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.
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