those too.  Eventually, I found myself not running at all but tipoeing through the cicada graveyard formerly known as Shelby Park. 

It's funny: the conditions did not change much from the first mile to the second, but my perception of them did.  As I focused down on the details, my perspective changed; an exhilirating run became a gross gauntlet. I've noticed that I do the same thing with my faith; I become focused on where I fail rather than on Christ's glory.  I'm too distracted by my own "mud pies" as Lewis says - my own "dirt."  It is impossible to keep pace this way; in fact, it becomes impossible to run.  I have to recognize that I'm not going to avoid every mess, but the faster I run towards my destination the fewer I hit.  Christianity isn't self-disciplined sin management, it's simply a shift of focus, as Hebrews 12:2 says, to "look away to Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith." 

Thursday, May 12, 2011

soundbytes: success

"Success is becoming in middle adulthood what we dreamed of in late childhood.  Everything else is simply evidence of loss of control." 
~ Nassim Taleb, The Bed of Procrustes
"Men who really change are the ones who have failed enough that they are broken beyond self-remedy."
~ Ray Ortlund, "How Men Change" (10.may.11)
"Don't waste your life on fatal success." 
~ John Piper, Don't Waste Your Life, p 46

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

how revival goes viral

"So the chief priests made plans to put Lazarus to death as well, because on account of him, many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus."  ~ John 12:10-11
"Bet you can't do it twice." The taunt rings in my ears whenever I drain a three-point shot while playing a student in basketball.  I laugh every time I read this passage because it's so much like what the priests said to Lazarus: "So you rose from the dead? Bet you can't do it twice!"

But more interesting is why the priests felt the need to kill Lazarus; simply put, it was because so many people were following Jesus because of him.  What was his secret? 

I don't think it was his ability to lead, or "gather," men.  I seriously doubt that Lazarus was following any sort of growth model - pass 200 people, now do this!  He didn't have Facebook and Twitter to send his cool ideas viral.  I doubt he had laid out a five-year-plan and I doubt that he had a personal mission statement. 

And I don't think he was an exceptionally motivating and moving speaker.  I doubt that he even felt the need to "sell" people on Christ - I can't picture Lazarus laying out the illogical reasoning of atheism or providing a rational defense of eternal life or publishing an existential-experiential account of "two days in heaven."  I've won a lot of arguments, but I've never won a single soul through those arguments. 

I bet Lazarus simply told people he was alive.  Maybe told them his story. He was probably pretty excited.  Most importantly, he knew he what didn't need to do.  He realized the power of what he was saying rather than how it was said.  He knew how dead he had been; he wasn't sharing because he felt he should - the gospel defined him.  Revivals go viral when a man realizes how dead he was, and can't stop sharing it. 
"Our first business is neither to gather men nor to move them, but to preach in the speech of our time the universal and moving Gospel.  Let it gather them, and let it stir them. The first condition of a true revival is a sound gospel."
~ Forsyth, The Church, The Gospel & Society (p. 91)
Thanks to Sean Brown introducing me to this perspective on the text as I walk through the book of John. 

Monday, May 2, 2011

no levels of hell, only levels of hypocrisy

What is the difference between someone who willfully ignores the Bible on moral purity and someone who willfully ignores the Bible on caring for the poor?  The difference is that one involves a social taboo in the church and one involves a social norm in the church. 
~  David Platt, Radical (p. 111)

Saturday, April 30, 2011

if you can lead thirty-one 14-year-olds ...

When people see a man who combines high standards with compassion, they know he has grown beyond his personal biases, and they will follow him.
When people see a man who is humble, they know they have nothing to fear from him; he is not out for himself, and they will follow him. 
When people see a man soaked in [learning] and fervent in prayer, they know he is bringing them something from beyond their world, and will follow him. 
~ Ray Ortlund, “The Cost of Leadership” (15.jan.11)

Why exactly is it that our students follow us?  Last night, I watched a wide range of personalities that I have come to know and love walk across the stage at the Teach for America Nashville alumni induction, and I reflected on what makes our movement successful.  I don’t think it is because we’re such great teachers the day we come back from Institute, and I’m not even sure it is because we’ve improved so much over the past two years. 

In fact, I think it’s critical that I didn’t do either of these things; I failed at teaching according to most metrics.  And I think that’s a good thing.  It’s not simply good in some trite “I’ve learned so much” way or because “it challenged me to make myself better.”  Those may be true, but moreover, it’s good that I failed because it showed me that I can’t do it all.  I’m not sure I had truly fallen flat before – or at least I hadn’t worked so hard to do so.  Once I had accepted this failure, it changed the way I taught, and I think my students began to realize it wasn’t about me - it was about them.  From this place of humility, my classroom actually did begin to turn around.  As I approach the end of my teaching career, I am thinking that any future leadership must continue to cultivate this loss of self-importance. 

I think this is what I appreciate most about the Teaching as Leadership model, and will carry on with me; like the quote above, it directs us away from ourselves – and even our development – and towards students, and student development.  “High standards with compassion” … I may never be the smartest teacher, the most interesting teacher, or even be good at teaching, but I can expect greatness and I can offer support; in short, I can’t fix myself, but I can love others.  My students don’t follow a perfect teacher, and they know it.  They follow because, like the third line of Dr. Ortlund’s quote, they see someone modeling growth and passion.  Again, I may not be smart, or rich, or popular, or powerful, but I can grow and be passionate. 

We bring our students a lot “from beyond their world,” but the style of leadership we’ve been taught is beyond any world.  Humility, compassion, hope, exhortation, maturation, passion ... I hope I get the opportunity to continue to fail better in pursuit of it. 

“You don’t have to know a lot of things to make a lasting difference in this world … The people that make a durable difference in the world are not the people who have mastered many things, but who have been mastered by one great thing.”
~ John Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life (p. 44)

Thursday, April 28, 2011

ditto for blessings

corollary to yesterday:  
in the same way we need to be careful of exalting a sacrifice itself, and not the freedom for which it was intended, we need to be careful not to take joy in a blessing itself, and not the price paid to make it possible.

"Woe to me if I exult in any blessing of any kind at any time, unless my exulting is an exulting in the cross of Christ"
~ John Piper, Don't Waste Your Life (p. 54)

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

it's hard for packrats to find Jesus

"The thief comes only to steal, kill, & destroy; I come that they may have life, and have it abundantly." 
~ Jesus of Nazareth (John 10:10)
The common American take on the season of Lent bothers me.  If our view of Christianity is of giving up things, we have it all wrong.  The things we feel we are "giving up" are our idols even in their esteemed absence, and show us that we don't yet understand the joy and freedom of a life lived with Christ.  Like packrats, we keep things to protect ourselves because we fear the worst, hoarding junk designed to prevent or ameliorate loss, death, and destruction.  We think we are living because we aren't dying.  But our protection, fences, and hedges make it hard to run freely after Christ.  He wanted us to live life more fully - or abundantly - in the present. Sure, running means giving up some things - the last guy who tried to run a marathon in full armor died - but anything we give up is for a greater freedom, not just sacrifice for its own sake.  If we're still bemoaning what we gave up, we aren't yet free. 

"When people talk about coming to Christ, they often talk about what they gave up, as if they made a heroic sacrifice.  If it still seems like sacrifice, we don't get it yet - whatever we sacrificed is so much bullshit.  Take the trophies off the mantle, throw them in the trashcan, have a good laugh, and follow the Yes, the Amen."
~ Ray Ortlund (08.mar.11)
We think a full life is all about us and what we've done - or not done.  Christ made the only heroic sacrifice.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

more than a ticket

If we would embrace the glory of God, we must embrace the gospel of Christ.  The reason for this is not only because we are sinners and need a savior to die for us, but also because this Savior is Himself the fullest and most beautiful manifestation of the glory of God.
~  John Piper, Don't Waste Your Life (p. 40)

Thursday, April 21, 2011

preseason conditioning

"Praying exposes how self-preocupied we are and uncovers our doubts.  It is easier on our faith not to pray.  After only a few minutes, our prayer is in shambles.  Barely out of the starting gate, we collapse on the sidelines - cynical, guilty, and hopeless." 
~ Paul Miller, A Praying Life (p. 15)
Prayer is our preseason conditioning for our faith.  It uncovers our weaknesses, and presses into us at that point so that we don't end up on the sidelines in the game.  Come train: Fridays @ Ugly Muggs, East Nashville, 6 a.m. 

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

nonessential

We are nothing and nobodies, but that we do think so is very evident; we anxiously enquire, "How will the work go on without me?" As well might the fly on the coach wheel enquire, "How will the mails be carried without me?"
~ C. H. Spurgeon
I am not needed; I am not essential to the process.  I am wanted and invited to join. 

Monday, April 18, 2011

praise comes hard to a tree-hugger

Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!" And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up.
Matthew 21: 8-10
I live in East Nashville, which means two things: I'm a bit vain about my fashion, and I support recycling.  Thus, when I read this passage in memory of this event, I had two looming questions:  Why would anyone let a donkey walk on - and probably ruin - their jacket?  And why would they cut off the tree branches of life-giving oxygen? 

Less facetiously, why would anyone cut off the branches they needed for shade during the sun and simultaneously ruin the coat they needed when night set in?  It seems foolish; is this what was required to for proper honor?  Is this what God needed from us? 

Then I connected it with this passage from Lewis, and it hit me: God didn't need praise, and God doesn't need our praise - we do.  It feels - and is - unnatural to get excited about ourselves.  Praise is not honoring something, but getting excited about it.  Praise completes our enjoyment, and invites others in:

The most obvious fact about praise — whether of God or anything — strangely escaped me. I thought of it in terms of compliment, approval, or the giving of honour. I had never noticed that all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise… The world rings with praise ... of weather, wines, dishes, actors, motors, horses, colleges, countries, historical personages, children, flowers, mountains, rare stamps, rare beetles, even sometimes politicians or scholars. . . . I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment … It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed.
C.S. Lewis (Reflections on Psalms, p. 90)

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Forgotten

HT: Ray Ortlund

“Over half a century ago, while I was still a child, I recall hearing a number of older people offer the following explanation for the great disasters that had befallen Russia: ‘Men have forgotten God; that’s why all this has happened.’

Since then I have spent well-nigh fifty years working on the history of our revolution; in the process I have read hundreds of books, collected hundreds of personal testimonies, and have already contributed eight volumes of my own toward the effort of clearing away the rubble left by that upheaval. But if I were asked today to formulate as concisely as possible the main cause of the ruinous revolution that swallowed up some sixty million of our people, I could not put it more accurately than to repeat: ‘Men have forgotten God; that’s why all this has happened.’”

Alexander Solzhenitsyn, The Templeton Address (10.may.1983)

Thursday, April 14, 2011

recipe for revival

"If we are to obtain a revival, we must go directly to the Holy Ghost for it, and not resort to the machinery of the professional revival-maker."
~ Spurgeon (Murray, Spurgeon v. the Hyper-Calvinists, p. 30)
cooking tomorrow morning ... come join, Ugly Muggs, East Nashville, 6 a.m. ... come hungry

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

life is tough, i'm a wimp

It is not that trials are necessary, but that grieving is necessary so that we might find joy and dependence in Christ alone.  Feeling our weakness is a necessary experience, being wounded as Christ was wounded.  Under crushing reality, our pat answers and trite opinions do not suffice.
Ray Ortlund (6.mar.11)
God does not allow hard times so that we "learn a lesson," "get stronger," or "earn our stripes" - Christianity is not fraternity pledgeship.  God allows trials so that we get past our man-made systems (of religion, government, or economics), turn to Him, and experience who He really is.  As Calvin said, "We are blind both to who we are, and to who God is, though we have strong opinions."  Suffering hurts in a large part because it challenges those opinions by slamming them up against reality. 

When Paul writes about "rejoicing in suffering," he tells us to rejoice because it reduces us to hope based on our weakness:
More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame ... for while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.   (Paul's Letter to the Romans, 5:3-6)

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

how democracy damages faith

We cannot respond to God's love correctly without recognizing His sovereignty.  We love because he first loved us; we do not choose it - we cannot choose it, for we cannot choose to recognize sovereignty.  A king that requires his people's recognition of his kingship is no king at all.  Democracy has ruined our understanding of God. 

But why - if God is both a sovereign and good king - does he not harness evil?  First, "if a man is thinking of claims and counterclaims against God, he has not yet understood who God is." (C.S. Lewis, God in the Dock)  In putting God on trial, we assume another principal of democracy, namely the idea of "checks and balances."  We even pray as if we are going to make sure that God does the right thing and meets the needs He might otherwise overlook; we are not the check on God's power - and neither is evil.  There is no sort of karmatic balance.  If God is not absolutely in control of evil, we're in trouble.  God, who did not create evil, is in charge of evil, but if He destroyed it now, He would have to destroy us with it. 

"One day, He will destroy evil once and for all, but for now he does what we cannot and handles evil without being overcome by it, producing His will and good from it, the most magnificent example being our salvation through His Son."  (Ray Ortlund, 28.nov.10)  His love is an alternate, merciful expression of His sovereignty, not a withholding of it.  His love comes out of His sovereign control, and cannot exist without it. 

"The Lord reigns; his is robed in majesty; the Lord is robed, He has put on strength as His belt. 
Yes, the world is established; it shall never be moved. 
Your throne is established from of old; You are from everlasting."
Psalm 93:1-2

Monday, April 11, 2011

why Christianity is different, part ii

Jesus, unlike the founder of any other major faith, holds out hope for ordinary human life.  Our future is not an ethereal, impersonal form of consciousness.  We will not float through the air, but rather will eat, embrace, sing, laugh and dance in the kingdom of God, in degrees of power, glory, and joy that we can't at present imagine.  Jesus will make the world our perfect home again.  We will no longer be living "East of Eden," always wandering and never arriving.
Tim Keller, Prodigal God, p. 104

Friday, April 8, 2011

spiritually spartan

A church is not a debate society, a church is an army.  ~ Ray Ortlund (15.jan.11)
I teach vocabulary by giving the history of the word, such that each word has a story.  Right now we are studying words that stem from Ancient Greece, and I have been struck by words like "spartan" and "laconic," which both imply a minimalistic approach to life.  While the Athenians were known for their philosophy, the Spartans were known for their intense training and minimalistic living so that they would not become accustomed to the comforts of life - and thereby become unready for battle.  Paul suggests the same thing about Christianity:

"No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize."  ~ St. Paul (1 Cor. 9:27)
I am amazed at how much spiritual disciplines - intense prayer, fasting, etc. - focus my faith.  I am not simply reading the gospel for my next cool lesson, and I certainly don't care that I have something shiny from scripture to show off next Sunday.  I'm not collecting souveneirs; I don't have that energy or luxury for that baggage.  I don't even want the best things in this life - that's consumerism. I want to be a spiritual spartan: fit, trim, and ready to deploy. 
"The church is like a ship designed for battle, to mobilize its people for a mission."  (David Platt, Radical)

Thursday, April 7, 2011

spring fever

Think of three kinds of people - a business associate you don't really like, a friend you enjoy doing things with, and someone you are in love with (and who is in love with you).  Your conversations with the business associate with be quite goal-oriented; you won't be interested in chit-chat.  With your friend, you may open your heart about some of the problems you are having.  But with your lover you will sense a strong impulse to speak about what you find beautiful about him/her.  These three kinds of discourse are analogous to forms of prayer that have been called "petition," "confession," and "adoration."  The deeper the love relationship, the more conversation heads towards the personal and towards affirmation and praise. 
(Tim Keller, Prodigal God, p. 64)
it's beautiful outside.  i want to be in love again.  let's pray: ugly muggs, east nashville, 6 a.m. tomorrow

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

criticism

"Whatever my critic thinks of me is far too generous - if he could see me as God does, he wouldn't hold such a high view!" 
Ray Ortlund (15.jan.11)

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

how good people treat other people

"When you don't see yourself as being part of a common community of sinners, you become trapped by your own bitterness; it is impossible to forgive someone if you feel superior to him/her."   ~  Tim Keller, Prodigal God, p. 55
... if you've been able to make it through my wandering musings on the problems with being good - and particularly if they have intrigued you or pissed you off - check out Keller's Prodigal God book for yourself.  It's the best explanation I've found on how we react to authority as humans.  Best of all, it's not much longer than this series of posts, and a lot easier to read!  :)

Monday, April 4, 2011

when being "good" is bad, part ii

"The modern world is not evil; in some ways the modern world is far too good. It is full of wild and wasted virtues."   
G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy
As a teacher, I often hear that I am "too petty," act "too strict" or do "too much."  Effectively, I hear that my classroom is too focused on rule-following, high expectations, and hard work.  These elements are not what I am trying to teach, but I need to have expectations and rules in order to create an environment in which students can learn. 

Every semester, there are two kinds of students who fail.  The first kind are the students who break all the rules and in doing so never give themselves any opportunity to pass; no one is surprised when they fail.  The other kind are the students who have followed every rule, taken notes every day, and acted as model students; everyond is surprised when they fail.  They often come to me after class to protest; it's painful to have to explain that I was not testing them on their affect behavior, but rather insisting on affect behavior so that they could learn to apply the knowledge they receive.  Being good is only the means by which the end of understanding is achieved; these students were too good while not being engaged enough with what was important.  As Chesterton put it, their virtues were "wasted."

We don't get what Chesterton is saying here.  If we did, we wouldn't feel so bad for that "good student" who failed.  If we did, we wouldn't ask questions about what happens to "good people."  We wouldn't wonder about the things we've done - we'd know that they were "wasted virtues" at best.  

Jesus identified the same problem in his society that I see daily in the next generation of ours.  In his gospel (ch 9), John records a story in which Christ healed a blind man by putting mud on his eyes, giving him "light" - the classic literary metaphor for understanding.  This miracle upset the Jewish teachers because He did it on the Sabbath, which was breaking the rules.  They challenged Jesus. 
As he responded, "Some of the Pharisees hearing these things asked Him, 'Are we also blind?'  Jesus answered, 'If you were blind, you would have no guilt, but now that you say, 'We see,' your guilt remains.'" (v. 40-41) 
Jesus is telling us that we are too good.  In fact, it is our very trying to be good that damns us.  If we were more aware of our sin, we would be more aware of our need for Christ.  If my student were more aware of how much they didn't know, they would be more aware of their need for knowledge.  I think this is why God doesn't take away all the things that are wrong in the world - they remind humanity of our need for God.  Jewish tradition believe that bad things happened because people didn't obey the rules - as consequence of sin.  Jesus instead says that "It is not this man that sinned, nor his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed."  (v. 3)

The problem is not that we are too sinful, or mess up too much.  God can fix that problem; in fact, he already has. 
As Tim Keller points out, man "is not losing the father's love in spite of his goodness, but because of it.  It is not his sins that create the barrier between him and his father, it's the pride he has in his moral record; it's not wrongdoing, but righteousness." 
(Prodigal God, p. 35)

Friday, April 1, 2011

when being "good" is bad

You diligently study the scriptures because you think that by them you possess eternal life.  These are the very Scriptures that testify about me ... I have come in my Father's name, and you do not accept me, but if someone comes in his own name, you will accept him.  How can you believe if you accept praise from one another, yet make no effort to obtain the praise that comes only from God?  But do not think I will accuse you before the Father.  Your accuser is Moses, on whom your hopes are set.
Jesus of Nazareth (from John's Gospel, 5:39;43-45)
When I try to "be good," it's for one of two reasons - and Jesus calls me out on them right here:

1)  I do what I think is "good" because I selfishly want to earn my spot in eternity.  I make rules for myself regarding daily Bible reading, helping people that I judge as needier than myself, and other good habits because I think I can guarantee myself a better life. 
"There are two ways to be y our own Savior and Lord:  one is by breaking all moral law and setting your own course, and one is by keeeping all the moral law and being very, very good." 
(Keller, Prodigal God, p. 43)
2)  I seek other people's praise by means of being good - by upholding the moral law Moses gave Judeo-Christian tradition.  If no one notices, I will often stop doing good, because I find it unrewarding to simply complete the actions. 

Yet despite not seeking Christ, it is not He who will condemn me - he knows that I have a moral inability to seek Him; I will be damned by the rules that I elevated above Him, the moral fervor that I let envigorate me more than Him, and the actions that I let affirm me instead of Him.  It's not that Christ wants to judge us - He wants to affirm us, and is very jealous of the things we let take that place.  He is our cuckolded spouse, and just wants us back. 

He wants us to celebrate with Him.  I think it is very significant that His first miracle (two chapters earlier in John's gospel) was turning water to wine.  The jars He filled with wine were those used for purification rites, so effectively He turned holy water - meant for the cleansing of shortcomings which had kept us from God - to wine so that we could celebrate in Him, and let Him clean us up.  He both obeyed the rules by obeying His mother's request, and overtuned the rules by converting ritual water.  No ritual we do will match the joy and celebration that being with Him can bring ...

"When we read scripture, we bring a lens of rebellion to it, and harp on what we don't want to hear (rules) rather than glorying in the promises of God"  ~  Ray Ortlund (08.mar.11)

Thursday, March 31, 2011

smokescreen or spotlight?

It's no wonder that when the prayer modeled in church services is only to provide a screen for the band to sneak back on stage, we learn to pray in order to distract - to recite our catchy phrases and display our knowledge so that others don't see our innate and utter weakness. 

I have been blessed to finally get to experience bold, real, corporate prayer.  Thank you Lord.  Thank you Immanuel Church.  Thank you to the guys that force me to do it personally - it spotlights my weakness and finds holes in theology as we pray for revival.  I am looking forward to that breath of reality in my week tomorrow morning - 6 a.m., Ugly Muggs.  Come see..

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

why Christianity is different

"Jesus himself was the temple to end all temples, the priest to end all priests, and the sacrifice to end all sacrifices.  No one had ever heard of anything like this.  So the Romans called them athiests because what the Christians were saying about spiritual reality could not be classified with the other religions of the world.  The irony of this should not be lost on us - to most people in our society, Christianity is religion and moralism.

Jesus's teaching consistently attracted the irreligious while offending the Bible-believing, religious people of his day ... if the preaching of our ministers and practice of our parishioners do not have the same effect on people that Jesus had, then we must not be declaring the same message that Jesus did." 

Tim Keller, Prodigal God, p. 13-14; 16


Christianity is not supposed to be about "good-and-bad," "right-and-wrong," "them-and-us" moralism.  This is an unusual expectation in religions.