I have been reading a very interesting series of books of the life of King Arthur set in the 5th and 6th centuries of Britain. One of the things that stood out in my recent indulgence of these episodes was the unusual era of peace that Arthur's Kingdom was experiencing. Most of the time Arthur was at war with someone, either other Britons or the invading Saxons. It was during a time of peace that Bernard Cornwell weaved an axiom worth noting. Cornwell, the author, wrote that when men are at peace they grow restless and look for trouble, stirring up mischief and what not.
How true of the Christian life as well. When everything is going smoothly in our Christian walk we cannot help but grow a little complacent. We are not challenged by anything and so we think the Christian life is easy. Grace is taken for granted since we are not being faced with any outstanding sins. Risks are taken, believers step a little closer to the edge just to see what's over the lip of the cliff. Sin is tasted, sampled and even indulged in to a greater degree, and nothing happens. We get away with it and we feel safe. But we're not. Paul told the Corinthians, "So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you do not fall." You may think there is no war, no conflict with sin, but that is where the enemy wants you. That's where he can trap you.
Along the lines of theology, I have been reading James Packer's Knowing God. Speaking of the trials a Christian faces he writes this:
"The type of ministry that is here in mind starts by stressing, in an evangelistic context, the difference that becomeing a Christian will make. Not only will it bring man forgiveness of sins, peace of conscience, and fellowship with God as his Father; it will also mean that, through the power of the indwelling Spirit, he will be able to overcome the sins that previously mastered him, and the light and leading that God will give him will enable him to find a way through problems of guidance, self-fulfilment, personal relations, heart's desire, and such like, which had hitherto defeated him completely. Now, put like that, in general terms, these great assurances are scriptural and true - praise God, they are! But it is possible so to stess them, and so to play down the rougher side of the Christian life - the daily chastening, the endless war with sin and Satan, the periodic walk in darkness - as to give the impression that normal Christian living is a perfect bed of roses, a state of affairs in which everything in the garden is lovely all the time, and problems no longer exist - or, if they come, they have only to be taken to the throne of grace, and they will melt away at once. This is to suggest that the world, the flesh, and the devil, will give a man no serious trouble once he is a Christian; nor will his circumstances and personal relationships ever be a problem to him; nor will ever be a problem to himself. Such suggestions are mischievous, however, because they are false."
There you have it. We have been duped by well meaning preachers inviting us to come to Jesus and everything will be alright. That is, all our problems will be no more. That just isn't the case. The preacher wants to win his hearers to Christ; therefore he glamorises the Christian life, making it sound as perfect and carefree as he can in order to win them. Some will discern and see through this and understand what the preacher is saying; others will swallow the hook and line and believe it all. And then they discover that the Christian life is not like that at all. They wonder why they still struggle with sin and bad attitudes and relationships. It's discouraging to feel that one is failing Christ and abusing his grace day in and day out.
We need to understand the Christian life from our Heavenly Father's perspective. He is a good shepherd and is very gentle with the young in faith. Many of us have experienced the beginning of our Christian life and the joy of it and the remarkable answers to prayer we receive. Through this God has encouraged us as young Christians need to be encouraged. He establishes us in the Christian life this way. But then as they grow stronger in the faith, more mature in Christian things, He graduates us to a tougher school. He exposes us to testing and opposition and all manner of pressure. God does this to build character, to strengthen our faith, to form our values.
So when we think we are experiencing an increase in temptation and conflict we can be assured that this is not unnatural. As Packer said, it would be quite abnormal if it did not happen to increase. To the uninitiated in the faith the cry "It's not working anymore" is quite common since they were led to believe that life would be grand with Jesus. Don't get me wrong - it is grand to be with Jesus - but Jesus did not say it would be easy. To stand with Jesus is to stand in occupied territory and to send the enemy a message: "We belong to Christ" and he will wretch at the thought and plan your downfall. This is war - spiritual warfare. And so we must face sin and struggle with it. Constantly.
Victory will be known only when Jesus comes. But keep fighting and failing and fighting some more and don't give up on the grace of Jesus. This is our only hope. You can't be perfect but that is okay - his grace is perfect for us.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
A theology of FOOD
Sharon and I have gone GREEN. No not tree-hugging, granola-crunching environmentally green. Salad green actually. We have decided that at our age it is time to start making healthier choices when it comes to food. Our diet is consisting of more fruits and vegetables and watching our fat intake while choosing to make recipes that are good for you. Several observations arise out of this experience and have an impact on life as we know it:
One recipe that my dear wife decided to experiment with was three bean stew. It consists of lima beans, black beans and dried kidney beans with a chicken stock base. There are also peppers and spices mixed in for flavor. Sounds good right? And healthy too, right? Nope. Doesn't taste like anything, except spicey. But it is good for you. What continued the locomotion (and I do mean loco) of bringing spoon to face was the knowledge that finally we are eating right. We have become so used to self-indulgent pleasure seeking that we assume that our food should not only be healthy but that it should taste good too. There should be a party in my mouth every time I sit down to a meal, or so we have been trained to think. On the contrary, God has provided us with foods that are made for the body and while that evil thing called a tongue is tempting us to please it, in reality it is the stomach, nay the body, that needs to be served properly. The tongue is but a small part of the body and yet it demands great attention and pleasure. So I learned that to eat is not an experience so much as it is a necessity and one that beckons us to put the right things in the body.
Part of this revelation came through my reading of one of Alexander Solzhenitsyn's novels, A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. Ivan, or Shukov as he is called in the story, was a political prisoner in a Soviet work camp buried in the Siberian wilderness. The story follows exactly one day in the experiences of Shukov. What is most compelling about Shukov's day is the centrality of food as the ultimate of moments. Shukov is overjoyed when a barrack mate receives his monthly package from family. In that package there is contained sausages and sweets and other goodies. What that means for Shukov is that his bunk mate does not need his ration at supper and therefore he gets two. It turns out that the coveted meal is a hard, crusty bread with a bowl of some sort of gruel. The gruel contains small fish parts that, if one is lucky, may be consumed by sucking the bones clean, chewing on the marrow, and eventually devouring the entire thing. Shukov has a method of eating: because the allotment is meager, he takes out his home made spoon, created from melted down wire scraps, and slowly eats the gruel letting each spoonful wander around his mouth. With the second bowl he does the same slow methodical process within the short time the camp guards allow them to eat. By eating slowly Shukov believed that he received a greater benefit out of the meal and was less hungry than others who simply wolfed down their bowlfuls. And the food was nothing to write home about. That is appreciating food.
It further reminded me of my childhood when I visited my aunts in the town of Steinbach. Forced to tag along with my parents we would visit Tante Trutje (Aunt Gertrude) and Tante Anne. Being of Mennonite heritage their food was also of that sort. Meal time was a terror for a finicky kid who had few favorites in terms of dishes. The old aunties would serve hallopsche (cabbage roles), or borscht, or some overboiled beef with cabbage, or maybe just pluma moos (fruit soup). Being a finicky youngster I remember that even at home when my mom would serve lasagna, I would opt for Lipton's Chicken Noodle soup, much to the chagrin of my brother and sister and other family members. They bugged me constantly about my lack of menu. Back to the aunties then, I think now of how these ladies who had come through the Depression and really hard times must have wondered at the ingrate who sat at their table. When they knew times of hardship having food was a Godsend no matter what it was. Food was food no matter what it tasted like.
Ironically, as time passed, I became a connoisseur of different foods. Now I enjoy the Mennonite, or so called, dishes like borscht and perogies with farmer sausage and cream sauce. But they are not good for the body; they are fatty. I have eaten in Paraguay, Brazil, Turkey and Greece and have an appreciation for the foods of those countries, however different they might be. And now I must deny myself some of them, along with American cuisine, because they are unhealthy. Actually Turkey and Greece both have quite healthy foods (but I'm not living there am I). I have come full circle in my food journey.
The point is this: God has given us food and many other good things in life. Yes they are to be enjoyed but not to the point of worship. If food does not taste fantastic but it is still food and good for the body, give thanks to God and shut up and eat it. Give thanks for all the good things because as the letter written by James in the Bible says, all good things come from God. And eating salad for 30 days makes a trip to Tony Roma's that much sweeter. AMEN
One recipe that my dear wife decided to experiment with was three bean stew. It consists of lima beans, black beans and dried kidney beans with a chicken stock base. There are also peppers and spices mixed in for flavor. Sounds good right? And healthy too, right? Nope. Doesn't taste like anything, except spicey. But it is good for you. What continued the locomotion (and I do mean loco) of bringing spoon to face was the knowledge that finally we are eating right. We have become so used to self-indulgent pleasure seeking that we assume that our food should not only be healthy but that it should taste good too. There should be a party in my mouth every time I sit down to a meal, or so we have been trained to think. On the contrary, God has provided us with foods that are made for the body and while that evil thing called a tongue is tempting us to please it, in reality it is the stomach, nay the body, that needs to be served properly. The tongue is but a small part of the body and yet it demands great attention and pleasure. So I learned that to eat is not an experience so much as it is a necessity and one that beckons us to put the right things in the body.
Part of this revelation came through my reading of one of Alexander Solzhenitsyn's novels, A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. Ivan, or Shukov as he is called in the story, was a political prisoner in a Soviet work camp buried in the Siberian wilderness. The story follows exactly one day in the experiences of Shukov. What is most compelling about Shukov's day is the centrality of food as the ultimate of moments. Shukov is overjoyed when a barrack mate receives his monthly package from family. In that package there is contained sausages and sweets and other goodies. What that means for Shukov is that his bunk mate does not need his ration at supper and therefore he gets two. It turns out that the coveted meal is a hard, crusty bread with a bowl of some sort of gruel. The gruel contains small fish parts that, if one is lucky, may be consumed by sucking the bones clean, chewing on the marrow, and eventually devouring the entire thing. Shukov has a method of eating: because the allotment is meager, he takes out his home made spoon, created from melted down wire scraps, and slowly eats the gruel letting each spoonful wander around his mouth. With the second bowl he does the same slow methodical process within the short time the camp guards allow them to eat. By eating slowly Shukov believed that he received a greater benefit out of the meal and was less hungry than others who simply wolfed down their bowlfuls. And the food was nothing to write home about. That is appreciating food.It further reminded me of my childhood when I visited my aunts in the town of Steinbach. Forced to tag along with my parents we would visit Tante Trutje (Aunt Gertrude) and Tante Anne. Being of Mennonite heritage their food was also of that sort. Meal time was a terror for a finicky kid who had few favorites in terms of dishes. The old aunties would serve hallopsche (cabbage roles), or borscht, or some overboiled beef with cabbage, or maybe just pluma moos (fruit soup). Being a finicky youngster I remember that even at home when my mom would serve lasagna, I would opt for Lipton's Chicken Noodle soup, much to the chagrin of my brother and sister and other family members. They bugged me constantly about my lack of menu. Back to the aunties then, I think now of how these ladies who had come through the Depression and really hard times must have wondered at the ingrate who sat at their table. When they knew times of hardship having food was a Godsend no matter what it was. Food was food no matter what it tasted like.
Ironically, as time passed, I became a connoisseur of different foods. Now I enjoy the Mennonite, or so called, dishes like borscht and perogies with farmer sausage and cream sauce. But they are not good for the body; they are fatty. I have eaten in Paraguay, Brazil, Turkey and Greece and have an appreciation for the foods of those countries, however different they might be. And now I must deny myself some of them, along with American cuisine, because they are unhealthy. Actually Turkey and Greece both have quite healthy foods (but I'm not living there am I). I have come full circle in my food journey.
The point is this: God has given us food and many other good things in life. Yes they are to be enjoyed but not to the point of worship. If food does not taste fantastic but it is still food and good for the body, give thanks to God and shut up and eat it. Give thanks for all the good things because as the letter written by James in the Bible says, all good things come from God. And eating salad for 30 days makes a trip to Tony Roma's that much sweeter. AMEN
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Remembrance Day
The further along we journey in history the greater our legends grow. Many people in Canada are trying to keep alive the military history of our country. I have no problem with this but wonder how we can do that in a "relevant" conscious way. Our young people would be reminded of the sacrifice that our soldiers made in the Great War, the Second World War and Korea. But for many young Canadians it must be a bit of a stretch. The Germans who were once considered baby-eaters and Huns, the scourge of modern Europe, now make some great cars and other products, are NATO allies, and would be the last nation on the Axis of Evil, if such a thing existed. The same could be said for the Japanese, who also make great cars and other products and are allies in the Pacific. In fact, to the post-Modern mind it is a strain to try and imagine that these people were ever our enemies.
However, we find continual emphasis placed on remembering, at least on November 11th, that our freedom came with a cost. For those of a Non-Peace Church tradition a Scripture is attached to the memory and emotion of these young men and women: "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends" John 15:13. Jesus was applying these words to the upcoming event of his crucifixion and the propitiation he would exact from this act. Seriously, this is not the same thing at all. But it is hard to argue that those who died in the Wars did not sacrifice themselves for upcoming generations who would reap the benefits of not having to live under the tyranny of German rule.
World War 1 makes the least sense of most wars. The "Cousins" were bored with their royal rule and decided a war would shake things up. Okay, that's not exactly what happened. How Germany found a case for war in the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand is beyond my understanding. What that had to do with France or Great Britain is also beyond rational comprehension. Canadian pride and loyalty to the Crown drove our nation into this war with the result that an identity was born for this young nation. But at what cost? Yet this is the war that reminds us most of the sober pride we have in our contribution as Canadians. Hey, the Canadians were the storm troopers of the First World War - there were none better. They would have gone all the way to Berlin if the War had not ended. It's just that to today's teenager it is a difficult thing to explain the reason for this War.
World War 2 came the closest to being labeled a "Just War." Hitler was the great Antichrist of the middle 20th century and Nazi power had to be broken. The Axis agenda was truly to conquer and rule the world, or so the propaganda has led me to believe. However, this War could have been avoided had the League of Nations shown a little more grace to the humbled German empire of the post-World War 1 era. This tragedy might have been averted had the triumphant nations not "stuck it to them" and exacted a revenge that decimated the economy of Germany. Out of this quagmire and misery came the opportunity to birth a Fuhrer of tremendously evil proportions.
Well, I started out wanting to write a tribute to the young Canadians of World War 1. What happened? Guess my thoughts went astray of my ambition. I wanted to write about the young man from the small Manitoba town that joined up with the Royal Winnipeg Rifles to see the world, have some fun and be home by Christmas. I wanted to express his thoughts of horror as he realized in the midst of intense shelling, the disintegration of friends in those blasts, the smell of rotting flesh and missing limbs, that he was in hell. That it dawned on him that winning medals and achieving glory were nothing compared to surviving and getting out somehow. Or that maybe he knew that now that he was "in it" that he had to finish the job whether it made sense or not.
No we cannot forget. Let's not be blind either. Let's not allow the emotionalism of the terrible cost blur the reasons behind this global crucible. Doesn't the slogan "Lest we Forget" urge us to remember the horrors and be very careful this does not happen again? If they laid down their lives so that we could live in this secure, democratic and prosperous nation and did it on the basis of greater love, can we not honor that?
However, we find continual emphasis placed on remembering, at least on November 11th, that our freedom came with a cost. For those of a Non-Peace Church tradition a Scripture is attached to the memory and emotion of these young men and women: "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends" John 15:13. Jesus was applying these words to the upcoming event of his crucifixion and the propitiation he would exact from this act. Seriously, this is not the same thing at all. But it is hard to argue that those who died in the Wars did not sacrifice themselves for upcoming generations who would reap the benefits of not having to live under the tyranny of German rule.
World War 1 makes the least sense of most wars. The "Cousins" were bored with their royal rule and decided a war would shake things up. Okay, that's not exactly what happened. How Germany found a case for war in the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand is beyond my understanding. What that had to do with France or Great Britain is also beyond rational comprehension. Canadian pride and loyalty to the Crown drove our nation into this war with the result that an identity was born for this young nation. But at what cost? Yet this is the war that reminds us most of the sober pride we have in our contribution as Canadians. Hey, the Canadians were the storm troopers of the First World War - there were none better. They would have gone all the way to Berlin if the War had not ended. It's just that to today's teenager it is a difficult thing to explain the reason for this War.World War 2 came the closest to being labeled a "Just War." Hitler was the great Antichrist of the middle 20th century and Nazi power had to be broken. The Axis agenda was truly to conquer and rule the world, or so the propaganda has led me to believe. However, this War could have been avoided had the League of Nations shown a little more grace to the humbled German empire of the post-World War 1 era. This tragedy might have been averted had the triumphant nations not "stuck it to them" and exacted a revenge that decimated the economy of Germany. Out of this quagmire and misery came the opportunity to birth a Fuhrer of tremendously evil proportions.
Well, I started out wanting to write a tribute to the young Canadians of World War 1. What happened? Guess my thoughts went astray of my ambition. I wanted to write about the young man from the small Manitoba town that joined up with the Royal Winnipeg Rifles to see the world, have some fun and be home by Christmas. I wanted to express his thoughts of horror as he realized in the midst of intense shelling, the disintegration of friends in those blasts, the smell of rotting flesh and missing limbs, that he was in hell. That it dawned on him that winning medals and achieving glory were nothing compared to surviving and getting out somehow. Or that maybe he knew that now that he was "in it" that he had to finish the job whether it made sense or not.
No we cannot forget. Let's not be blind either. Let's not allow the emotionalism of the terrible cost blur the reasons behind this global crucible. Doesn't the slogan "Lest we Forget" urge us to remember the horrors and be very careful this does not happen again? If they laid down their lives so that we could live in this secure, democratic and prosperous nation and did it on the basis of greater love, can we not honor that?
Monday, October 20, 2008
Paeschendaele
Just saw the movie Paeschendaele last night. It was our anniversary and Sharon agreed to watch this romance/war movie for our 12th. Actually stopped at The Fyxx for supper and though I wasn't hungry we had the perfect meal for the situation. Anyways, we went to see this movie by Paul Gross, the guy who played the Mountie in Due South. Turns out he is a good writer and director as well as actor. This movie should win a boatload of Oscars. Several thoughts emerge from my viewing of this flick:
1) Canadian movies used to suck. Note "used to". This film is as good as any on the silver screen today, maybe even the best. There was a story, a well thought out plot and character development. The effects were very well done (I knew the movie was shot entirely in Alberta but forgot convenientlly when the army was supposed to be in France).
2) The brother and sister, Sarah and David Mann, were of German descent. Their father, a twist in the movie plot, when thought to have died for Canada at the battle of Vimy Ridge, actually fought for the Germans. This brings a terrible result on the children back in Canada. It made me think of our Mennonite anscestors and what they must have gone through having spoken mostly German in a nation that believed all things German to be evil. What did our people experience in terms of persecution, not for their faith, but for their culture. I know that some of our young men signed up and fought for the Canadian army in World War 1. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them, went to war. Why? I am curious to know what persuaded them to do this. We will probably never know. I do know that when they returned they were kicked out of their churches and either turned their back on the church or joined mainline churches.
3) Another thought springs from my watching of this movie. How can we forget? My Mennonite forefathers enjoyed the privileges of a country that allowed them to school their children in German; possess religious freedom; and abstain from military service. These freedoms were bought with the blood of other Canadian citizens. Now war is hell, there is no doubt, but if we truly believe in Nonresistance and promoting peace "at all costs" then there is no way we can claim the freedoms of our nation and call it "our nation." We must in response be a landless people, a people without a country. Either that or accept that we are Canadians and understand that to bear that title is to be baptized in the blood of others. This is harsh, I know, but any nationality we assume is grounded in the same truth. You cannot be American, or German, or Mexican, or Bolivian, without comprehending that those titles and privileges came at a cost. Perhaps as the Apostle Paul said, we must claim only one citizenship, the citizenship of heaven (Ephesians). One thing I know, we are pretending if we think we can be Canadian and ignore the message of Paeschendaele.
1) Canadian movies used to suck. Note "used to". This film is as good as any on the silver screen today, maybe even the best. There was a story, a well thought out plot and character development. The effects were very well done (I knew the movie was shot entirely in Alberta but forgot convenientlly when the army was supposed to be in France).
2) The brother and sister, Sarah and David Mann, were of German descent. Their father, a twist in the movie plot, when thought to have died for Canada at the battle of Vimy Ridge, actually fought for the Germans. This brings a terrible result on the children back in Canada. It made me think of our Mennonite anscestors and what they must have gone through having spoken mostly German in a nation that believed all things German to be evil. What did our people experience in terms of persecution, not for their faith, but for their culture. I know that some of our young men signed up and fought for the Canadian army in World War 1. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them, went to war. Why? I am curious to know what persuaded them to do this. We will probably never know. I do know that when they returned they were kicked out of their churches and either turned their back on the church or joined mainline churches.
3) Another thought springs from my watching of this movie. How can we forget? My Mennonite forefathers enjoyed the privileges of a country that allowed them to school their children in German; possess religious freedom; and abstain from military service. These freedoms were bought with the blood of other Canadian citizens. Now war is hell, there is no doubt, but if we truly believe in Nonresistance and promoting peace "at all costs" then there is no way we can claim the freedoms of our nation and call it "our nation." We must in response be a landless people, a people without a country. Either that or accept that we are Canadians and understand that to bear that title is to be baptized in the blood of others. This is harsh, I know, but any nationality we assume is grounded in the same truth. You cannot be American, or German, or Mexican, or Bolivian, without comprehending that those titles and privileges came at a cost. Perhaps as the Apostle Paul said, we must claim only one citizenship, the citizenship of heaven (Ephesians). One thing I know, we are pretending if we think we can be Canadian and ignore the message of Paeschendaele.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Remembering...
As I was praying this morning a thought came to me. It is not unusual for me to get these thoughts while praying and it seems to be how God speaks to me at times.
The thought was this: Early in our marriage, and until only a few years ago really, I would often reminisce in my head about how Sharon and I got together. It was really a romantic story which I may get into at another time. Suffice to say right now I realized that I wasn't going "there" as much as I used to. Now and then I would visit the scenes of my memory and how excited I was to have someone in my life that loved me as much as I loved her. It was also exciting to be able to go through the courtship rituals, the dating, the planning of the "sure-thing" engagement. Remembering those times would remind me of how fortunate I was to have this beautiful woman in my life. But lately I was not going back to those videos of my mind. And I realized this morning that I didn't need to. The past is important and now and then we must remember and celebrate what started the great romantic journey. But the truth is, now and the future have become more important. Now and the future, more "now" than future, is where I live. I look at Sharon and I don't see the girl from my "past" fairytale, I see the woman of my present marriage. I no longer think, "how did I get here" but "isn't great to be here?" There is security in the love that has grown and developed over the years, the history that has been shared, the time invested in another person. And I don't feel I need to revisit the romantic dream to appreciate where I am at with Sharon right now.
Now the theology in this is quite something. The Cross is the most important historical event that ever was and ever will be on this earth. It was at the Cross that Jesus showed his incredible love for you and me and began the divine romance on our end. When we need to remind ourselves of the length and depth and breadth of God's love for us all we need to do is look at the Cross. We visit this scene in our minds when we doubt our salvation or God's affection for us; we celebrate it in communion; we rehearse the steps at Easter. And yet there is the same growth as in a marriage relationship whereby we do not need to go to the Cross in the same way as when we were first saved. There is time spent with Jesus. There are memories of the things accomplished together in the Spirit since that day. There are answered prayers, an assurance that we have been heard and answered. It is not that we don't need to visit the Cross memory to recall what Jesus did, but we don't need to reinvent our salvation to feel what Jesus means to us. We remember the divine romance of our first love with Jesus but now we live in the present and the future of a secure relationship that is based on so much more.
Maybe that's obvious. Maybe we just need to see it and say it. Well, there it is.
The thought was this: Early in our marriage, and until only a few years ago really, I would often reminisce in my head about how Sharon and I got together. It was really a romantic story which I may get into at another time. Suffice to say right now I realized that I wasn't going "there" as much as I used to. Now and then I would visit the scenes of my memory and how excited I was to have someone in my life that loved me as much as I loved her. It was also exciting to be able to go through the courtship rituals, the dating, the planning of the "sure-thing" engagement. Remembering those times would remind me of how fortunate I was to have this beautiful woman in my life. But lately I was not going back to those videos of my mind. And I realized this morning that I didn't need to. The past is important and now and then we must remember and celebrate what started the great romantic journey. But the truth is, now and the future have become more important. Now and the future, more "now" than future, is where I live. I look at Sharon and I don't see the girl from my "past" fairytale, I see the woman of my present marriage. I no longer think, "how did I get here" but "isn't great to be here?" There is security in the love that has grown and developed over the years, the history that has been shared, the time invested in another person. And I don't feel I need to revisit the romantic dream to appreciate where I am at with Sharon right now.
Now the theology in this is quite something. The Cross is the most important historical event that ever was and ever will be on this earth. It was at the Cross that Jesus showed his incredible love for you and me and began the divine romance on our end. When we need to remind ourselves of the length and depth and breadth of God's love for us all we need to do is look at the Cross. We visit this scene in our minds when we doubt our salvation or God's affection for us; we celebrate it in communion; we rehearse the steps at Easter. And yet there is the same growth as in a marriage relationship whereby we do not need to go to the Cross in the same way as when we were first saved. There is time spent with Jesus. There are memories of the things accomplished together in the Spirit since that day. There are answered prayers, an assurance that we have been heard and answered. It is not that we don't need to visit the Cross memory to recall what Jesus did, but we don't need to reinvent our salvation to feel what Jesus means to us. We remember the divine romance of our first love with Jesus but now we live in the present and the future of a secure relationship that is based on so much more.
Maybe that's obvious. Maybe we just need to see it and say it. Well, there it is.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Authority
I recently finished reading a book on authority called "Under Cover" by John Bevere. Now his theology is basic and yet quite clearly bang on despite its simplicity. How he hears the voice of God and the consequences of his interpretation of such hearing is open to critique. Yet when he does listen to the Spirit's voice it is usually for the better. So I will not be too harsh on what he believes he hears. In fact, I have had those promptings myself and am only jealous that I don't hear them more often.
Bevere writes on authority in the church, in leadership, in the home and in the marriage. Since reading his book I have found that I am more sensitive to the references on authority in the Bible. It is quite remarkable and also quite shameful in how we have lost the essence of authority in our lives. Several biblical examples of respecting authority come to mind: One is the story of Saul and David where while Saul was king, David was the anointed successor. Even though David had every right to the throne and could have killed Saul several times, David refused to harm the Lord's anointed and current king. He had a deep respect for what God had instituted and would wait upon the Lord to have this worked out. Another example of respecting authority was when Paul in Acts was struck in the face and he retorted by calling the person a "white-washed wall", a great insult at the time. When he discovered that the person was the high priest, he repented of his insult recognizing that God had given this person a position of authority. Without going into great detail about these stories it is obvious that godly people respected the authorities of their time even though they were acting in evil ways.
Today we have broken down the authority of every sphere of life for our own pleasure. We think it our right to criticize the government. We think it our right to challenge policemen when they scold us for bending the law. We think it our right to claim equality with those in leadership so that we don't have to do what they say. We claim equality of the sexes so that no one's feelings get hurt and thereby ignore the unique and functional differences between men and women. we think it our right to discuss the preacher's sermon as if it were up for debate about how he spoke, what he wore, the illustrations he used and so on. We ignore the content and theology of his sermon to pick at his demeanor or what he failed to do the week before. We ignore the authority of our leaders because it suits us better. Yet we also deny ourselves the blessing of God who wants to see us respect the authority of our leaders which he has given them. That is the key: God gave them authority and therefore we resist God when we resist authority.
This is nothing new. From the rebellion in the Garden to the American Revolution to the Freedom marches of the 60s we have always been a rebellious people thumbing our noses to authority. Godly people don't live this way.
Bevere writes on authority in the church, in leadership, in the home and in the marriage. Since reading his book I have found that I am more sensitive to the references on authority in the Bible. It is quite remarkable and also quite shameful in how we have lost the essence of authority in our lives. Several biblical examples of respecting authority come to mind: One is the story of Saul and David where while Saul was king, David was the anointed successor. Even though David had every right to the throne and could have killed Saul several times, David refused to harm the Lord's anointed and current king. He had a deep respect for what God had instituted and would wait upon the Lord to have this worked out. Another example of respecting authority was when Paul in Acts was struck in the face and he retorted by calling the person a "white-washed wall", a great insult at the time. When he discovered that the person was the high priest, he repented of his insult recognizing that God had given this person a position of authority. Without going into great detail about these stories it is obvious that godly people respected the authorities of their time even though they were acting in evil ways.
Today we have broken down the authority of every sphere of life for our own pleasure. We think it our right to criticize the government. We think it our right to challenge policemen when they scold us for bending the law. We think it our right to claim equality with those in leadership so that we don't have to do what they say. We claim equality of the sexes so that no one's feelings get hurt and thereby ignore the unique and functional differences between men and women. we think it our right to discuss the preacher's sermon as if it were up for debate about how he spoke, what he wore, the illustrations he used and so on. We ignore the content and theology of his sermon to pick at his demeanor or what he failed to do the week before. We ignore the authority of our leaders because it suits us better. Yet we also deny ourselves the blessing of God who wants to see us respect the authority of our leaders which he has given them. That is the key: God gave them authority and therefore we resist God when we resist authority.
This is nothing new. From the rebellion in the Garden to the American Revolution to the Freedom marches of the 60s we have always been a rebellious people thumbing our noses to authority. Godly people don't live this way.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Because I can...
What does this picture have to do with theology? Nuthin...got a problem with that? I just wanted to post a happy little picture. This is me at 1880's town in South Dakota. I got to dress up in my alter ego personage. So grab your hogleg or get outta my way.Saturday, March 29, 2008
The ongoing journey of prayer
I have been wanting to blog all week and it has been difficult to find time. As Bill Hybels said, Too busy not to blog. Okay, he said, too busy not too pray, and he didn't say it, it was a title of a book he wrote.
I was thinking the other day of my first experience with prayer beyond what my mother and father taught me. As a little boy I prayed "Now I lay me down to sleep...". I can't remember as a teenager what I prayed except when I had that "horrendous night" where I decided to give myself back to Jesus. That was a desperate prayer. I had been frightened by where my life was headed. God must have taken it seriously because I know he began to bless my life very quickly thereafter.
What I remembered the other day, that first experience, was when I returned home from my lifechanging experience at Red Rock Bible Camp. Christians my own age and who were sincere about Jesus! Go figure. I remember the 5 or 6 of us who had come from Winnipeg. We found it hard to leave each other. Coming down from a mountaintop experience is excruciatingly difficult. Our group of 30 some teenagers who had truly felt the Holy Spirit move among us thought that we had found something that would never die. So when we got off the bus at Braeside, my home church, we had one final prayer. And this is the thing: I can't remember what I prayed. Or how I prayed.
When I prayed recently and thought about what I said to God it occured to me that I had grown in my expression. How, I don't know. I think back then I asked for ridiculous things. But at the same time they were asked in such faith and such assurance that how I asked was not important. Now I have the words but sometimes I don't have the faith of those early days. And yet my faith is so theologically sound now. I wish I had the zeal of those early years, those early days. But I am so thankful that the words, the requests, the expression of praise, the petition is so much better. I just hope it is not eloquence that impresses me. God doesn't need fancy words, he needs the sincerity that I discovered at Red Rock.
I was thinking the other day of my first experience with prayer beyond what my mother and father taught me. As a little boy I prayed "Now I lay me down to sleep...". I can't remember as a teenager what I prayed except when I had that "horrendous night" where I decided to give myself back to Jesus. That was a desperate prayer. I had been frightened by where my life was headed. God must have taken it seriously because I know he began to bless my life very quickly thereafter.
What I remembered the other day, that first experience, was when I returned home from my lifechanging experience at Red Rock Bible Camp. Christians my own age and who were sincere about Jesus! Go figure. I remember the 5 or 6 of us who had come from Winnipeg. We found it hard to leave each other. Coming down from a mountaintop experience is excruciatingly difficult. Our group of 30 some teenagers who had truly felt the Holy Spirit move among us thought that we had found something that would never die. So when we got off the bus at Braeside, my home church, we had one final prayer. And this is the thing: I can't remember what I prayed. Or how I prayed.
When I prayed recently and thought about what I said to God it occured to me that I had grown in my expression. How, I don't know. I think back then I asked for ridiculous things. But at the same time they were asked in such faith and such assurance that how I asked was not important. Now I have the words but sometimes I don't have the faith of those early days. And yet my faith is so theologically sound now. I wish I had the zeal of those early years, those early days. But I am so thankful that the words, the requests, the expression of praise, the petition is so much better. I just hope it is not eloquence that impresses me. God doesn't need fancy words, he needs the sincerity that I discovered at Red Rock.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Death and Dying
My nephew (Sharon's sister's boy) passed away February 28. He was 10, had autism and a seizure disorder, and a unique character. I didn't know him as well as others did. His TAs and helpers revealed a side of him that I never knew. We taught our children to fear him. Now that does not sound politically correct but the fact is he was a biter. When he felt out of control or in a strange environment he acted out by biting. We feared for our children in the face of this violence. What's more we had our own young ones to look after and we did not have the time to get involved with someone else's child. Well all excuses aside this is how it was.
Despite the things I am telling you there were a lot of tears at the funeral. Rightly so. Here was a human being who was loved and appreciated despite his limitations. He was entitled to love and tributes just like any other person whose name is not Hitler or Stalin or Hussein. No he was not even close to such villains. He was a misunderstood little boy because of a condition that kept him from expressing himself in a way that revealed his true feelings. I shared this scripture with the assembled family and friends that day: "Share each other's burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important...So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up" (Galatians 6:3,9). In other words, Jonah needed us to love him whether he deserved it or not.
Now he is gone and my theology of death kicks in. I have come to terms with my mortality in recent years and with what to hope for in the next life. Many people struggle with or have no comprehension or desire to think of death. At one point in my life I thought about it a lot. I was sure I was going to die instantly in those days, possibly from a heart attack, and I was afraid. My fear was irrational but God used it to explore my understanding of death. Many things come to mind for some of us when we think of our dying. One thing is the sorrow our deaths would cause for those who love us. I obsessed over this and thought how terrible it would be if I died. I cannot tell you how much this thought possessed me and caused me to fear my own death. Another thing was the pain that would come with dying. I have read again and again Woody Allen's quip that he wasn't afraid of dying, he just didn't want to be there when it happened. I felt the same way. Especially when it came to the pain. But there isn't always pain involved with dying. If you fear it then every little twinge of pain, every little tweak of a muscle, makes you think this is it "It's the big one Elizabeth."
I am not afraid of dying anymore. I'll tell you why: When I went through my face to face argument with death I forgot the essence of my faith - the resurrection of Jesus Christ. I also forgot that God takes care of people in ways beyond our human inability to do so. My friend Ang is a testament to the fact that God takes care of people when their spouses die prematurely. She has had hard times but friends and family have helped her through some times. Her faith has grown in this time without Ken. She is a stronger, more vibrant person having come through this fire. So why should I fear for my wife and daughter should I happen to die? I cannot control those events anymore than I can stop the hair from falling out of my scalp. So the question comes down to me and death. And what does death have on me? Nothing! If I die I die in the LORD. If I live I live in the LORD. To live is Christ; to die is gain. I will awaken in the new Kingdom of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Now as for a funeral like Jonah's...I did not cry. I was sure that Jonah, due to his inability to speak or comprehend Christ, that God is gracious and took him to his new room in the kingdom. I am not saying I will never cry at funerals. Good friends have gone on before me and I knew I would miss them. Certainly if Sharon died I would cry for days and weeks. But no, I don't normally cry at funerals, in part because I do so many of them (well, more than the average person), in part because of my theology about heaven and Jesus, but mostly because I am not afraid of death. It is a natural portal to the next life. If we cry we cry because of separation. We may cry because of tragedy. To have witnessed a death must be horrible; to see a person's life taken from them through accident or violence would be traumatic. The death of the elderly or the sick - I am not often led to cry. I have hope that if the person was a believer that I will see them again and for now, they are safe in the promise of Christ.
This life is but the title page or cover of a book. The real story begins when we all get to heaven.
Despite the things I am telling you there were a lot of tears at the funeral. Rightly so. Here was a human being who was loved and appreciated despite his limitations. He was entitled to love and tributes just like any other person whose name is not Hitler or Stalin or Hussein. No he was not even close to such villains. He was a misunderstood little boy because of a condition that kept him from expressing himself in a way that revealed his true feelings. I shared this scripture with the assembled family and friends that day: "Share each other's burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important...So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up" (Galatians 6:3,9). In other words, Jonah needed us to love him whether he deserved it or not.
Now he is gone and my theology of death kicks in. I have come to terms with my mortality in recent years and with what to hope for in the next life. Many people struggle with or have no comprehension or desire to think of death. At one point in my life I thought about it a lot. I was sure I was going to die instantly in those days, possibly from a heart attack, and I was afraid. My fear was irrational but God used it to explore my understanding of death. Many things come to mind for some of us when we think of our dying. One thing is the sorrow our deaths would cause for those who love us. I obsessed over this and thought how terrible it would be if I died. I cannot tell you how much this thought possessed me and caused me to fear my own death. Another thing was the pain that would come with dying. I have read again and again Woody Allen's quip that he wasn't afraid of dying, he just didn't want to be there when it happened. I felt the same way. Especially when it came to the pain. But there isn't always pain involved with dying. If you fear it then every little twinge of pain, every little tweak of a muscle, makes you think this is it "It's the big one Elizabeth."
I am not afraid of dying anymore. I'll tell you why: When I went through my face to face argument with death I forgot the essence of my faith - the resurrection of Jesus Christ. I also forgot that God takes care of people in ways beyond our human inability to do so. My friend Ang is a testament to the fact that God takes care of people when their spouses die prematurely. She has had hard times but friends and family have helped her through some times. Her faith has grown in this time without Ken. She is a stronger, more vibrant person having come through this fire. So why should I fear for my wife and daughter should I happen to die? I cannot control those events anymore than I can stop the hair from falling out of my scalp. So the question comes down to me and death. And what does death have on me? Nothing! If I die I die in the LORD. If I live I live in the LORD. To live is Christ; to die is gain. I will awaken in the new Kingdom of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Now as for a funeral like Jonah's...I did not cry. I was sure that Jonah, due to his inability to speak or comprehend Christ, that God is gracious and took him to his new room in the kingdom. I am not saying I will never cry at funerals. Good friends have gone on before me and I knew I would miss them. Certainly if Sharon died I would cry for days and weeks. But no, I don't normally cry at funerals, in part because I do so many of them (well, more than the average person), in part because of my theology about heaven and Jesus, but mostly because I am not afraid of death. It is a natural portal to the next life. If we cry we cry because of separation. We may cry because of tragedy. To have witnessed a death must be horrible; to see a person's life taken from them through accident or violence would be traumatic. The death of the elderly or the sick - I am not often led to cry. I have hope that if the person was a believer that I will see them again and for now, they are safe in the promise of Christ.
This life is but the title page or cover of a book. The real story begins when we all get to heaven.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Life and Ice
This is not theology so much as it is just appreciating something about the life God has given me. Maybe it is theology in that way. I was playing hockey on monday night as I usually do with the guys from church. It was really cool because my good friend Rob Wiebe was playing too. He hadn't played in years and was excited to come out and try his legs. Because of him our wives came to watch and I could feel the adrenalin rushing through me to impress our inflated crowd. We usually don't have a crowd. Extra special was the unique fact that my brother Murray was playing goal for us. Our regular goalie was in Mexico on a holiday (where are the priorities). I called Murray to see if he wanted to play for us, just like the Tim Horton's commercial. He hadn't played in 15 years and is presently 50 years old himself. I was worried he might die of a heart attack, but hey, why not die doing what you love?
What I really enjoyed that night will sound strange compared to all these good things I just mentioned. I loved hearing my skates scrape across the ice. When the blade would dip down and graze the surface you could hear metal grabbing frozen water. It was so cool. When I first got onto the ice I glided out and literally, yes, glided. Then taking sharp turns to warm up, I felt like I was a superstar. Now I know I am a poor excuse for a hockey player, but so what? It was like I was a different person all suited up. Wearing that armor and skating with the boys brings out the warrior in me. That Eldridge guy who wrote Wild at Heart would understand this. Men all have a warrior in us and we need to express that wild nature in some form. My expression is hockey and it makes a world of difference between playing it on PS2 and doing it for real. The blades of my skates scraping the ice was a beautiful sound...the sound of power, the sound of battle, the sound of action. I just love hockey. And I believe God created hockey for guys who need to do battle without killing each other. Well some guys. So I praise God for hockey. Nuff said.
What I really enjoyed that night will sound strange compared to all these good things I just mentioned. I loved hearing my skates scrape across the ice. When the blade would dip down and graze the surface you could hear metal grabbing frozen water. It was so cool. When I first got onto the ice I glided out and literally, yes, glided. Then taking sharp turns to warm up, I felt like I was a superstar. Now I know I am a poor excuse for a hockey player, but so what? It was like I was a different person all suited up. Wearing that armor and skating with the boys brings out the warrior in me. That Eldridge guy who wrote Wild at Heart would understand this. Men all have a warrior in us and we need to express that wild nature in some form. My expression is hockey and it makes a world of difference between playing it on PS2 and doing it for real. The blades of my skates scraping the ice was a beautiful sound...the sound of power, the sound of battle, the sound of action. I just love hockey. And I believe God created hockey for guys who need to do battle without killing each other. Well some guys. So I praise God for hockey. Nuff said.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Fredrick Douglass
The biography of Charles Spurgeon was amazing and I hope to read another one about him. This time around I turned to another 19th century figure by the name of Fredrick Douglass. Reading biographies like this helps us to see so many things about our world that we just don't get from TV or movies. Biographies teach us about the past and yet give us an insight into our world today and about ourselves. We think that we are learning new things but some of these discoveries were learned by others long ago. I encourage everyone to read biographies of great people. You will find that great people started out where we are.
Douglass was born in the early 1800s, the child of a slave mother and rumored to be fathered by his master. His coloring was said to be golden as a result. If you want to have a good look at the life of slaves in early America you can read "Uncle Tom's Cabin" or you can read this story about Douglass. It is not a pretty picture. What is most disturbing is that many so-called good Christians who were pious on Sunday were horrible masters, beating their slaves, selling them into greater hardships if they disobeyed, separating families and killing them, which was fully in their rights to do so.
One of the great ironies of the time was the hypocrisy of the church in the South. Blacks were not allowed to learn to read and therefore the Bible was kept from them. Punishment was dished out on those who taught slaves to read; it was said that teaching them to read would make them crave freedom and try to run away. Yet at the same time the Church supported missions and missionaries to go out into the foreign lands and bring the gospel to the heathens. They sent money to translate the Bible into the foreign languages of a variety of "colored" folks. But at home they preferred their slaves to live in sin and drunkeness, immorality and licentiousness. Douglass could not believe the utter irony and hypocrisy of this mentality.
Fredrick Douglass eventually escaped his masters' bondage and headed North to New York where he met people of the underground railroad. He was set up in Massachusets, taught a trade and eventually got married to his sweetheart from the slave state of Maryland. But his destiny was to become a powerful speaker on the abolitionist circuit. He told his slave story to thousands and inspired a nation to consider that God created all men equal, that anyone who followed Christ would not keep slaves but would give a man his liberty. It is fascinating stuff.
I still have some chapters to read but I am inspired by this man's tenacity and faithfulness to God.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
a theology of colds
Why doesn't the Bible ever mention anybody having a cold?
And verily David didst turn his head upon his pillow and it ranneth forth upon the pillow. Nathan saith unto David, "Thy nose doth runneth over. Didst thy mother never teach thee to blow?" Then David smiteth Nathan upon the jaw with yon slippery palm for it wast wet with snot. Thereupon Nathan was not fully hit upon the jaw because David slippethest.
Okay, but no one ever had a cold in the Bible. Jesus would have lineups for divine septoplasty. I am tired of sounding 2 octaves lower than normal. I am tired of a dry throat in the morning. I am tired of slippery roads (that's another story).
And verily David didst turn his head upon his pillow and it ranneth forth upon the pillow. Nathan saith unto David, "Thy nose doth runneth over. Didst thy mother never teach thee to blow?" Then David smiteth Nathan upon the jaw with yon slippery palm for it wast wet with snot. Thereupon Nathan was not fully hit upon the jaw because David slippethest.
Okay, but no one ever had a cold in the Bible. Jesus would have lineups for divine septoplasty. I am tired of sounding 2 octaves lower than normal. I am tired of a dry throat in the morning. I am tired of slippery roads (that's another story).
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Middle East and the Bible
I have a solid dislike for the Left Behind series. Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins have led a lot of people down the Pre-Millenial path and filled their heads with a lot of mumbo-jumbo about the End Times. People will more easily read a popular novel than study the Scriptures to see for themselves what God has said about the conclusion of history. So the material is taken as gospel truth even though it is based on a Hal Lindsey-ish premise. Unfortunately readers will assume what they are reading is possible.
Maybe it is. Not in the way LaHaye and Jenkins say it, but perhaps I have ignored, together with other theological thinkers, the possibility of real-time Middle East prophecy coming true. I have been reading Joel Rosenberg's "Epicenter" and I would say he fits in with the Left Behind stuff for the most part. The difference is that he bases more of what he says on careful research and an understanding of the Israeli-Palestine-Russia scenario. He is Jewish and has ties to Russia.
Based on Ezekiel 38-39, Rosenberg paints an all too real and believable picture of the political turmoil surrounding Israel. I had no idea that Russia (Soviet Union) had such an incredible distaste for Israel and has supported the Arab countries surrounding them to attack Israel. Now there is an agreement in the works between Russia and Iran to develop nuclear power for the purpose of energy consumption in Iran. The president of Iran, Ahminejad, hates Jews and has publicly sworn to destroy Israel with the bomb when he gets his hands on it. This is not over folks. If you thought Israel was done having to fight wars against overwhelming enemies you thought wrong.
Where Ezekiel comes in is the interpretation Rosenberg makes of Gog and Magog. He carefully argues that Russia is Magog and Gog is some sort of leader of Magog. Persia is easy since that is the ancient name for Iran. The other countries make sense too in the historical overlay. In short I have come to believe in the prophecy concerning Israel's role in the Final days. I was a skeptic because of Hal Lindsey; I am intrigued because of Rosenberg. We will have to watch the Middle East crisis more carefully from now on. Although I will continue to be discerning about End Times prophecy I will look with more fascination at the developing events. I guess God's not done with Israel after all. What do you think?
Maybe it is. Not in the way LaHaye and Jenkins say it, but perhaps I have ignored, together with other theological thinkers, the possibility of real-time Middle East prophecy coming true. I have been reading Joel Rosenberg's "Epicenter" and I would say he fits in with the Left Behind stuff for the most part. The difference is that he bases more of what he says on careful research and an understanding of the Israeli-Palestine-Russia scenario. He is Jewish and has ties to Russia.
Based on Ezekiel 38-39, Rosenberg paints an all too real and believable picture of the political turmoil surrounding Israel. I had no idea that Russia (Soviet Union) had such an incredible distaste for Israel and has supported the Arab countries surrounding them to attack Israel. Now there is an agreement in the works between Russia and Iran to develop nuclear power for the purpose of energy consumption in Iran. The president of Iran, Ahminejad, hates Jews and has publicly sworn to destroy Israel with the bomb when he gets his hands on it. This is not over folks. If you thought Israel was done having to fight wars against overwhelming enemies you thought wrong.
Where Ezekiel comes in is the interpretation Rosenberg makes of Gog and Magog. He carefully argues that Russia is Magog and Gog is some sort of leader of Magog. Persia is easy since that is the ancient name for Iran. The other countries make sense too in the historical overlay. In short I have come to believe in the prophecy concerning Israel's role in the Final days. I was a skeptic because of Hal Lindsey; I am intrigued because of Rosenberg. We will have to watch the Middle East crisis more carefully from now on. Although I will continue to be discerning about End Times prophecy I will look with more fascination at the developing events. I guess God's not done with Israel after all. What do you think?
Thursday, January 31, 2008
The Ephesus experience
In Spring of 07, Sharon and I had the privilege of visiting the ancient ruins of Ephesus. This theater is the site where Aristarchus and Gaius, friends of the Apostle Paul, were taken by an angry mob to stand trial (?) and possibly face death. They were saved from this experience; you can read about it in Acts 19:23-41. That's me touching the ground where this all happened. I'm kind of nostalgic about stuff like that.
unfailing love
I read today that the "freaks" are coming out already for the Superbowl. One journalist wrote how his first vision was of a lady in white with red pumps. Apparently she had come to the stadium in Phoenix ready to get married to Eli or Tom, or whichever football hero would want to have her.
The world has a strange understanding of love. In "Time" magazine an article suggested that China was opening up to homosexuality and allowing people to have that sort of relationship. Only a decade or so ago they would have imprisoned and/or executed persons for even thinking of such a relationship. Does the whole world have to be gay? What will happen to the human race if we all decide to be gay? If my understanding is correct, only 5 % of the population is gay and yet we hear about it on TV, Movies, articles and the like as if it were the predominant subject the world over. Is this about love?
What is love?
Isaiah 55 speaks of the love God wants to shower on us. Verse 3 says this: "Come to me with your ears wide open. Listen, and you will find life. I will make an everlasting covenant with you. I will give you all the unfailing love I promised to David." The LORD did great things for David. Can you imagine what he would do with us if we were willing to say "my way is wrong, Lord, I choose to live your way" ?
In my own life I have chosen to give up certain lusts and sins that the world calls lifestyle choices. It dawned on me one day that if I could overcome, with Christ's strength, the sins that I was wrapped up in, God could do more with me than I imagined. It was difficult because some things, like pornography, really had a hold on me. With God's help I did overcome my obsessions and can say I am free. There are other sins and weaknesses that I will have to deal with (pride, ambition, insecurity, etc) but I believe that the door for Jesus to work is wider open because this huge sin has been dealt with. Like an alcoholic I have to be careful that I don't drink from this bottle again. However, I feel the peace and freedom that come from choosing God's way and learning to love as he loves.
My wife is the primary target of this new love. As I learn to love God, I learn to love my wife. Then my children and then my friends become the recipients of this divine love. Ultimately what they will learn from me is that love is not about self-gratification but self-sacrifice. That is a huge lesson in itself. Christ is my example. Will you take up your cross daily, deny yourself and follow him? That is the path to understanding love.
Peace
The world has a strange understanding of love. In "Time" magazine an article suggested that China was opening up to homosexuality and allowing people to have that sort of relationship. Only a decade or so ago they would have imprisoned and/or executed persons for even thinking of such a relationship. Does the whole world have to be gay? What will happen to the human race if we all decide to be gay? If my understanding is correct, only 5 % of the population is gay and yet we hear about it on TV, Movies, articles and the like as if it were the predominant subject the world over. Is this about love?
What is love?
Isaiah 55 speaks of the love God wants to shower on us. Verse 3 says this: "Come to me with your ears wide open. Listen, and you will find life. I will make an everlasting covenant with you. I will give you all the unfailing love I promised to David." The LORD did great things for David. Can you imagine what he would do with us if we were willing to say "my way is wrong, Lord, I choose to live your way" ?
In my own life I have chosen to give up certain lusts and sins that the world calls lifestyle choices. It dawned on me one day that if I could overcome, with Christ's strength, the sins that I was wrapped up in, God could do more with me than I imagined. It was difficult because some things, like pornography, really had a hold on me. With God's help I did overcome my obsessions and can say I am free. There are other sins and weaknesses that I will have to deal with (pride, ambition, insecurity, etc) but I believe that the door for Jesus to work is wider open because this huge sin has been dealt with. Like an alcoholic I have to be careful that I don't drink from this bottle again. However, I feel the peace and freedom that come from choosing God's way and learning to love as he loves.
My wife is the primary target of this new love. As I learn to love God, I learn to love my wife. Then my children and then my friends become the recipients of this divine love. Ultimately what they will learn from me is that love is not about self-gratification but self-sacrifice. That is a huge lesson in itself. Christ is my example. Will you take up your cross daily, deny yourself and follow him? That is the path to understanding love.
Peace
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Spurgeon and me
Welcome to my shire. This is the place where you will read my thoughts and interact with me on personal and theological issues. I hope you will feel free to dialogue with me on life and Jesus.
For me a shire is a place of quiet reflection. Imagine us sitting on lush green (bugless) grass beside a quietly bubbling stream and calmly talking about stuff that matters to us. The sun is shining and it's warm but there is a cool breeze. Our shire is a place to speak freely and disagree but not take it personally.
Lately I have been reading about Charles Spurgeon, the great English preacher of the 19th century. Man, that guy was amazing. He began preaching at the age of 17 and was called to an urban church in London at 19. They were so amazed at his ability to speak and his maturity on matters of life that the congregation offered him the position after hearing him preach only once. The church could seat 1200 but only 80 were present that day. No matter since in a year there 5000 associated with the church due to Spurgeon's preaching. I wish I could say there were similarities between us.
I began preaching at 20 and have yet to have the following he has had. One similarity that is quite humorous is the fact that after his home was broken into the Spurgeons got a dog. Mind you it was not a watch dog but a small dog of the Pug variety. We also have a Pug, his name is Buddy, and he thinks he owns the road in front of our house. Whenever a snowmobiler, a car, a truck or even a pedestrian goes by he erupts in a fit of barking. If that same person were to come in to our house Buddy with greet them with a sniff and the anticipation of getting to sit on their laps. Wonder if Spurgeon had the same experience.
Okay I knew at 15 that the LORD was calling me to be a pastor. So that might be another similarity. Spurgeon was known for his simple telling of the gospel, taking complex theological issues and speaking so that anyone could understand. I am not complex. Some have even said I am not dynamic (though I have no idea what that means) or that I am boring (thanks Syl). So be it. God has taken me, called me, given me this work to do and who I am to oppose his plan.
What are your experiences in ministry? How has Spurgeon been an inspiration to you? Is anybody out there?
For me a shire is a place of quiet reflection. Imagine us sitting on lush green (bugless) grass beside a quietly bubbling stream and calmly talking about stuff that matters to us. The sun is shining and it's warm but there is a cool breeze. Our shire is a place to speak freely and disagree but not take it personally.
Lately I have been reading about Charles Spurgeon, the great English preacher of the 19th century. Man, that guy was amazing. He began preaching at the age of 17 and was called to an urban church in London at 19. They were so amazed at his ability to speak and his maturity on matters of life that the congregation offered him the position after hearing him preach only once. The church could seat 1200 but only 80 were present that day. No matter since in a year there 5000 associated with the church due to Spurgeon's preaching. I wish I could say there were similarities between us.
I began preaching at 20 and have yet to have the following he has had. One similarity that is quite humorous is the fact that after his home was broken into the Spurgeons got a dog. Mind you it was not a watch dog but a small dog of the Pug variety. We also have a Pug, his name is Buddy, and he thinks he owns the road in front of our house. Whenever a snowmobiler, a car, a truck or even a pedestrian goes by he erupts in a fit of barking. If that same person were to come in to our house Buddy with greet them with a sniff and the anticipation of getting to sit on their laps. Wonder if Spurgeon had the same experience.
Okay I knew at 15 that the LORD was calling me to be a pastor. So that might be another similarity. Spurgeon was known for his simple telling of the gospel, taking complex theological issues and speaking so that anyone could understand. I am not complex. Some have even said I am not dynamic (though I have no idea what that means) or that I am boring (thanks Syl). So be it. God has taken me, called me, given me this work to do and who I am to oppose his plan.
What are your experiences in ministry? How has Spurgeon been an inspiration to you? Is anybody out there?
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