Zach has often told me that whenever he has the chance to preach his first sermon, it will most certainly be entitled, "Jesus Is Not My Home-Dawg." Why, you ask? He wants to focus on the fact that modern evangelicalism often tries to make Jesus cool, hip, or trendy, when in reality he was just the opposite. He never made it a point to maintain a good reputation with the high-falutin, the wealthy, or the influential; rather, he spent time with the prostitutes, the poor, the lame, the weak, and the outcasts of society. In short, Jesus was REAL in every imaginable sense -- no facades, no ploys for status, no attempts to be "cool" or "popular" in his culture.
In light of that, we were thinking last night about how fitting and pertinent it is that Jesus came as a tiny baby into our world. Admittedly, we often sing Christmas carols like "Silent Night" and picture a serene, pastoral scene with the new family smiling happily as little baby Jesus coos peacefully in his warm, snug blanket. Yet how different must this event have been! They were in a dirty stable surrounded by filthy animals; Mary was probably exhausted from traveling, being turned away from the inn, and giving birth completely naturally; Joseph probably still had blood on his hands from the messy delivery and could have been feeling unsure about his relationship with the new boy, considering he wasn't his own; and I assume Jesus was doing his fair share of crying and screaming. In essence, that manger scene that we peacefully portray in nativity scenes probably wasn't quite as glamorous as we would like to think, and yet the realness -- and the rawness -- of it is a reflection of Jesus' true character from the very beginning of his existence in this world.
As we prepare for the birth of our first little baby, we realize that while babies are certainly adorable and are a complete joy to a family, they are neither easy nor predictable. They scream, they poop, they cry, they spit up, they pee, and they are ultimately completely reliant on their parents for EVERY need to be met. Attempts to always keep the house clean, to always stick to a specific schedule, or to always have them under control are fruitless. While that (in some ways) goes against my type-A nature, it is also very enticing on many levels because it reminds me of Jesus. I think Jesus likes the messiness and disorder of our lives because it is in that place that He feels most welcome. When we think we have everything under control, we have no need for Him to come in and be our peace, our order, or our joy.
Jesus, may you allow us to learn to let go of the need for perfection in our lives and to continually invite you into even the rawest, messiest details, knowing that you take great joy in knowing us intimately.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
A New Spin on Mary
Each Christmas, I ask the Lord to give me a "fresh" perspective on the Christmas story because it can become such a repetitive, rattle-it-off-without-thinking part of the whole Christmas experience. Each year, though, God answers this prayer in a new way, and this year is no different. I have been spending much time of late thinking about the attitude and character of Mary because I am now in her shoes for the very first time -- young and pregnant. (Yes, in case you didn't know, Zach and I found out last week that we are expecting our first little baby in August. We are absolutely THRILLED. :)
I have read Luke 1:26-38 several times over the past few days and have marveled at Mary's grace and composure in an admittedly harrowing situation. Mary's status as a "virgin" is continually repeated throughout this passage ("a virgin pledged to be married" [vs. 27]; "I am a virgin" [vs. 34]; and "the virgin's name..." [vs. 27]), and yet still she is going to give birth to a son who will be called the Son of God (without any help from her fiance, Joseph). Can we talk about some shocking news? I still remember vividly the moment that Zach and I walked into our bathroom to find out the results of the pregnancy test I had just taken. Hearts pounding, hand sweating, minds racing, we only had to glance down briefly to notice the prominent plus sign glaring back at us. That moment was unlike anything I had ever experienced -- though not necessarily in a bad way -- because you realize that the entire course of your life will be changed forever. Forever! Even in our moment of shock, though, there were absolute tears of joy; for though we are young, we both feel absolute peace about welcoming a new member or family; and though the news will change our employment situation (and maybe location), we know God has opened the womb for such a time as this.
That in itself is the prominent difference between Mary and I. While Zach and I were thrilled by our news, I can't imagine Mary was initially ecstatic about the angel's announcement. She was probably thinking about how she would tell or explain the news to Joseph, whether he would still love her, what her family might think, how she would be looked at in society, why it was happening to her, how she was going to raise and care for the Son of God, and so on, and so on, and so on. I can only imagine that her mind was racing with fears and questions and quandaries.
And yet despite the circumstances, we must look at the nature of her speech in the passage. She first asks, "How will this be, since I am a virgin?" and finishes the story by peacefully stating, "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me as you have said." Talk about the peace of God which transcends all understanding! Her response here is nothing short of incredible as she gracefully gives the situation back to the Lord without angry questioning or a confused demand to "know all." She is content in His will, even when she does not necessarily understand His purposes behind it.
Shortly after this passage, we read "Mary's Song" which further exemplifies her absolute peace and trust in a potentially treacherous situation. May her song also be ours during this Christmas season:
"My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me -- holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation... He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, even as he said to our fathers." -Luke 1:46-55
I have read Luke 1:26-38 several times over the past few days and have marveled at Mary's grace and composure in an admittedly harrowing situation. Mary's status as a "virgin" is continually repeated throughout this passage ("a virgin pledged to be married" [vs. 27]; "I am a virgin" [vs. 34]; and "the virgin's name..." [vs. 27]), and yet still she is going to give birth to a son who will be called the Son of God (without any help from her fiance, Joseph). Can we talk about some shocking news? I still remember vividly the moment that Zach and I walked into our bathroom to find out the results of the pregnancy test I had just taken. Hearts pounding, hand sweating, minds racing, we only had to glance down briefly to notice the prominent plus sign glaring back at us. That moment was unlike anything I had ever experienced -- though not necessarily in a bad way -- because you realize that the entire course of your life will be changed forever. Forever! Even in our moment of shock, though, there were absolute tears of joy; for though we are young, we both feel absolute peace about welcoming a new member or family; and though the news will change our employment situation (and maybe location), we know God has opened the womb for such a time as this.
That in itself is the prominent difference between Mary and I. While Zach and I were thrilled by our news, I can't imagine Mary was initially ecstatic about the angel's announcement. She was probably thinking about how she would tell or explain the news to Joseph, whether he would still love her, what her family might think, how she would be looked at in society, why it was happening to her, how she was going to raise and care for the Son of God, and so on, and so on, and so on. I can only imagine that her mind was racing with fears and questions and quandaries.
And yet despite the circumstances, we must look at the nature of her speech in the passage. She first asks, "How will this be, since I am a virgin?" and finishes the story by peacefully stating, "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me as you have said." Talk about the peace of God which transcends all understanding! Her response here is nothing short of incredible as she gracefully gives the situation back to the Lord without angry questioning or a confused demand to "know all." She is content in His will, even when she does not necessarily understand His purposes behind it.
Shortly after this passage, we read "Mary's Song" which further exemplifies her absolute peace and trust in a potentially treacherous situation. May her song also be ours during this Christmas season:
"My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me -- holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation... He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, even as he said to our fathers." -Luke 1:46-55
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
The Epic of Gilgamesh
My sophomores are studying ancient Eastern literature, and over the past few days we have read and discussed the Epic of Gilgamesh. If you're not familiar with it, it is one of the oldest pieces of literature that is still around today and was written shortly after the Flood in the Mesopotamian land of Sumer. Although it's a long and somewhat fragmentary work, we studied small sections of it and particularly focused in on its portrayal of the "Sumerian Flood Story."
In the Epic of Gilgamesh, a huge flood comes and destroys the whole world, but there is one man (and his family) who are able to survive. This man is named Upnatishtim (though we just called him Tim in class :). After the flood waters pass, he sends out a bird from the huge boat he has been living on and, upon disembarking, offers sacrifices to his gods. Sound familiar?
It should sound quite similar to the story of Noah in Genesis, though there are a few key differences. First, the length of the floods are a bit different, and the purpose of the two floods are also dissimilar; whereas God sent the Biblical flood to destroy corrupted mankind, the Sumerian gods simply sent this flood because they were bored. Despite these seemingly minor constrasts, however, the truth remains that there are still quite a few similarities between the two tales. My question, then, was this: Does this undermine or endanger our Christian faith in any way?
Such a discussion brought me back to my first semester at Wheaton in the fall of 2005. When I was in high school, I definitely knew the Lord and felt like I really was walking with Him daily. My faith -- even then -- was my own, and not only that of my parents. When I entered Wheaton that fall, I expected that all of my Bible classes would only contirbute to strengthening my faith in this sort of feel-good sermon/ church camp way, but that was NOT the case my first semester. Every Tuesday and Thursday at 11:15, my faith was tested -- and often broken -- by my Old Testament Archaeology class. Our professor, Dr. Master, wasn't necessarily seeking to destroy our faith, but he was certainly throwing out some difficult questions: "If you believe in the fall of Jericho, why aren't there any archaeological remains that prove that it actually happened?" or "If you believe in the Creation narrative in Genesis, why do you take that as truth over the Enuma Elish, the Babylonian Creation narrative that was written about the same time? Couldn't the writer of Genesis have simply made up his own story using the Enuma Elish as his primary source?" Tough questions. Questions that I had never even considered answering before. Questions that were slowly breaking my faith and causing me to question the very foundation of my belief system.
I was essentially asking my sophomores a similar question today, though I (hopefully) wasn't quite as "no-nonsense" about it as my archaeology professor was. It actually didn't seem to bother most of them, and to be honest, it probably would not have bothered me that much when I was 15, either. What I was thankful for, though, was that hearing those questions asked over again didn't phase me this time around. After truly wrestling with the Lord that first semester, I finally came to terms with the fact that our religion is called the "Christian FAITH" for a reason -- that is, it requires much faith to believe! We will never have every answer, and not every detail of history or of the Bible will ever be completely reconciled. The beauty of it, though, is that it doesn't have to be for our faith to continue.
While I am thankful that period of doubt in my life is over, I never want to stop being fascinated by the mystery of who God is. My prayer is that I will not be frustrated by what I don't know, yet I will also not be satisfied with what I already DO know. May we all seek to continually understand the complexity and mystery of our great Savior.
In the Epic of Gilgamesh, a huge flood comes and destroys the whole world, but there is one man (and his family) who are able to survive. This man is named Upnatishtim (though we just called him Tim in class :). After the flood waters pass, he sends out a bird from the huge boat he has been living on and, upon disembarking, offers sacrifices to his gods. Sound familiar?
It should sound quite similar to the story of Noah in Genesis, though there are a few key differences. First, the length of the floods are a bit different, and the purpose of the two floods are also dissimilar; whereas God sent the Biblical flood to destroy corrupted mankind, the Sumerian gods simply sent this flood because they were bored. Despite these seemingly minor constrasts, however, the truth remains that there are still quite a few similarities between the two tales. My question, then, was this: Does this undermine or endanger our Christian faith in any way?
Such a discussion brought me back to my first semester at Wheaton in the fall of 2005. When I was in high school, I definitely knew the Lord and felt like I really was walking with Him daily. My faith -- even then -- was my own, and not only that of my parents. When I entered Wheaton that fall, I expected that all of my Bible classes would only contirbute to strengthening my faith in this sort of feel-good sermon/ church camp way, but that was NOT the case my first semester. Every Tuesday and Thursday at 11:15, my faith was tested -- and often broken -- by my Old Testament Archaeology class. Our professor, Dr. Master, wasn't necessarily seeking to destroy our faith, but he was certainly throwing out some difficult questions: "If you believe in the fall of Jericho, why aren't there any archaeological remains that prove that it actually happened?" or "If you believe in the Creation narrative in Genesis, why do you take that as truth over the Enuma Elish, the Babylonian Creation narrative that was written about the same time? Couldn't the writer of Genesis have simply made up his own story using the Enuma Elish as his primary source?" Tough questions. Questions that I had never even considered answering before. Questions that were slowly breaking my faith and causing me to question the very foundation of my belief system.
I was essentially asking my sophomores a similar question today, though I (hopefully) wasn't quite as "no-nonsense" about it as my archaeology professor was. It actually didn't seem to bother most of them, and to be honest, it probably would not have bothered me that much when I was 15, either. What I was thankful for, though, was that hearing those questions asked over again didn't phase me this time around. After truly wrestling with the Lord that first semester, I finally came to terms with the fact that our religion is called the "Christian FAITH" for a reason -- that is, it requires much faith to believe! We will never have every answer, and not every detail of history or of the Bible will ever be completely reconciled. The beauty of it, though, is that it doesn't have to be for our faith to continue.
While I am thankful that period of doubt in my life is over, I never want to stop being fascinated by the mystery of who God is. My prayer is that I will not be frustrated by what I don't know, yet I will also not be satisfied with what I already DO know. May we all seek to continually understand the complexity and mystery of our great Savior.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Thankfulness
Whenever we think about the Thanksgiving holiday, we always go back to the Pilgrims and Indians a few hundred years ago and the feast that they celebrated together after the harvest. Interestingly enough, however, their idea for a Thanksgiving feast is actual a Biblical idea that dates back thousands of years. The Israelites were commanded to celebrate the Feast of Tabernacles in Leviticus 23, and the purpose of this was to "memorialize the journey from Egypt to Canaan" and "to give thanks for the productivity of Canaan." Many historians claim that the Pilgrims actually based their idea for a Thanksgiving celebration on this Biblical festival, and I would have to agree. Even in the midst of over-commercialized "Hallmark Holidays," we must remember that many of our modern holidays actual have very Biblical roots: Christmas celebrates the birth of Christ; Thanksgiving is a modern take on the Feast of Tabernacles; Easter celebrates Christ's resurrection; Valentine's Day was originally based on St. Valentine, an early Christian martyr; and even Mother's Day and Father's Day are loosely based on the fifth commandment ("Honor thy father and thy mother." The term "holiday" itself is also a derivation of the original term "Holy Day." So although it is fun to eat a huge meal, gather with family and friends, and watch the Dallas Cowboys play football on Thanksgiving Day, it's also important to set aside this day as a sacred celebration of the goodness of God.
I have plenty to be thankful for every year, but with all of the changes that have happened in my life this year, this Thanksgiving is particularly meaningful. Here are some of the things I'm thankful for this year:
1. My incredible husband of (almost) four months. It's crazy to think that last year at this time we weren't even engaged -- sure, we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, but no official plans had been made. When I think back to our relationship a year ago, we were obviously already very much in love, and we had already had a fair share of fights/difficult situations that we had been able to work through together. But oh, the distance we have traveled in just one year! Not only have we had more ups and downs that come with any relationship during the past year, but we have also gotten married, moved across the country, and started new jobs together. Many told us that such huge changes right after our marriage would break us down and make our first year of marriage incredibly difficult, but we can testify that God is faithful and He has made all of these transitions incredibly easy for us and for our relationship. I have also seen my husband grow so much over this last year in his faith, in his role as a Biblical leader, in his maturity and confidence, and in his ability to love me well. Our goal has always been to be deeper in love each year, and I can absolutely say that our love has deepened since last Thanksgiving. And for this I am thankful.
2. My family -- Dad, Mom, Whit, Shawn, Dad Bohler, Mom Bohler, Alix, Luc, and Marc. Although the distance between us can be tough at times as we're spread over thousands of miles and three different time zones, Zach and I are so blessed to have a family who not only loves us unconditionally, but also has supported us through every step of our journey to Oregon, even when I know that (selfishly) they wish we could have found jobs in the Southeast somewhere. :) We will miss being with all of them for this Thanksgiving -- the first one that either of us has ever been apart from our families -- but we know that it will make our Christmas visit even better. We love you guys.
3. Our new friends and jobs in Oregon. Zach and I definitely took an extreme leap of faith in our decision to move to Oregon. We left the comfort of Chicago where we felt "at home" and knew tons of people to move to a tiny town in a state two thousand miles away to take jobs that we knew, without a doubt, would stretch us. Then throw in the fact that we had been married for 11 days when we made the cross-country trek; in some ways, it could have been a recipe for disaster. I remember us even talking about it on our honeymoon, thinking aloud, "Um.. babe... what if we get there and just really don't like it at all? What are we supposed to do then?" We didn't have the answer to that question then, and thankfully, we don't need it now. We are loving our experience here and have been so embraced by the Roseburg, UVC, and Wellspring (our church) community. It hasn't been without obstacles or difficulties, but after three months in our current positions, we are prepared to be here for as long as the Lord allows.
I could list so many specific instances of God's faithfulness throughout this year, or the names of our many friends scattered across the country, or the many prayers that He has answered in our lives this year -- but suffice to say, I am incredibly thankful this year. Thank you, Lord, for your many blessings in our lives.
"Give thanks to the Lord; call upon his name. Make known among the nations what HE has done!" - Psalm 102:1
I have plenty to be thankful for every year, but with all of the changes that have happened in my life this year, this Thanksgiving is particularly meaningful. Here are some of the things I'm thankful for this year:
1. My incredible husband of (almost) four months. It's crazy to think that last year at this time we weren't even engaged -- sure, we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, but no official plans had been made. When I think back to our relationship a year ago, we were obviously already very much in love, and we had already had a fair share of fights/difficult situations that we had been able to work through together. But oh, the distance we have traveled in just one year! Not only have we had more ups and downs that come with any relationship during the past year, but we have also gotten married, moved across the country, and started new jobs together. Many told us that such huge changes right after our marriage would break us down and make our first year of marriage incredibly difficult, but we can testify that God is faithful and He has made all of these transitions incredibly easy for us and for our relationship. I have also seen my husband grow so much over this last year in his faith, in his role as a Biblical leader, in his maturity and confidence, and in his ability to love me well. Our goal has always been to be deeper in love each year, and I can absolutely say that our love has deepened since last Thanksgiving. And for this I am thankful.
2. My family -- Dad, Mom, Whit, Shawn, Dad Bohler, Mom Bohler, Alix, Luc, and Marc. Although the distance between us can be tough at times as we're spread over thousands of miles and three different time zones, Zach and I are so blessed to have a family who not only loves us unconditionally, but also has supported us through every step of our journey to Oregon, even when I know that (selfishly) they wish we could have found jobs in the Southeast somewhere. :) We will miss being with all of them for this Thanksgiving -- the first one that either of us has ever been apart from our families -- but we know that it will make our Christmas visit even better. We love you guys.
3. Our new friends and jobs in Oregon. Zach and I definitely took an extreme leap of faith in our decision to move to Oregon. We left the comfort of Chicago where we felt "at home" and knew tons of people to move to a tiny town in a state two thousand miles away to take jobs that we knew, without a doubt, would stretch us. Then throw in the fact that we had been married for 11 days when we made the cross-country trek; in some ways, it could have been a recipe for disaster. I remember us even talking about it on our honeymoon, thinking aloud, "Um.. babe... what if we get there and just really don't like it at all? What are we supposed to do then?" We didn't have the answer to that question then, and thankfully, we don't need it now. We are loving our experience here and have been so embraced by the Roseburg, UVC, and Wellspring (our church) community. It hasn't been without obstacles or difficulties, but after three months in our current positions, we are prepared to be here for as long as the Lord allows.
I could list so many specific instances of God's faithfulness throughout this year, or the names of our many friends scattered across the country, or the many prayers that He has answered in our lives this year -- but suffice to say, I am incredibly thankful this year. Thank you, Lord, for your many blessings in our lives.
"Give thanks to the Lord; call upon his name. Make known among the nations what HE has done!" - Psalm 102:1
Thursday, November 19, 2009
An Intimate God
In my sophomore English class, we are beginning a unit on Ancient Eastern Literature, and I am including a short study of the book of Job and the book of Ruth. Today we read Job 38 and 42 in class, and I was struck by some new ideas that were brought up in class. Usually when one thinks about the book of Job, the first thought that comes to mind is the old cliché Sunday School discussion of “Why do bad things happen to good people?” While I have some opinions on that question – primarily pertaining to the fact that “good people” really don’t exist – that was not the basis of our discussion today.
In Job 38, God is responding to Job and his friends’ conversations by pointing out His sovereignty and omnipotence as God over every situation: “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone – while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?” (38:4-7). Interestingly, He responds to their questions with more questions of his own – rhetorical questions that point out His power in a more indirect way. Two things strike me about God’s language here. First, while I may owe this fact primarily to the translation, it seems that God is almost sarcastic in this passage. The “Tell me, if you understand” and “Surely you know!” comments certainly have an edge to them and imply that He might be subtly mocking Job. The word “mock,” however, may be a bit strong, for I don’t think God’s tone here is necessarily a bad thing. If anything, it’s almost humorous that God would choose to address Job in such a “human” manner.
God’s use of rhetorical questions here also seems to be quite effective for His purpose, because He is clearly able to get His point across to Job without coming off as a distant, theistic, vengeful, power-hungry God of wrath. He could have just told Job he was a fool and then gave His own resume of powers and accomplishments, but instead He allowed Job to draw these conclusions himself. Job obviously recognized his own limitations through God’s questions, but God didn’t beat him into that place of humility with a clear-cut tirade on Job’s foolishness. He allowed Job to learn his place as a mortal in a more indirect way.
Although I’ve read these passages many times, something new about them struck me today, and it’s been on my mind ever since. It seems that a God as powerful as the One presented in Job 38 could never be interested in the mere comings and goings of man, much less in the life of one particular individual. And yet in chapter 42, we see that God deals personally with Job’s situation and blesses him specifically according to what he had lost in his earlier trials of chapters 1 and 2. We serve such a personal God! For while He holds the storehouses of hail in his hands, gives orders to the morning, and brings out constellations in their due time, He also cares individually for each human he has created, knowing the intimate details of each of their lives. What an amazing thought.
That idea reminded me of Psalm 139, which begins “O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar…” (Psalm 139:1). It’s interesting that this first verb is in the past tense (“have searched”), implying that God already knows David in an intimate way. The descriptions following that opening verse, however, all pertain to David’s physical and tangible life – where he goes, the words on his tongue, the things that he does on a daily basis, etc.
Interestingly, at the end of this psalm David lifts up this final prayer: “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23-24). Why does David ask God to search him here, even though he has earlier stated that the Lord “has searched” him already (vs. 1)? I think the answer pertains to how David wants the Lord to search him. In this final verse, David doesn’t want the Lord to stop at his mere physical existence – where he goes, the things he says, etc. – but he wants God to search him from the inside out. “Know my heart,” he prays. Know the very inner fiber of my being. Know me intimately.
It’s an amazing truth that we have a sort of God that will do this very thing; He will search us and know us intimately when we draw near to Him. Although He might be able to command the seas, mark off the dimension of the universe, and scatter lightning in the sky, He also eagerly invites us into His very presence and is called Emmanuel, God with us. I can only respond to such a truth as Job did: “Surely I speak of things I do not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. My ears had heard you, but now my eyes have seen you” (Job 42: 4,6).
In Job 38, God is responding to Job and his friends’ conversations by pointing out His sovereignty and omnipotence as God over every situation: “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone – while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?” (38:4-7). Interestingly, He responds to their questions with more questions of his own – rhetorical questions that point out His power in a more indirect way. Two things strike me about God’s language here. First, while I may owe this fact primarily to the translation, it seems that God is almost sarcastic in this passage. The “Tell me, if you understand” and “Surely you know!” comments certainly have an edge to them and imply that He might be subtly mocking Job. The word “mock,” however, may be a bit strong, for I don’t think God’s tone here is necessarily a bad thing. If anything, it’s almost humorous that God would choose to address Job in such a “human” manner.
God’s use of rhetorical questions here also seems to be quite effective for His purpose, because He is clearly able to get His point across to Job without coming off as a distant, theistic, vengeful, power-hungry God of wrath. He could have just told Job he was a fool and then gave His own resume of powers and accomplishments, but instead He allowed Job to draw these conclusions himself. Job obviously recognized his own limitations through God’s questions, but God didn’t beat him into that place of humility with a clear-cut tirade on Job’s foolishness. He allowed Job to learn his place as a mortal in a more indirect way.
Although I’ve read these passages many times, something new about them struck me today, and it’s been on my mind ever since. It seems that a God as powerful as the One presented in Job 38 could never be interested in the mere comings and goings of man, much less in the life of one particular individual. And yet in chapter 42, we see that God deals personally with Job’s situation and blesses him specifically according to what he had lost in his earlier trials of chapters 1 and 2. We serve such a personal God! For while He holds the storehouses of hail in his hands, gives orders to the morning, and brings out constellations in their due time, He also cares individually for each human he has created, knowing the intimate details of each of their lives. What an amazing thought.
That idea reminded me of Psalm 139, which begins “O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar…” (Psalm 139:1). It’s interesting that this first verb is in the past tense (“have searched”), implying that God already knows David in an intimate way. The descriptions following that opening verse, however, all pertain to David’s physical and tangible life – where he goes, the words on his tongue, the things that he does on a daily basis, etc.
Interestingly, at the end of this psalm David lifts up this final prayer: “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23-24). Why does David ask God to search him here, even though he has earlier stated that the Lord “has searched” him already (vs. 1)? I think the answer pertains to how David wants the Lord to search him. In this final verse, David doesn’t want the Lord to stop at his mere physical existence – where he goes, the things he says, etc. – but he wants God to search him from the inside out. “Know my heart,” he prays. Know the very inner fiber of my being. Know me intimately.
It’s an amazing truth that we have a sort of God that will do this very thing; He will search us and know us intimately when we draw near to Him. Although He might be able to command the seas, mark off the dimension of the universe, and scatter lightning in the sky, He also eagerly invites us into His very presence and is called Emmanuel, God with us. I can only respond to such a truth as Job did: “Surely I speak of things I do not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. My ears had heard you, but now my eyes have seen you” (Job 42: 4,6).
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Ekklesia
Zach and I are very thankful that we have settled down at a church here in Roseburg because the "church shopping" process can be such a draining one. We've thought a lot about the church together, specifically pondering what its true role in our culture needs to be and how it can achieve that goal in the most Biblical manner. Admittedly, I do sometimes go to church "with my red pen" -- that is, I am a little too critical of each and every detail of the service -- and yet on some level such critical thinking is necessary. Here are some of the questions I've been pondering over the last few weeks:
1. Throughout the Old Testament, particularly in Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles, it seems that a common theme is that worship MUST be costly. In 1 Kings 13, the kingdom had just split between Israel and Judah, and Jeroboam (the newly crowned king of the northern kingdom) was feeling a bit insecure about his new position. Because the primary temple was in Jerusalem (which was in the newly-formed "southern" kingdom), Jeroboam feared that his people would visit Jerusalem and revert their allegiance back to Rehoboam, the southern king. Because of this, he built shrines at Bethel and Dan (which were both part of his northern kingdom) so that people would not have to journey SO far to Jerusalem just to worship. Not only does this action show his own fear and insecurity, but it also relates directly to the idea that worship should always cost us something. The people of Israel began to worship at Bethel and Dan simply because it was closer to home and more conveniently located for their purposes. It should be an honor and privilege to enter into the presence of the Most High God, and if we choose a church based on how close it is to home, how short the sermon is, or how good it makes us feel, we have missed the whole point.
The idea of sacrificial worship, however, extends so much much deeper than mere personal convenience. Once we enter into the presence of God for worship, we should not be surprised if He asks us to sacrifice something -- or everything: "Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God -- this is your spiritual act of worship" (Romans 12:1-2). Worship here is defined as sacrifice, and so often true worship does require us to make ourselves nothing so that Christ might increase in us (John 3:30). Notice, however, that it is a "living" sacrifice that we are required to make. To understand the meaning of "living sacrifice," we have to look no farther than the story of Abraham and Isaac, for Isaac represented the quintessential "living sacrifice" -- not only was he literally living, but he also represented for Abraham the future of his family line and the fulfillment of God's promise. Being willing to sacrifice Isaac on that altar was a truly meaningful sacrifice because his death would have cost Abraham so much. In the same way, God requires that we be willing to sacrifice anything and everything that He requires, even if we do not understand why we must or how He will work through the situation after we do.
To be continued....
1. Throughout the Old Testament, particularly in Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles, it seems that a common theme is that worship MUST be costly. In 1 Kings 13, the kingdom had just split between Israel and Judah, and Jeroboam (the newly crowned king of the northern kingdom) was feeling a bit insecure about his new position. Because the primary temple was in Jerusalem (which was in the newly-formed "southern" kingdom), Jeroboam feared that his people would visit Jerusalem and revert their allegiance back to Rehoboam, the southern king. Because of this, he built shrines at Bethel and Dan (which were both part of his northern kingdom) so that people would not have to journey SO far to Jerusalem just to worship. Not only does this action show his own fear and insecurity, but it also relates directly to the idea that worship should always cost us something. The people of Israel began to worship at Bethel and Dan simply because it was closer to home and more conveniently located for their purposes. It should be an honor and privilege to enter into the presence of the Most High God, and if we choose a church based on how close it is to home, how short the sermon is, or how good it makes us feel, we have missed the whole point.
The idea of sacrificial worship, however, extends so much much deeper than mere personal convenience. Once we enter into the presence of God for worship, we should not be surprised if He asks us to sacrifice something -- or everything: "Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God -- this is your spiritual act of worship" (Romans 12:1-2). Worship here is defined as sacrifice, and so often true worship does require us to make ourselves nothing so that Christ might increase in us (John 3:30). Notice, however, that it is a "living" sacrifice that we are required to make. To understand the meaning of "living sacrifice," we have to look no farther than the story of Abraham and Isaac, for Isaac represented the quintessential "living sacrifice" -- not only was he literally living, but he also represented for Abraham the future of his family line and the fulfillment of God's promise. Being willing to sacrifice Isaac on that altar was a truly meaningful sacrifice because his death would have cost Abraham so much. In the same way, God requires that we be willing to sacrifice anything and everything that He requires, even if we do not understand why we must or how He will work through the situation after we do.
To be continued....
Thursday, November 12, 2009
David, the True Worshipper
As my students (and friends) will attest, I am fascinated by the character of David more than any other Biblical personage. When one initially thinks of David, the epithet "a man after God's own heart" often comes to mind, and this fact interests me. This particular description of David is only coined once in Acts 13:22 ("I have found David, son of Jesse, a man after my own heart, who will do all my will") and is based on the passage in 1 Samuel 13 where Samuel is condemning Saul for his incomplete obedience to God's command regarding the Philistines. While this description of David is clearly true, David's role as this "man after God's heart" has a plethora of complex layers that are often glossed over in this five-word description -- that is, while David does seek after the heart of God, he does not always do it in a perfect way.
At his core, I believe David was one of the most "human" characters that the BIble describes. He was a murderer, an adulterer, a fugitive, a far-from-perfect father -- and yet still wrote songs like "Better is one day in your courts than thousands elsewhere" (Psalm 84:10) and "Because your love is better than life, I will glorify you" (Psalm 63:3). He clearly had a deep love for his Father and maintained an intimate relationship with Him until the end of his life.
When I say that I am fascinated with the character of David, I admit that I am both inspired and (at times) confused by him. My biggest conundrum with David concerns his obedience to and/or love for the law of God. On the one hand, he praises the law profusely throughout the Psalms: "Give me understanding, and I will keep your law and obey it will all my heart" (Psalm 119:33); "Your statues are wonderful; therefore I obey them" (Psalm 119:129); and "Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked... but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night (Psalm 1:1-2). It is clear that David is intentional about meditating on and obeying the laws of God through his writings, but, at times, his actions seem to speak differently.
For example, look at the story of David at Nob. David and his men were exhausted from battle, and David asked Ahimelech the priest if any food was on hand. Ahimelech admitted that there was no ordinary bread on hand, but "only consecretaed bread" -- bread intended only for the priests themselves (Leviticus 24:18). David, however, skimmed over this seemingly meaningless rule and doled out the loaves to all of his men to keep them going.
Another somewhat perplexing instance of David's seeming "disobedience" to God's law is in 2 Chronicles 8 when Solomon considers a move into David's old palace. He makes this fascinating statement before deciding to move in: "My wife must not live in the palace of David king of Israel, because the places the ark of the Lord has entered are holy" (2 Chronicles 8:11). Wait a second. Is Solomon implying there that David kept the Ark of the Covenant in his very bed chamber? Wasn't Aaron only allowed to enter the Most Holy Place and minister at the Ark of the Covenant once a year on Atonement Day (Leviticus 18)? How, then, does David have the right to keep this intensely holy object (the very presence of God!) in his own home? It is admittedly perplexing.
Perhaps these small instances of apparent disregard to God's laws would not be so confusing if other Biblical character seemed to have the same freedoms, but this rarely (if ever) seems to be the case. Consider Uzzah in 2 Samuel 6 as an example. When he and his brother Ahio were guiding the ark of God toward Jerusalem, the oxen stumbled and "Uzzah reached out and took hold of the ark of God... The Lord's anger burned against Uzzah because of his irreverent act. Therefore, God struck him down and he died there beside the ark of God" (2 Samuel 6:6-7). In this instance, God seems awfully strict about showing extreme reverence for the ark. Or what about Achan in Joshua 7? He hoarded one beautiful robe, two hundred shekels of silver, and a wedge of gold in his tent, and for this he was stoned him publicly. Again, God seems incredibly serious about following His laws wholeheartedly.
While I have no clear reconciliation for these examples, I have a suspicion that David's justification for his actions comes through the intentions and motivations of his heart: "The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7). Obviously God knew David intimately and had plenty of reasons for sparing him when he seemed to break Israelite law, and I love seeing this facet of God's character even in the Old Testament. I think we often see the "Old Testament" God as one of anger, wrath, and vengeance, but in reality, we have no "Old Testament" or "New Testament" God -- we have ONE God, YHWH, and his character does not change.
Even in the confusion of these passages, I think we can also see a very valid lesson in God's call on our lives to obedience rather than sacrifice: "Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the voice of the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams" (1 Samuel 15:22) God wants US -- our hearts, our time, our love, and our obedience -- and not our weekly trips to church, our 30 minute quiet time, or our Bible study groups. May we give him our EVERYTHING and not just seek to live the good "Christian" life based on the world's standards.
At his core, I believe David was one of the most "human" characters that the BIble describes. He was a murderer, an adulterer, a fugitive, a far-from-perfect father -- and yet still wrote songs like "Better is one day in your courts than thousands elsewhere" (Psalm 84:10) and "Because your love is better than life, I will glorify you" (Psalm 63:3). He clearly had a deep love for his Father and maintained an intimate relationship with Him until the end of his life.
When I say that I am fascinated with the character of David, I admit that I am both inspired and (at times) confused by him. My biggest conundrum with David concerns his obedience to and/or love for the law of God. On the one hand, he praises the law profusely throughout the Psalms: "Give me understanding, and I will keep your law and obey it will all my heart" (Psalm 119:33); "Your statues are wonderful; therefore I obey them" (Psalm 119:129); and "Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked... but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night (Psalm 1:1-2). It is clear that David is intentional about meditating on and obeying the laws of God through his writings, but, at times, his actions seem to speak differently.
For example, look at the story of David at Nob. David and his men were exhausted from battle, and David asked Ahimelech the priest if any food was on hand. Ahimelech admitted that there was no ordinary bread on hand, but "only consecretaed bread" -- bread intended only for the priests themselves (Leviticus 24:18). David, however, skimmed over this seemingly meaningless rule and doled out the loaves to all of his men to keep them going.
Another somewhat perplexing instance of David's seeming "disobedience" to God's law is in 2 Chronicles 8 when Solomon considers a move into David's old palace. He makes this fascinating statement before deciding to move in: "My wife must not live in the palace of David king of Israel, because the places the ark of the Lord has entered are holy" (2 Chronicles 8:11). Wait a second. Is Solomon implying there that David kept the Ark of the Covenant in his very bed chamber? Wasn't Aaron only allowed to enter the Most Holy Place and minister at the Ark of the Covenant once a year on Atonement Day (Leviticus 18)? How, then, does David have the right to keep this intensely holy object (the very presence of God!) in his own home? It is admittedly perplexing.
Perhaps these small instances of apparent disregard to God's laws would not be so confusing if other Biblical character seemed to have the same freedoms, but this rarely (if ever) seems to be the case. Consider Uzzah in 2 Samuel 6 as an example. When he and his brother Ahio were guiding the ark of God toward Jerusalem, the oxen stumbled and "Uzzah reached out and took hold of the ark of God... The Lord's anger burned against Uzzah because of his irreverent act. Therefore, God struck him down and he died there beside the ark of God" (2 Samuel 6:6-7). In this instance, God seems awfully strict about showing extreme reverence for the ark. Or what about Achan in Joshua 7? He hoarded one beautiful robe, two hundred shekels of silver, and a wedge of gold in his tent, and for this he was stoned him publicly. Again, God seems incredibly serious about following His laws wholeheartedly.
While I have no clear reconciliation for these examples, I have a suspicion that David's justification for his actions comes through the intentions and motivations of his heart: "The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7). Obviously God knew David intimately and had plenty of reasons for sparing him when he seemed to break Israelite law, and I love seeing this facet of God's character even in the Old Testament. I think we often see the "Old Testament" God as one of anger, wrath, and vengeance, but in reality, we have no "Old Testament" or "New Testament" God -- we have ONE God, YHWH, and his character does not change.
Even in the confusion of these passages, I think we can also see a very valid lesson in God's call on our lives to obedience rather than sacrifice: "Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the voice of the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams" (1 Samuel 15:22) God wants US -- our hearts, our time, our love, and our obedience -- and not our weekly trips to church, our 30 minute quiet time, or our Bible study groups. May we give him our EVERYTHING and not just seek to live the good "Christian" life based on the world's standards.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Psalm 32
My junior English class is reading The Scarlet Letter, and each day I am amazed at how much spiritual truth is hidden within each chapter. Yesterday we discussed the confession of sins, and whether or not it is always necessary and right to confess one's sin. We looked particularly at 1 John 1:9 ("If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and purify from all unrighteousness") and James 5:16 ("Therefore, confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed"), and determined that the Biblical standard does, indeed, call us to repentance and confession both to God and to each other. In the novel, Reverend Dimmesdale claims that sin should only be confessed when it will not harm one's public image, while his opponent (and ironically, an antagonist of the novel) says that repentance is necessary regardless of image. We determined that the Biblical standard is more correctly upheld by Chillingworth and that as humans, we are incapable of dealing with sin on our own.
We also read Psalm 32 in class (yes, I am learning daily that I am a Bible teacher trapped in an English teacher's body!), and I was struck by the word "covered" in vs. 1 and vs. 5 ("Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, who sins are covered" and "Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity"). Think back to the Garden of Eden in Genesis 1. When Adam and Eve were sinless in the garden, they were naked and shameless. Once they ate the forbidden fruit, however, they had to cover themselves with fig leaves to hide their shame, and ultimately, God himself covered them with animal skins. Even from the beginning, God had to shed blood and sacrifice life in order to cover the sin and shame of the human race.
Now let's think about Jesus. The blood He shed on the cross became the ultimate sacrifice that now clothes His children in garments of salvation ("I delight greatly in the Lord; my soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness" [Isaiah 61:10]) and gives us a literal covering our sins. We can even take Jesus' death a step farther to remember that his literal clothes were ripped from him and were given to bystanders after lots were cast. Not only did his blood symbolically cover our iniquity, but his literal clothes were given out to cover the human race in a physical, tangible way, as well.
Look back at Psalm 32:3-5: "When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night, your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity... and you forgave the guilt of my sin." As humans, we try to sometimes cover up our sins on our own, keeping them a secret from others to maintain a positive image or living in denial that our actions are sinful in the first place. Psalm 32 is clear, however, that such a strategy is impossible for humans -- that is, we will never be able to cover up our sins on our own. There is only ONE who can cover our shame, our nakedness, our guilt, and our deepest insecurities:
Christ, Emmanuel, Bread of Life, Son of God, Savior, Jesus, Anointed One, Hiding Place.
Our God.
As we confess our sins to Him, may He "forgive the guilt of our sin" (Psalm 32:5) and "surround us with songs of deliverance" (Psalm 32:7).
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