Sadly, I feel that I end up having to say this at the beginning of many of my posts, but I'm deeply sorry that it has been so long since I have written anything. Life has been out of control. Or more specifically, schoolwork has been out of control. This semester has definitely been the most stressful in that sense than any of my other semesters. If there is ever a chance of me dropping out of school and going back to working at Blockbuster, this is probably when it will happen. But even though things have been busy, they have not been all bad. My good friend Angie flew out from California to hang out with us Midwesterners this last weekend, and that was a ton of fun. We went to a corn maze and made a sweet video that you need to go on facebook and check out. Angie is very cool and good at Wii and is very smart, and she has a blog that you should go check out; there's a link in the Bloggolution bar on the side. Speaking of that, Jessie recently created a blog, so you should check that out too: www.runningthroughmoments.blogspot.com.
Tonight I'm returning to a theme that I know have touched on several times before, but it's an important one, I think, so I will rehash it again now. I've been thinking lately about the various places we seek approval. A lot of people like to come off as an independent renegade, so they say that they don't care a lick about what anyone thinks, but I usually doubt that. We work so hard to make sure that our friends, families, acquaintances, and even random strangers have a positive view of us. We like to be liked, and we turn to the world to receive that approval.
But there's a problem. The world will constantly tell us that we aren't good enough, and we'd better do all we can to pull ourselves up to the level of its acceptance. So we have to change our appearance so we can look like that guy or try to be as smart as that guy or to be as athletic as that guy or to have as much money as that guy, and it goes on and on and on. In effect, we're left to pull ourselves up by our own hair so that we can reach the plateau that the world tells us we need to achieve. But no matter how hard we try and how much we fix ourselves up, we always come up short. There is always some other area in which we need to improve ourselves.
It's similar with God in a small sense, but thankfully, it's much, much different. Like the world, God also tells us that we aren't good enough. We don't live up to the standard that God has set as acceptable. But he says, "You're not good enough. And that's ok. I can make you good." We aren't told to lift ourselves up God's perfect standard. He gives it to us, and he accepts us as we come. He isn't put off by our lack of talent, our asymmetrical features, or our annoying idiosyncrasies. He genuinely likes us and wants to be with us.
One of the dumbest things we do as humans is that we keep chasing after the world's elusive approval instead of God's. It doesn't make sense. We receive our own self-worth from the opinions of others, even though it always fails, and all the while God is saying, "I love you and care about you and accept you as you are!" Why can't we be happy with that? Why do we keep trying to draw water out of a dry well when there is another one overflowing right next to it?
There's a children's picture book called Are You My Mother? In the book, a little baby bird hatches while his mother is gone, so he goes around, asking all sorts of things if they are his mother. He asks a cat and a cow and a dog if they are his mother, but they each say no, so he moves on to asking a boat and a plane and a power shovel. I think we are sort of like the baby bird. It's like each of us is holding our little hearts, and we go through life asking all sorts of different people and things, "Can you guard my heart? Can you protect it and let me know that I'm good enough? Can you satisfy?" But in the end, all of those things fail to do what we ask, because we weren't made for them. As the baby bird is finally united with his mother in the end of the book, we need to turn to God, hand our hearts over to him, and allow him to define us and let us know that we're alright.
Last winter I went on Ozark's Spiritual Formation Retreat. It was really good and helped me get a lot of things on track that I needed to. On the first night of the retreat, one of the professors read Psalm 62 to us, and we just meditated on it a bit. Here's a few select verses from that psalm: "My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken...Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him."
I remember that when I heard this psalm, what stuck out to me most was the repeated use of the word "alone." God alone is enough. God alone is fulfilling. I especially like it in connection with the word "fortress." It makes me think of a castle. A castle is built of a bunch of different stones. If my life is a castle, if my self-worth is a castle, those different stones may be where I draw that worth. So the different stones may be all the different relationships that I depend on to make it through life. Obviously, the biggest stone should be God, but there are other smaller stones for my friends and family and such.
The problem with this castle is that it's unstable. If I build my worth even in part on what other people think of me, I'm sitting on a pretty shaky structure. Granted, I've been blessed with some people in my life that have always been there. But if I establish myself on this friend or that family member or that girl, I'm building on the wrong thing. God alone needs to be my rock and fortress. Even if his stone makes up the majority of the castle, it's not enough. He needs to be the whole thing, because he's the only one who is perfectly sturdy. A castle built on anything else is always in danger of collapsing.
I've written before that contentment can be a difficult thing for me to attain. And I imagine that I'm not the only one. When situations don't work out the way I want them to and when I feel let down by circumstances or by myself, it can be hard to be satisfied knowing that God still has my back. I might feel like I need something else in addition to that, but the truth is that I don't. I'm not totally sure how to deal with that. I guess we just need reminders, and we need each other for encouragement.
It's like kickball. I might be the last kid picked by the world. But I'm chosen by God. And his kickball team generally wins.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
When Church Runs Long
"'Therefore let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.' When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the other apostles, 'Brothers, what shall we do?' Peter replied, 'Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off--for all whom the Lord our God will call.' With many other words he warned them; and he pleaded with them, 'Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.' Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand were added to their number that day."
-Acts 2:36-41
I've been a Christian for a long time. There has never been a time in my life when I was not involved with the church. I went to the little kids' Sunday School classes when I was young and I sang "This Little Light of Mine" and I made plenty of crafts out of popsicle sticks and googly eyes. I went to the camps and CIYs. And now I go to class for 19 hours a week and learn about the Bible and how to best tell people about Jesus. And for as long as I can remember, Sunday mornings means church. Because of that fact, along with my own apathy, church can unfortunately seem very ho-hum. When I wake up on Sunday mornings, my first thought is not, "Man, I can't wait to see what God's going to do at church today!" I expect to go church and sing some songs and listen to a sermon and eat some donuts and then come home. Nothing more. Everything that happens at church is completely expected.
But today I saw something that I've never seen before. For the last several weeks, our preacher has been preaching a series called "The Journey." It's been all about what conversion to Christianity means. The first week was about faith, the second about confession, the third about repentance, and finally, today was about baptism. Of course, the sermon ended with a pretty overt invitation for people to be baptized. There was no time like now, the preacher said. It's what God has commanded us to do, and it's how we begin our lives with him.
I tried to keep count of how many people were baptized, but I lost track around 20. I would guess it ended at about 30-35. Old people were baptized. Young people were baptized. Guys were being baptized and then turning around and baptizing their brothers. An Ozark student was baptized. For I don't know, 40 minutes, people just kept coming up to surrender their lives to Christ. The service went quite a bit longer than is typical. It was insane. I had never seen God get so out-of-control. Or more accurately, I had never seen Christians allow God to be so out-of-control.
In a way, I was sometimes skeptical. I mean, there's a system for these types of things, you know? First you mark on your attendance card that you're interested in becoming a Christian, and then one of the elders comes to your house for coffee, and then you meet with the senior minister, and then you read some stuff, and then you come forward at church and are baptized. You can't just run up into the water because you've heard God speak and want to give yourself to him, can you?
We want to have control over so much of what happens in conversion. And for good reason. We want people to understand what is happening when they're baptized. We don't want them making this decision just because it's the "churchy" thing to do or because their friend did it. I was baptized when I was nine years old, and I think it was too soon. I think I believed in Jesus, but I didn't really understand what it meant to be a Christian, to no longer live for myself but only for him. Yet at the same time, there is incredible value and power in someone simply saying, "I don't know everything about God, and I don't know what the road ahead may hold, but I know that I need Jesus and want to belong to him." It's so beautifully faithful and trusting. It's almost like the type of trust a child would have. And word on the street is that that's what Jesus is looking for.
I've been doing a lot of reading about the history of the church recently. Not so much by choice, but due to the fact that I'm taking Church History Readings this semester. What that means is that instead of going to class, I just do a lot of reading and then take quizzes on the books I read. There's a book due every two weeks, but I'm not much of a fan of staying on top of my responsibilities. So I spent this last Friday and Saturday morning reading 400 pages of history. Fun weekend. But anyways, I read about all these crazy revivals in the life of the church where people would travel from miles just to hear a preacher proclaim the gospel, and then thousands of people who give their lives to Christ. Some of the stories are absolutely nuts. Of course, it's just history. The world has changed since the time of the Great Awakening. People are much more sober and well-educated. They won't get caught up in spiritual excitement. Revivals are dead.
What we forget is that there's still a Spirit that likes to reassemble skeletons' dry bones and breath life in them. That there's a God who is still reconciling creation to himself. That there's a Christ that is supreme over the universe. Sure, these great revivals we read about happened a while back, but the God who initiated them is still working. Maybe the problem is that we're too busy cramping his style. We get so concerned about controlling what happens in the church that we're not listening to the head of the church. We want people to come to our churches, so we only preach practical self-help sermons and put the good news about Jesus' resurrection on the shelf. I hope revivals aren't dead, and I wonder why one can't start in little Carterville, Missouri until it stretches across the entire globe.
None of the people at church made it to the buffets as early as they usually do today. But there was a great deal of rejoicing and celebration among the angels in heaven this morning. And somehow, I think that may be more important that an early lunch.
-Acts 2:36-41
I've been a Christian for a long time. There has never been a time in my life when I was not involved with the church. I went to the little kids' Sunday School classes when I was young and I sang "This Little Light of Mine" and I made plenty of crafts out of popsicle sticks and googly eyes. I went to the camps and CIYs. And now I go to class for 19 hours a week and learn about the Bible and how to best tell people about Jesus. And for as long as I can remember, Sunday mornings means church. Because of that fact, along with my own apathy, church can unfortunately seem very ho-hum. When I wake up on Sunday mornings, my first thought is not, "Man, I can't wait to see what God's going to do at church today!" I expect to go church and sing some songs and listen to a sermon and eat some donuts and then come home. Nothing more. Everything that happens at church is completely expected.
But today I saw something that I've never seen before. For the last several weeks, our preacher has been preaching a series called "The Journey." It's been all about what conversion to Christianity means. The first week was about faith, the second about confession, the third about repentance, and finally, today was about baptism. Of course, the sermon ended with a pretty overt invitation for people to be baptized. There was no time like now, the preacher said. It's what God has commanded us to do, and it's how we begin our lives with him.
I tried to keep count of how many people were baptized, but I lost track around 20. I would guess it ended at about 30-35. Old people were baptized. Young people were baptized. Guys were being baptized and then turning around and baptizing their brothers. An Ozark student was baptized. For I don't know, 40 minutes, people just kept coming up to surrender their lives to Christ. The service went quite a bit longer than is typical. It was insane. I had never seen God get so out-of-control. Or more accurately, I had never seen Christians allow God to be so out-of-control.
In a way, I was sometimes skeptical. I mean, there's a system for these types of things, you know? First you mark on your attendance card that you're interested in becoming a Christian, and then one of the elders comes to your house for coffee, and then you meet with the senior minister, and then you read some stuff, and then you come forward at church and are baptized. You can't just run up into the water because you've heard God speak and want to give yourself to him, can you?
We want to have control over so much of what happens in conversion. And for good reason. We want people to understand what is happening when they're baptized. We don't want them making this decision just because it's the "churchy" thing to do or because their friend did it. I was baptized when I was nine years old, and I think it was too soon. I think I believed in Jesus, but I didn't really understand what it meant to be a Christian, to no longer live for myself but only for him. Yet at the same time, there is incredible value and power in someone simply saying, "I don't know everything about God, and I don't know what the road ahead may hold, but I know that I need Jesus and want to belong to him." It's so beautifully faithful and trusting. It's almost like the type of trust a child would have. And word on the street is that that's what Jesus is looking for.
I've been doing a lot of reading about the history of the church recently. Not so much by choice, but due to the fact that I'm taking Church History Readings this semester. What that means is that instead of going to class, I just do a lot of reading and then take quizzes on the books I read. There's a book due every two weeks, but I'm not much of a fan of staying on top of my responsibilities. So I spent this last Friday and Saturday morning reading 400 pages of history. Fun weekend. But anyways, I read about all these crazy revivals in the life of the church where people would travel from miles just to hear a preacher proclaim the gospel, and then thousands of people who give their lives to Christ. Some of the stories are absolutely nuts. Of course, it's just history. The world has changed since the time of the Great Awakening. People are much more sober and well-educated. They won't get caught up in spiritual excitement. Revivals are dead.
What we forget is that there's still a Spirit that likes to reassemble skeletons' dry bones and breath life in them. That there's a God who is still reconciling creation to himself. That there's a Christ that is supreme over the universe. Sure, these great revivals we read about happened a while back, but the God who initiated them is still working. Maybe the problem is that we're too busy cramping his style. We get so concerned about controlling what happens in the church that we're not listening to the head of the church. We want people to come to our churches, so we only preach practical self-help sermons and put the good news about Jesus' resurrection on the shelf. I hope revivals aren't dead, and I wonder why one can't start in little Carterville, Missouri until it stretches across the entire globe.
None of the people at church made it to the buffets as early as they usually do today. But there was a great deal of rejoicing and celebration among the angels in heaven this morning. And somehow, I think that may be more important that an early lunch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)