Sherlock

Last spring, I was browsing around a bookstore when I came across a copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle on sale for four dollars or so. At the time, I was just starting to read The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, which is crazy-long, so I didn't get around to starting Sherlock Holmes till this weekend. It was a really interesting read, actually, and I would recommend it.

Near the beginning of the book, Dr. Watson is marvelling at the way in which Sherlock Holmes is able to notice details about a situation that he is unable to himself. Sherlock picks up on the most minuscule of clues, and even though the same clues are available to Watson, he lacks the ability to piece them together and form conclusions from the evidence. Sherlock tests Watson by asking how many stairs are in the staircase leading to his room. Watson doesn't know, even though he has walked those stairs hundreds of times. Then Sherlock says, "Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is just my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps, because I have both seen and observed."

There's a difference between seeing and truly observing. Two people can look at the same situation, but only one of them might perceive the greater reality of what is going on. This happens more often than when we're trying to solve London-based crime mysteries, too. For one thing, it happens in our interaction with God.

The church I have been attending in Cincinnati started a sermon series called "Sync," and it deals with this idea that we don't always really observe the reality confronting us. Here's what the church's website says about the series:

God is always there--we often miss Him. God is at work around us and for us every day, and desires to be at work in us and through us--if we are open to that. But living spiritually in a material world is a continual challenge. We live for a God who is invisible, but real. So if we don't see Him or hear an audible voice, how do we experience Him? Where do we find Him? This series of messages is about encountering God, and then getting our lives synced with Him. It's a series of stories from Scripture about people who met Him and how they were changed as a result. Some were searching for Him; some weren't. But they all encountered the living God.

We're not always very good at picking up on the presence of God or on how he is at work. We see, but we don't observe. In the first sermon of the "Sync" series, the preacher talked about Genesis 28, when Jacob flees from his family for fear of his brother, whom he had ripped off and who was big and hairy and angry. On his journey, Jacob stops to sleep on the ground, and he has a dream in which he sees a stairway going up to heaven with angels all over it, and God appears and renews the Abrahamic covenant with Jacob. When Jacob wakes up, he says, "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it" (Gen. 28:16). 


It's not as though God only showed up there during Jacob's dream. He was there all the time. And not only that, but he was with Jacob all the time. God was at work in Jacob's life in ways that he didn't even perceive, so God had to make things very obvious to him through this spectacular dream. 


The preacher also referenced 2 Kings 6, where the prophet Elisha and his servant are surrounded by the armies of Aram, who have come to capture them. When the servant sees the situation, he freaks out and begins to despair, but Elisha somewhat cryptically replies, "Those who are with us are more than those who are with them." Then Elisha prays, "O Lord, open his eyes so he may see." Then, when the servant looks out, he "saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha." At first, the servant sees the situation, but Elisha observes. He sees how God is working behind the scenes, and it gives him peace. 


I wonder how many times I am in a situation where God is working but I never perceive it. Not until afterwards, anyway. I imagine it's pretty frequently. Maybe the same thing happens to you. You go through a tough time, but then when you're on the other side of it you can look back at it and say, like Jacob, "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it." But if we began to purposely look at the world with the purpose of perceiving God, how much more comfort and peace and joy might we be able to find in times of trouble?


Another way in which we often see but fail to observe is in our interactions with other people. Every day, you probably walk past hundreds of people. But how many of their faces can you even recall? Probably not very many. And honestly, even when you interact with people you know (or even some of your good friends!), you might not really try to see deeper situations that might be going on. We are masters of small-talk, and we might get to know people without every really getting to know them at all. Instead of really listening to and trying to understand one another, we just skate along the surface. We see, but we don't observe.


My encouragement to you, then, is to work on being conscious of the deeper realities that surround you every day. God is present, and God is active, and we are more able to join in with what he is doing in the world when we perceive what it is that he's doing. At the same time, we walk among people who have stories and personalities, and we would perhaps be better people if we learned to see beyond the face and understand the person.


Might as well go solve some mysteries well you're at it. 

It's All in Who You Know

If you have been reading my blog the past few weeks, you know that I've moved to Cincinnati, Ohio, and you also know that I've been having some trouble finding a job. Well...nothing has really changed in that regard. For the past several days, I really haven't done much except sit around hoping the phone rings with a job opportunity. I feel like one of those college athletes that doesn't actually go to the draft, so they sit at home anxiously waiting for the phone to ring and tell them what team they're going to play for. Up to this point, though, it's looking like I might end up as Mr. Irrelevant.

I've been thinking about why it might be that I'm having so much trouble landing a job (after all, with no job, I've had time to think about all sorts of things). I have come to believe that, when it comes to getting a job, having the right connections matters more than being especially qualified. If you know someone who runs a business, or if you just know someone who works there, then you've got a better shot of being offered a position. On the other hand, if you are just blindly sending applications to dozens of hiring managers who have never heard of you, it becomes much more difficult.

That's my experience in the jobs I have had, anyway. When I worked at Wal-Mart for a summer, it was largely because a guy from my church is one of the managers, and he mentioned the opening to me. When I worked at my college's library, it was because my friend Erin worked there and mentioned to her supervisors that I would be good for it. When I preached at a church in Oklahoma, it was because my friend Sy had been preaching there and was looking for a replacement. And for all three of the church internships, I had a connection with the minister I worked with. So more often than not, it's all about who you know. I could be very qualified for a position, but I might lose it to a snotty-nosed high schooler whose uncle runs the store.

It's about who you know. I think this same principle is true when it comes to us and God, but this time, I think this is a very good thing. We don't get to God because we are qualified for it. We like to think that sometimes. We work really hard at following all the rules and knowing all the right things, and we expect this to impress God. It's like we're handing him resumes and saying, "Be sure to get a good look at my education and my experience and skills. I haven't missed a Sunday of church in twelve years, and I took some classes at Bible college too, and I can parse Greek verbs, and the only curse word I ever say is the D-word...none of the really bad ones."

The bad news is that none of our resumes qualify us for salvation. All of us are under-qualified. Scripture tells us that all of us have sinned and that sin prevents us from being able to come to God. If we depend on all of the things we have done to try to win God's favor, we fail.

The wonderfully good news, though, is that our deeds don't get us to God. It's not about what we've done or haven't done. It's not about what we know. Instead, it's all about who you know. It's about whether or not you know Jesus--whether or not you're connected to the only one who does qualify for heaven. In Galatians 2:16, Paul says that we "know that a man is not justified by observing the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ. So we, too, have put our faith in Christ Jesus that we may be justified by faith in Christ and not by observing the law, because by observing the law no one will be justified."

Every couple months, I feel an obligation to quote Donald Miller. Here's what he says in To Own a Dragon: "Heaven and hell are about who you know, not what you do. Who you know saves you from what you did and who you are inside" (138). And we desperately need saving. Isaiah says that even our most righteous deeds are like filthy rags before God. That's not something you would want to wear to a job interview.

This is the beauty of grace. Our salvation doesn't rest on what we have accomplished. It's all about what Jesus accomplished, and it's about whether or not we're connected to him. It's all in who you know. Of course, my intention isn't to give anyone a license for lawlessness, as though the way we live has no meaning. Just today I read a really good chapter in Philip Yancey's What's So Amazing About Grace? about such grace abuse. But I also read a good chapter about legalism, which he calls "grace avoidance." And considering how amazing grace is, why would we want to avoid it?

A Little Is A Lot

The things I'm going to write today are nothing new. I'm not bringing any fresh revelation. If you go to church or anything very often, you probably hear a couple sermons a year telling you the same truths that I am going to share today. I've heard it all a million times. So I don't want to try to beat anyone over the head with this, nor do I want to guilt-trip anyone. But the truth is that over the past few weeks, I have had to remind myself of these things repeatedly to keep myself from becoming a selfish complainer, or at least to keep myself from complaining more than I already do.

I have now been living in Cincinnati for three weeks, and I'm still jobless. It's not for lack of trying; I think I've applied to over fifty employers by now. But, for whatever reason, I just haven't had much luck landing anything. Not to say don't enjoy the time off. It's been nice to spend my days reading and watching Pawn Stars and old Planet of the Apes movies. However, now that I'm in the "adult world," I have adult expenses: rent, utilities, groceries, gas, etc. Thankfully, I've got enough cash saved up to last a little while, but I am quickly realizing that it's not much fun to have a lot of expenses and no income.

So I have been trying to be careful with how I use my money. I make sure not to leave lights on or to have the air conditioner running all the time. I eat ham sandwiches at home instead of going to Chick-fil-A for lunch. I don't buy anything at the store that I don't need. And, to be honest, it's kind of a drag. I'm not used to being required to be so disciplined. When I was in college at Ozark, I didn't think twice about making a Taco Bell run for a late-night snack, because it only cost a few dollars. But now even a few dollars is something I have to be concerned about.

It's easy for me to complain about all of these things, and it's easy for me to sit around and think longingly about the good old days (namely, a month ago) when I didn't have so many worries and concerns. But then I have to remember how most people in the world have much less than I do. You've probably heard the statistics at some point--about how billions of people live on less than $2 a day and how thousands and thousands of children die from malnutrition and preventable diseases. It's astounding. (If you want to see more poverty facts, you can check them out here. When I think about the problems that so many people in the world deal with, then the fact that I haven't been able to buy anything on iTunes for a while seems much less troubling. Most people in the world can't even fathom having some of the things I do, simply because I have a car, computer, phone, and bed. We live in a pretty crazy world if an unemployed grad student can be in the upper tier of global wealth.

Again, my purpose in writing this isn't to guilt-trip you. I don't want to make you feel bad. But I do want you to think about these things and to be incredibly grateful for what you have, even if it's not quite what you wish you had. And I'll work on doing the same.

And now, a few housekeeping issues. Last week I had a contest for readers to give me a recipe they think I can handle, and two of my friends, Charlie and Katie, both commented with a recipe. After careful thought, I have decided that Charlie wins, for the sole reason that he lives 110 miles from me instead of 2426 miles, so he is more likely to be able to use his prize. So Charlie, if you ever want to eat some garlic bread, come on over. However, just for entering, I'll give each of you a plug for your blogs. So be sure to check out Charlie's blog here, and Katie's blog here.

A final thought: I really have no idea how adult relationships work, meaning that I don't know how people meet others and make friends when they don't live in a dorm on a small Bible college campus with a bunch of other people. Even more so, I don't know how romantic relationships work in the real world, where it probably takes more than just kicking the back of the chair of the girl who sits in front of you in class until she turns around and you can ask her to walk around campus with you. I guess that to make friends, you just have to go where people are, and to meet a girl, you have to go where single girls are. But going to any such places costs money, and as I have already said, that's a problem right now. Making friends costs money, and finding a sweetheart costs even more. The band House of Heroes has a song titled "Love is For the Middle Class," and perhaps they're right. After all, I don't think many girls want to go on a date that involves them coming over and eating ramen noodles with me.

The Cost of Stew Has Really Gone Up

When I read about Esau in the Bible, I always think about how he and I are very similar. He was big and strong and hairy. He was an outdoorsman, and he loved to go out and hunt and climb trees and crush stones with his bare hands. Esau was a man's man. He would have been one of the guys in the World's Strongest Man competitions on ESPN. Like I said, we are practically mirror images of each other.

Alright, so maybe I'm not very much like Esau in those ways. I don't look like him, and I'm not an outdoors-y type. I did play football one year when I was a kid though, but we didn't even win a game. However, there are times when I am like Esau in a negative way, and maybe this is true of you too. In Hebrews 13:16-17, the author warns us to make sure that we are not like Esau, "who for a single meal sold his inheritance rights as the oldest son. Afterward, as you know, when he wanted to inherit this blessing, he was rejected. He could bring about no change of mind, though he sought the blessing with tears."

This is a reference to Genesis 25, which tells how Esau came home after a hunting trip and saw his younger brother Jacob cooking a pot of stew. Esau was so hungry that he traded his birthright as the oldest brother to Jacob, just so that he could have some of the stew. Part of the birthright meant that Esau was supposed to get a double-portion of the family's inheritance when their father died. But instead, Esau was so concerned with filling his belly at that moment that he threw it all away just so that he could have a bowl of stew. He forsook something much greater for immediate satisfaction.

All of us do the same thing from time to time. For us, it probably isn't selling our inheritance for stew (though I can sort of relate to Esau. It's hard for me to open my fridge and see cans of Coke in there without grabbing one, even if I know I should have something else.) But it's easy for us to become short-sighted and to pursue temporary thrills or pleasures while sacrificing greater rewards. That's one of the root causes of sin, really. We tell God, "This is what I need right now, so I'm going to ignore what you command so that I can get it. I know what's best for me." Afterward, though, we can look back and see the foolishness of our decision.

What does this look like in real-life situations? It might be spending money impulsively on something you see in the store window instead of using it wisely as a resource to help others. It might be settling for a relationship that is easier and more immediate instead of working for one that is better. It might be loafing around on a couch with potato chip crumbs all over you instead of remaining active and healthy. It might be choosing a career path that will give you fame and fortune instead of one that you can use to do real good in the world. It might be choosing a short time of pleasure instead of a life of purity. It might be spending all afternoon watching YouTube videos instead of spending any time in Bible study or prayer. And the list could go on and on with ways that we choose the easy, immediate, quick ways to handle life instead of the ways that God commands us to follow.

It's all so difficult because living a life of obedience can take a long time to see its goal. Several times, Scripture refers to righteousness and holy living as "fruit" (Phil. 1:11). Fruit takes a while to grow. You have to plant a seed and wait for the plant to grow, and then you have to take care of the tree so that it can produce healthy fruit in season. Growing fruit takes hard work, patience, and diligence before you ever get to taste the final product. And to see the benefits of a righteous life, it takes a long time. We need long-term vision if we are going to be faithful to remaining on track. Our problem is that we wish that instead of being fruit, it was more like a Pop-Tart--put it in the toaster and 30 seconds later, it's hot and ready. So we chase after the Pop-Tarts of life instead of waiting for fruit, which is better by far.

So watch out for the Esau-like tendencies in your own life. In Hebrews, the author gives a ton of other examples of people who were quite the opposite--people who resisted temporary comforts and pleasures because they knew something better was coming. The list includes Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and others. These were people who didn't settle in because they "were longing for a better country--a heavenly one" (Heb. 11:16). In the same way, author exhorts us to look for "the city that is to come" (Heb. 13:14). Focus on what's to come, not on the cheap substitutes that are right in front of you.

On the right, you'll see a new link for Eat Your Bible, a blog that my friend Sy is doing with daily Bible studies. I encourage you to check it out. I wrote a guest-post for it on Aug. 15th, so check that out too.

And now, a contest: Recently I have moved into my own apartment, which means that I have to start cooking for myself. So far, my cooking arsenal includes BBQ chicken sandwiches, spaghetti, hamburger helper, ham sandwiches, frozen pizza (which I burned and set off my smoke alarm with), and hot dogs. So if you have a recipe for anything that a culinary moron like me could make, leave it in a comment. The prize for the recipe I like best: I'll cook it for you if you come visit me in Cincinnati. And if you buy all the ingredients. And if you leave a tip.

Worry

A couple weeks ago, I promised to begin writing two blog posts every week. Well, I haven't been doing a very good job at that, but I have a good excuse. I've been busy becoming an adult. Since the last time I wrote, I have moved to Cincinnati, Ohio so that I can begin seminary classes in just a couple weeks. This means that I have moved out of my parents' house and now have my own apartment with all of its responsibilities included. I have bills to pay and dinners to cook and robbers to keep out, and if I can be honest, it's stressing me out.

I've never before felt like I've had much of a problem with worry before. I like to think of myself as a pretty easy-going guy. I roll with the punches. I ride the waves. But one thing I have realized over the past week is that it's easy not to worry when you have other people taking care of you. I don't have to worry about my food when I have a parent to cook it or a college dining hall to walk to. I don't have to worry about having a well-maintained place to live when I sleep in a dorm room and the janitorial staff comes and cleans our hallway every day. When you're out on your own, so many of the concerns and responsibilities that you didn't even think of growing up are placed on your shoulders, and it can all begin to feel awfully heavy.

I'm not writing all of this as an excuse to say that worrying is alright and that it's just part of life. Scripture tells us that worry is not alright. Jesus taught that we shouldn't worry about food and clothes and all of the other things of life on this earth, because God is a good father who will take care of us. Our job is to seek God and to join in what he's doing in the world. 

So no, I am not trying to excuse worrying. I am simply confessing that this area is a weakness of mine. I am a worrier. I worry about having an expensive apartment but as of yet, not job to start paying for it. I worry about whether or not my culinary skills are going to be sufficient to cook that box of mac 'n cheese for dinner. I worry about whether or not I'm going to be able to handle the workload of grad school on top of working and taking care of my apartment. I worry about not being able to make friends in a new city. I worry about getting lost while driving around and ending up in the 'hood. I worry that it might have been a complete mistake to come to seminary and that maybe I should be doing something else.

There are a lot of worries that can pop up as you mature and enter new stages of life. If you're anything like me, you could make your own list of issues and concerns that worry you. When Jesus tells the parable of the sower and he talks about seed falling on different types of soil, he says that the seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear God's Word, but then the worries of life choke it out. It's easy for me to read that and start thinking about people I know who are like that, but when I'm honest, I'm like that more than I would like. In Crazy Love, Francis Chan writes about this parable, and he warns us to never assume that we are the good soil in the story. We need to check our own hearts and attitudes to make sure that we really are trusting God with our lives. We need to do this when life seems to be going easy, and we need to do it when life is hard too. Now that I'm an "adult," Jesus' words about worry are so much more challenging to me.

So maybe I have a lot of things to worry about. But the truth is that I'll be okay. I'm not dealing with anything that millions of other people haven't already gone through as they begin their lives on their own. I have incredible friends and family who support me and pray for me. And most importantly, I have a God walking beside me who is capable of taking care of me. It may be that God hasn't allowed me to find a job in Cincinnati yet because he knows that my body and my mind need a couple weeks of rest before classes start. It may be that he hasn't gifted me with talent in cooking because there is an excess of ham sandwiches in the world, and he needs me to eat them all. Who knows? At times, it feels like I'm alone. But I'm really not, because God is right there with me, and for now, my job is simply to be content in him. He can handle the rest.