I haven't written for a while. And for that, I apologize. Just in case you have some sort of interest in what is going on in my life: The semester is rolling along, though I feel like I am already getting behind. This semester should be really easy, but what I'm discovering is that the less work I have to do, the less motivated I am to do anything. I end up just sitting around all day, even though I don't have much to do. I turned 21 last week, and celebrated by eating buffalo wings with some of the most awesome people in the world, plus Charlie. We had two days of class canceled this week due to wintry weather, so I was definitely down with that and enjoyed the extra sleep immensely. My intramural basketball team won our first game on Thursday, though I am currently sidelined due to my slowly-improving knee. And I am very, very excited about the Steelers playing in the Super Bowl on Sunday, and I am anxious to whip out my Hines Ward jersey and Terrible Towel for the event. So now we should all be caught up to date.
I've been reading through the gospel of Mark. My freshman year of high school, Mark was part of the text for Bible Bowl, so it's something I have read a whole lot. Because of this, it tends to be something that I skim over because I feel like I've already heard it all a million times. Thus, over the past several weeks I've been trying to really dig deeper into the book and to pull out something fresh and new to me, and it has been very beneficial and I have learned a lot about Jesus and the life he calls us to. A while ago, I came across a couple passages that really stood out to me, so I thought I'd share some of the things that really hit me.
Mark 4-6 portrays the classic Jesus that most of us probably envision from stories told in our little-kid Sunday School classes in the day. In this section of Mark's gospel, Jesus is traveling around performing miracles and telling parables. When I was reading this, the theme of Jesus' lordship was especially highlighted. Jesus is shown to be the lord of all sorts of things: storms, demons, bread and fish, sickness, death, and gravity. He's in charge. He's the man. What he says goes. All things are under Jesus' control, and he lords over them with authority.
This is also a time of great popularity for Jesus. Thousands of people are flocking to him to listen to him teach and to have him heal their sick family-members and friends. If Jesus' lordship covers elements of nature and of spirits, it only makes sense that the individual lives of all these people need to be submitted to his lordship as well. If Jesus has control over everything in the world, he is also the rightful lord of a person's life. And yet, in the midst of these chapters in Mark, two instances are given of groups of people who choose to reject Jesus' lordship, desiring rather to have nothing to do with him.
In Mark 5, Jesus goes across the Sea of Galilee to the region of the Gerasenes. There, he encounters a demon-possessed man, and he orders the demons to leave the man and sends them into a nearby herd of pigs. The herd of 2000 crazed pigs then rushes down the hill into the lake, and they all drown. Obviously, the guys watching over the pigs are a little alarmed by this, so they run off and tell the people of the town. When the people get to Jesus and see the man who had been possessed acting like a normal person, they beg Jesus to leave the area.
This doesn't make sense. During this period, pretty much everyone is doing everything they can to get to Jesus. But the Gerasenes want none of that. Instead, they ask him to depart. Why? I think they were a little upset about the 2000 pig carcasses floating in the lake. The Gerasenes were not Jews, so they ate pork. And they had just seen all their bacon rush off to a watery demise. This was a tremendous economic loss. What this shows is that when Jesus comes to town, changes are made. He changes the life of the demoniac by healing him. And he changes the lives of the Gerasenes by causing their commodity to drown. And they're not digging that. So they ask him to leave. They reject his lordship. They're upset about what Jesus did. These people would rather live with a demon that let Jesus have control.
And I wonder how often we have the same attitude. When we hand our lives over to Jesus' lordship, he promises to make changes in our lives, and this may mean stripping away some of the things we hold dear. It might be money or status or friends or sins. And we refuse to give it up. We refuse to submit everything to Christ's lordship. We keep everything in close, living with our demons instead of handing it all over to God.
Then there's the second group from this portion of Mark that says "No thanks" to Jesus. In Mark 6, Jesus goes to his own hometown of Nazareth and teaches in the synagogue. After this, the Nazarenes comment on Jesus' origin, basically saying something along the lines of "Who does this guy think he is?" After all, they know where he comes from, who his parents are, and who his siblings are. How can Jesus be so assuming to come into his home synagogue and preach to the people about what they need to do in their lives? And Mark writes, "And they took offense at him" (6:3). In reply, Jesus gives the famous line that a prophet is not accepted in his hometown.
For a long time in reading this story, I identified myself with Jesus. As a person going into ministry, I figured that his words about a prophet not being accepted in his hometown applied to me. In ministry, I will probably not be as effective if I don't leave my nest. But now, I wonder if I identify more closely with the people of Nazareth. The reason that they reject Jesus and his lordship is because they are so familiar with him. They know his roots. They know everything about him. And so, when Jesus comes preaching a life-altering message, they basically ignore what he says.
Ever since I was born, I have been saturated with Christianity. I have been in church almost every Sunday of my life. I've read most of the Bible multiple times. I go to class 16 hours a week learning about Jesus. Thanks to all of this, it is easy for me to feel overly familiar with Jesus. It's like I know all there is to know. There's nothing new. Nothing grabs me. I often think of Jesus as my life-long buddy and forget that he is the Lord that makes some pretty incredible demands of my life. I withhold my life from him and reject his control because, like the Nazarenes, I'm too familiar with him. Been there, done that. I lose the awe and wonder of who God is and what he has done and what he wants to do in the world and through me.
None of this is good, but they're things that I think a lot of Christians deal with. Have we truly made Christ our Lord? Or are we holding on to parts of our life, not willing to let him deal with them? Are has Jesus become so commonplace for us that we no longer recognize what following him requires? Are we going to be content being a Gerasene or a Nazarene? Or are we going to chase after Jesus with everything we have, offering him our lives and allowing him to make us new from the inside out?
Friday, January 30, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Show Me the Money
The spring semester has begun. Consequently, I am no longer able to lay around on the coach all day long watching episodes of House and eating Pringles. I have to get up early and walk through the blistering cold to my 7 a.m. class, risking hypothermia all the way. But really, I'm glad to be back. I prefer the company of other people to the company of all our pet cats. And people generally leave a lot less hair on all my clothes.
I want to write today about something I've thought about for a while. It has to do with how modern American churches handle church offering. Now this probably isn't really a big issue, but I think it's worth considering. Now here's how the collection of offering looks in most churches. Someone will get up and make an offering appeal, often referring to the story of the poor widow giving her gift in the temple. After a brief prayer, the plates are passed throughout the pews, and congregants place their personal checks in the plate and pass it along. Afterward, the gifts are handed over to the church treasurer, and he goes to some room and counts it up. Then, as tax time approaches, church members receive statements of how much money they gave over the year so that they can pay less taxes or whatever. I don't really know how tax stuff works, but that's how I understand it.
When Jesus talks about giving to the needy in the Sermon on the Mount, he says, "Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you" (Matt. 5:3-4). In America, a ton of people give their offering by writing out a check. I find it hard to fit Jesus' words about giving in secret to our practice of giving money with our names printed on it. And then we get statements telling us how much we give in a year so that we can let our accountants know and pay a few less bucks to the government.
I understand why people write checks for their offering. A lot of people today don't like to carry cash, and it's a lot more convenient and whatnot. They don't do it to draw attention to themselves at all. And I don't mean to judge anybody or anything like that. There are many more significant problems that I could write about. I just think it's kind of an odd practice that our churches have adopted, and I wonder if there is a better way we can practice Jesus' command to give in secret.
Charlie, Ryan, and I watched all five "Planet of the Apes" movies this week. I suggest you do likewise.
I want to write today about something I've thought about for a while. It has to do with how modern American churches handle church offering. Now this probably isn't really a big issue, but I think it's worth considering. Now here's how the collection of offering looks in most churches. Someone will get up and make an offering appeal, often referring to the story of the poor widow giving her gift in the temple. After a brief prayer, the plates are passed throughout the pews, and congregants place their personal checks in the plate and pass it along. Afterward, the gifts are handed over to the church treasurer, and he goes to some room and counts it up. Then, as tax time approaches, church members receive statements of how much money they gave over the year so that they can pay less taxes or whatever. I don't really know how tax stuff works, but that's how I understand it.
When Jesus talks about giving to the needy in the Sermon on the Mount, he says, "Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you" (Matt. 5:3-4). In America, a ton of people give their offering by writing out a check. I find it hard to fit Jesus' words about giving in secret to our practice of giving money with our names printed on it. And then we get statements telling us how much we give in a year so that we can let our accountants know and pay a few less bucks to the government.
I understand why people write checks for their offering. A lot of people today don't like to carry cash, and it's a lot more convenient and whatnot. They don't do it to draw attention to themselves at all. And I don't mean to judge anybody or anything like that. There are many more significant problems that I could write about. I just think it's kind of an odd practice that our churches have adopted, and I wonder if there is a better way we can practice Jesus' command to give in secret.
Charlie, Ryan, and I watched all five "Planet of the Apes" movies this week. I suggest you do likewise.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Thorns in the Path
For the past few days, I've been off at Ozark's Spiritual Formation Retreat. And it was fantastic. Definitely one of the best things I have done in my time at Ozark. It really focused me for the upcoming semester and helped push aside a lot of things that distract me from God. And not only that, but it gave me a lot of things to think about, and thus to blog about! And I know all of you are oh so excited for that!
One day on the retreat, we were told to go out and just walk, observing the things around us, praying, and asking God to speak to us. And so I began to walk. There was a wooded area behind the retreat center, so I decided to head for that. And I soon discovered that I was not really on any kind of path but was instead just trekking straight on through the trees and everything else that was there. So of course, I came upon a number of obstacles that hindered my journey: logs, thornbushes, etc. Normally, all of that stuff would be no problem for me, but as a lot of you know, I injured my knee about a month ago. And although my knee is doing a whole lot better and didn't cause me any serious problems on my hike, it's still not 100%. Thus, the thorns and other obstacles became somewhat more daunting. Objects that I would normally be able to jump over or step around were a little more challenging. On my hike, there were two different types of obstacles: external obstacles (the logs and thorns) and internal obstacles (my knee). The challenge of the external obstacles was amplified by the severity of my internal obstacle.
And now for the metaphor. Think of life as a hike. In the walk of life, we are faced with a number of external obstacles that we can't really do anything about: tragedies, family situations, financial problems, etc. In addition, we all possess some amount of an internal obstacle, whether it be some sin or attitude or whatever. A person without an internal obstacle would be someone whose heart is completely right before God in faith, love, and hope. And I wonder how many of the external obstacles we face are only so difficult because we allow internal obstacles to drag us down. Just as I would be more able to tackle the fallen tree limbs on my hike if my knee were totally healthy, I suspect we would be more equipped to handle life's problems if our hearts were spiritually healthy.
I think about people in the Bible who went through especially hard times, like Joseph and David and Job and Paul. All of these guys handled life's troubles a whole lot better than I do. Why? Likely because they had right hearts. They didn't have as many internal obstacles magnifying their external problems. They nurtured their spirituality so that when tough times came, they were able to handle the situation.
Bad things happen, and they have the dangerous ability of pulling us down. It can seem so impossible to get through an awful circumstance. But if we prepare ourselves now by recognizing our internal obstacles and minimizing them, I think we'll be be much more ready for what the world throws at us. Don't let a bum knee keep you from jumping over thornbushes.
One day on the retreat, we were told to go out and just walk, observing the things around us, praying, and asking God to speak to us. And so I began to walk. There was a wooded area behind the retreat center, so I decided to head for that. And I soon discovered that I was not really on any kind of path but was instead just trekking straight on through the trees and everything else that was there. So of course, I came upon a number of obstacles that hindered my journey: logs, thornbushes, etc. Normally, all of that stuff would be no problem for me, but as a lot of you know, I injured my knee about a month ago. And although my knee is doing a whole lot better and didn't cause me any serious problems on my hike, it's still not 100%. Thus, the thorns and other obstacles became somewhat more daunting. Objects that I would normally be able to jump over or step around were a little more challenging. On my hike, there were two different types of obstacles: external obstacles (the logs and thorns) and internal obstacles (my knee). The challenge of the external obstacles was amplified by the severity of my internal obstacle.
And now for the metaphor. Think of life as a hike. In the walk of life, we are faced with a number of external obstacles that we can't really do anything about: tragedies, family situations, financial problems, etc. In addition, we all possess some amount of an internal obstacle, whether it be some sin or attitude or whatever. A person without an internal obstacle would be someone whose heart is completely right before God in faith, love, and hope. And I wonder how many of the external obstacles we face are only so difficult because we allow internal obstacles to drag us down. Just as I would be more able to tackle the fallen tree limbs on my hike if my knee were totally healthy, I suspect we would be more equipped to handle life's problems if our hearts were spiritually healthy.
I think about people in the Bible who went through especially hard times, like Joseph and David and Job and Paul. All of these guys handled life's troubles a whole lot better than I do. Why? Likely because they had right hearts. They didn't have as many internal obstacles magnifying their external problems. They nurtured their spirituality so that when tough times came, they were able to handle the situation.
Bad things happen, and they have the dangerous ability of pulling us down. It can seem so impossible to get through an awful circumstance. But if we prepare ourselves now by recognizing our internal obstacles and minimizing them, I think we'll be be much more ready for what the world throws at us. Don't let a bum knee keep you from jumping over thornbushes.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Oh Eight
Today is the last day of the year. I'm a little bit of a reflective person, I guess. I always like the end of things, because I think it's fun to be able to think about how things used to be and what's happened since then and how stuff has changed and where everything is going. For example, at the end of a sports season, I love when they show the montage videos of all the different big plays from the year. And so, as 2008 comes to a close, I think it's somewhat important to look back on what the year has brought. However, I guess each year means different things to different people, so what defines 2008 for me is obviously going to be different that what it was to you. And since I am only myself, I can only write intelligently write about my own life. So I might be the only one who cares about anything that follows, but that's okay. They say writing is therapeutic. And I'm in pretty bad shape, so I probably need all the therapy I can get.
One thing that I'll remember about 2008 are all the little random trips that I went on. Outside of the summer, I didn't go anywhere too crazy, but there were a few new experiences that were interesting enough. For example, there were the two trips to Tulsa: to help at CIY Believe in February and to go to the National Missionary Convention in November. Or there was my trip to Buffalo NY over spring break (and an afternoon trek into Canada, eh?). Or there was the October pilgrimage to Albuquerque, where I got to see all kinds of balloons and have kind of crazy reaction to a big burrito.
2008 was also a year of personal records. For example, I think I attended three weddings, which I imagine is the most I've ever done. I also went to Starbucks four times, which is the most I ever have in year (Because I really don't like coffee that much). I also think I probably logged more miles on the road traveling from place to place than any other year of my life. So Michael Phelps and I will both remember this last year for our record-breaking performances.
Unfortunately, I may remember 2008 for certain periods of intense physical pain. Last May, I was enjoying a nice, friendly game of softball with some of my fellow Ozark students. Everyone was having a great time. After I hit another crushing line drive to the outfield, I was standing on first base. When the next batter hit a ground ball up the middle, I took off for second. Ryan Hicks, who was playing shortstop, scooped up the ball and hurled it to first. Unfortunately for me, I happened to be in between him and the ball's destination, and it slammed into my left side, creating an instant welt. (There's pictures on facebook. It's actually pretty cool looking). At the time, I believed that was the worst pain I had ever felt before. And then December came. I was in the gym playing a game of pickup basketball that came down to the wire. I was guarding Charlie Landis, and even though he's not very good, I figured I should guard him pretty close just in case. He received a pass and looked like he was about to put up a game-winning three-pointer, so I jumped to block it. Much to my dismay, he did not actually shoot the ball, but dribbled to my right. When I landed from my leap and attempted to change direction to get back in front of him, my body decided that would be fine time to stop supporting itself, and I tumbled to the floor. After painfully hobbling around campus for a few days, I learned that I had a torn meniscus in my knee. And that, my friends, is not much fun. (Here's the irony: Not long before that softball game, Ryan Hicks broke a rib and punctured a lung, which I occasionally made fun of him for. In return, he nearly broke my rib by targeting me with the softball. In high school, Charlie tore his ACL, which I also made fun of from time to time, three years later he took his revenge and gave me a knee injury. Lesson learned: don't make fun of people when they're down, because they will mess you up.)
A big change in my life came in October, when my sister got married. I've already written all about that, so I won't go into it much here. But thankfully, things there have not really changed negatively, and we're still tight and I have a pretty excellent new brother-in-law. It does mean I have to buy one more present at Christmastime, but I guess I can live with that.
2008 also marks the founding of "A Chicken in a Cage with a Ferret"! And I'm confident that w'ere all grateful for that.
Probably the most significant experience in my life in 2008 was the summer, when I worked on Ozark's camp teams. Again, I've already written about all that, so you can check out my posts from July and August if you want. But being on camp teams was definitely one of the best things I have ever done. I learned a ton about God and ministry, I got to travel to some new places that I liked a lot, I met a bunch of awesome people all over the country, and I made some phenomenal friends.
So that's 2008. Of course, there's all kinds of other things scattered in there. The basketball and baseball games and the concerts and the Waffle House experience and the Chick-fil-A and Spangles trips and the Nertz games and everything else. It was a good year. Often frustrating, but also often awesome. It'll be nice to see what 2009 brings. I'll be turning 21, so I guess it's about time I grew up one of these days. And I'll hopefully be doing some type of internship this summer, and with luck I won't discover that I can't hack it in ministry. I look forward to making new friends and strengthening relationships with current friends and growing closer to God.
However, it's hard to be very confident about any New Year that will begin with me hanging out with the Landises.
One thing that I'll remember about 2008 are all the little random trips that I went on. Outside of the summer, I didn't go anywhere too crazy, but there were a few new experiences that were interesting enough. For example, there were the two trips to Tulsa: to help at CIY Believe in February and to go to the National Missionary Convention in November. Or there was my trip to Buffalo NY over spring break (and an afternoon trek into Canada, eh?). Or there was the October pilgrimage to Albuquerque, where I got to see all kinds of balloons and have kind of crazy reaction to a big burrito.
2008 was also a year of personal records. For example, I think I attended three weddings, which I imagine is the most I've ever done. I also went to Starbucks four times, which is the most I ever have in year (Because I really don't like coffee that much). I also think I probably logged more miles on the road traveling from place to place than any other year of my life. So Michael Phelps and I will both remember this last year for our record-breaking performances.
Unfortunately, I may remember 2008 for certain periods of intense physical pain. Last May, I was enjoying a nice, friendly game of softball with some of my fellow Ozark students. Everyone was having a great time. After I hit another crushing line drive to the outfield, I was standing on first base. When the next batter hit a ground ball up the middle, I took off for second. Ryan Hicks, who was playing shortstop, scooped up the ball and hurled it to first. Unfortunately for me, I happened to be in between him and the ball's destination, and it slammed into my left side, creating an instant welt. (There's pictures on facebook. It's actually pretty cool looking). At the time, I believed that was the worst pain I had ever felt before. And then December came. I was in the gym playing a game of pickup basketball that came down to the wire. I was guarding Charlie Landis, and even though he's not very good, I figured I should guard him pretty close just in case. He received a pass and looked like he was about to put up a game-winning three-pointer, so I jumped to block it. Much to my dismay, he did not actually shoot the ball, but dribbled to my right. When I landed from my leap and attempted to change direction to get back in front of him, my body decided that would be fine time to stop supporting itself, and I tumbled to the floor. After painfully hobbling around campus for a few days, I learned that I had a torn meniscus in my knee. And that, my friends, is not much fun. (Here's the irony: Not long before that softball game, Ryan Hicks broke a rib and punctured a lung, which I occasionally made fun of him for. In return, he nearly broke my rib by targeting me with the softball. In high school, Charlie tore his ACL, which I also made fun of from time to time, three years later he took his revenge and gave me a knee injury. Lesson learned: don't make fun of people when they're down, because they will mess you up.)
A big change in my life came in October, when my sister got married. I've already written all about that, so I won't go into it much here. But thankfully, things there have not really changed negatively, and we're still tight and I have a pretty excellent new brother-in-law. It does mean I have to buy one more present at Christmastime, but I guess I can live with that.
2008 also marks the founding of "A Chicken in a Cage with a Ferret"! And I'm confident that w'ere all grateful for that.
Probably the most significant experience in my life in 2008 was the summer, when I worked on Ozark's camp teams. Again, I've already written about all that, so you can check out my posts from July and August if you want. But being on camp teams was definitely one of the best things I have ever done. I learned a ton about God and ministry, I got to travel to some new places that I liked a lot, I met a bunch of awesome people all over the country, and I made some phenomenal friends.
So that's 2008. Of course, there's all kinds of other things scattered in there. The basketball and baseball games and the concerts and the Waffle House experience and the Chick-fil-A and Spangles trips and the Nertz games and everything else. It was a good year. Often frustrating, but also often awesome. It'll be nice to see what 2009 brings. I'll be turning 21, so I guess it's about time I grew up one of these days. And I'll hopefully be doing some type of internship this summer, and with luck I won't discover that I can't hack it in ministry. I look forward to making new friends and strengthening relationships with current friends and growing closer to God.
However, it's hard to be very confident about any New Year that will begin with me hanging out with the Landises.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
The Night the World Changed
Right now, "I Celebrate the Day" by Relient K should be playing on your computer. I hope you listen to it. But in case you, like me, have a computer that has malfunctioning sound, I'll put the words of this song here:
I absolutely love this song. It states so simply, yet so beautifully, what Christmas is all about. At Christmastime, we get so wrapped up with all kinds of things, like presents, travel, ham, family, gingerbread houses, TV specials, lights, and on and on and on. And most of those things aren't at all bad in themselves. But that's not what Christmas is. Christmas is all focused on Jesus. And so, as Christians, we keep Jesus in Christmas by singing "Happy Birthday Jesus" or by going to church on Christmas Eve and reading the nativity story. And then we got on with the rest of our holiday.
I don't think that we really understand just how huge the Jesus-event is. Everything from his birth to life and ministry to death and resurrection. It's what the world is all about. It is THE point of everything. And we forget this, not just on Christmas, but all the time. Every day, I spend so much time, energy, and thought on classes and sports and girls and bum knees and all kinds of other things. And I think THAT'S all what life is about. But that's not even close. I wig out about all these little things, all the while neglecting the big thing.
It's an incredible thought. All of history, all of existence, comes down to Jesus. The entire universe centered around God enfleshed, lying in a manger in a tiny village. And it changed the world forever. That baby died for me and lives in me, and I will live with him forever. That's the bottom line of the story. That's what it's all about. That's what everything's about. All this other nonsense that eats up my attention fades when compared to Christ.
Merry Christmas. I hope you all get everything that you want, and that you have a great day with family and friends. But I especially hope that you remember Christ, not just today, but all the time. Celebrate the day every day.
And with this Christmas wish is missed
The point I could convey
If only I could find the words to say
To let you know how much you've touched my life
Because here is where you're finding me
In the exact same place as New Year's Eve
And from the lack of my persistency
We're less than half as close as I want to be
And the first time that you opened your eyes
Did you realize that you would be my Savior?
And the first breath that left your lips
Did you know that it would change this world forever?
And so this Christmas I'll compare
The things I've felt in prior years
To what this midnight made so clear
That you have come to meet me here
To look back, and think that
This baby would one day save me
In that hope that what you did
That you were born so I might really live
To look back, and think that this baby would one day save me
And I, I celebrate the day
That you were born to die
So I could one day pray for you to save my life
I absolutely love this song. It states so simply, yet so beautifully, what Christmas is all about. At Christmastime, we get so wrapped up with all kinds of things, like presents, travel, ham, family, gingerbread houses, TV specials, lights, and on and on and on. And most of those things aren't at all bad in themselves. But that's not what Christmas is. Christmas is all focused on Jesus. And so, as Christians, we keep Jesus in Christmas by singing "Happy Birthday Jesus" or by going to church on Christmas Eve and reading the nativity story. And then we got on with the rest of our holiday.
I don't think that we really understand just how huge the Jesus-event is. Everything from his birth to life and ministry to death and resurrection. It's what the world is all about. It is THE point of everything. And we forget this, not just on Christmas, but all the time. Every day, I spend so much time, energy, and thought on classes and sports and girls and bum knees and all kinds of other things. And I think THAT'S all what life is about. But that's not even close. I wig out about all these little things, all the while neglecting the big thing.
It's an incredible thought. All of history, all of existence, comes down to Jesus. The entire universe centered around God enfleshed, lying in a manger in a tiny village. And it changed the world forever. That baby died for me and lives in me, and I will live with him forever. That's the bottom line of the story. That's what it's all about. That's what everything's about. All this other nonsense that eats up my attention fades when compared to Christ.
Merry Christmas. I hope you all get everything that you want, and that you have a great day with family and friends. But I especially hope that you remember Christ, not just today, but all the time. Celebrate the day every day.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
In The Dust
A couple years ago, I went to my grandparents' house in Ohio for Thanksgiving. At the time, my grandma was suffering from Lou Gehrig's disease. As far as I can understand it, this is a disease of the nervous system where the body shuts down bit by bit. By the time I got there that November, my grandma couldn't walk or anything. My grandpa would pick her up from her bed every morning and put her in her chair, where she'd sit till he put her back in bed at night. Also, since she couldn't control all the muscles and stuff in her throat the right way, it was really hard for her to talk, and she could hardly eat anything. So she got really, really tiny, pretty much just skin and bones. It was evident when I was there that she wasn't going to make it much longer.
On Thanksgiving, my grandma started getting a little upset after dinner. I imagine it was because she knew this was the last time she would see me and my cousins all together at once. I remember after dinner, she just began to cry and cry and cry, and the sobs wracked her small, weakened frame. And I wasn't sure how to react. She was one of the kindest, most loving people I have ever met. It wasn't fair for her to suffer like this. To undergo such a slow, painful death and have to be so, so sad.
That night I was reading a chapter of Lamentations. Lamentations is written by Jeremiah and is all about the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians. And that night, as I was filled with such sadness, frustrated by all the crappy things that I could nothing about, I came across Lamentations 3:28-32:
Crappy things happen, and they suck and they're worth getting upset about. Grandmothers get sick. Parents get divorced. Fathers lose their jobs. Kids are taken captive as slaves in Asia. Relationships fall apart. AIDS rips through a continent. Mothers die.
Jerusalem gets destroyed.
So be sad. When these things happen, we don't have to pretend that it bounces off our denial-plated armor. Cry. Punch your pillow. Strum your guitar till blisters cover your fingers. Open your window and shout at the clouds. When crap happens, by all means, by sad.
But don't despair. That's where the difference is. Lamentations is all about being sad. It's about weeping and crying out at the bad things that happen. But it's not about hopelessness. Sorrow lasts for a time. We need to remember that in the midst of our sadness, God is there. When we fall facedown in the mud, he's ready to pick us back up. "For men are not cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love." God is there in our sorrow. And he's there in our happiness. While circumstances aren't constant, while our emotions definitely aren't constant, he is constant. It's okay to be upset at the right things and to express that emotion. But we shouldn't remain there. We need to allow God to comfort us and steady us and strengthen us to face life again. In the 1300's, Julian of Norwich wrote, "It is profitable for some souls to experience these alterations of mood--sometimes to be comforted and sometimes to fail and to be left to themselves. God wills that we know that he keeps us ever equally safe, in woe as in well-being."
And I think Jeremiah would agree.
On Thanksgiving, my grandma started getting a little upset after dinner. I imagine it was because she knew this was the last time she would see me and my cousins all together at once. I remember after dinner, she just began to cry and cry and cry, and the sobs wracked her small, weakened frame. And I wasn't sure how to react. She was one of the kindest, most loving people I have ever met. It wasn't fair for her to suffer like this. To undergo such a slow, painful death and have to be so, so sad.
That night I was reading a chapter of Lamentations. Lamentations is written by Jeremiah and is all about the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians. And that night, as I was filled with such sadness, frustrated by all the crappy things that I could nothing about, I came across Lamentations 3:28-32:
Let him sit alone in silence, for the Lord has laid it on him. Let him bury his face in the dust--there may yet be hope. Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him, and let him be filled with disgrace. For men are not cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love.Here's what struck me about this passage. Jeremiah is watching his homeland being demolished and his friends and countrymen being dragged off as captives to Babylon. And what he essentially says in the first bit of this is, "Be sad!" So often as Christians, we think, "There's no room for sadness in my life! I'm supposed to be filled with joy! I need to look peppy and happy all the time, or there must be something wrong with my faith!" So when something truly bad happens, our solution is to push our real emotions beneath the surface, keep our chin up, and act like everything is A-OK. But that's not how Jeremiah reacts. He laments. He sits in silence and buries his face in the dirt. He's upset, and he expresses it.
Crappy things happen, and they suck and they're worth getting upset about. Grandmothers get sick. Parents get divorced. Fathers lose their jobs. Kids are taken captive as slaves in Asia. Relationships fall apart. AIDS rips through a continent. Mothers die.
Jerusalem gets destroyed.
So be sad. When these things happen, we don't have to pretend that it bounces off our denial-plated armor. Cry. Punch your pillow. Strum your guitar till blisters cover your fingers. Open your window and shout at the clouds. When crap happens, by all means, by sad.
But don't despair. That's where the difference is. Lamentations is all about being sad. It's about weeping and crying out at the bad things that happen. But it's not about hopelessness. Sorrow lasts for a time. We need to remember that in the midst of our sadness, God is there. When we fall facedown in the mud, he's ready to pick us back up. "For men are not cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love." God is there in our sorrow. And he's there in our happiness. While circumstances aren't constant, while our emotions definitely aren't constant, he is constant. It's okay to be upset at the right things and to express that emotion. But we shouldn't remain there. We need to allow God to comfort us and steady us and strengthen us to face life again. In the 1300's, Julian of Norwich wrote, "It is profitable for some souls to experience these alterations of mood--sometimes to be comforted and sometimes to fail and to be left to themselves. God wills that we know that he keeps us ever equally safe, in woe as in well-being."
And I think Jeremiah would agree.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
The Elusiveness of Originality
It's Christmas break!
Moving on, I've been thinking a little bit lately about just how difficult it is to think or do or say anything that is truly original. The world has been around a pretty long time. And there have been many, many people that are smarter and more talented and more creative than I am. So chances are, nothing I do is going to be something that a million others haven't already done. For example, a couple posts ago I wrote about my theory on time and about how time seems to move faster as we get older because it's a smaller percentage of our lives. Probably not a groundbreaking concept, but not a bad idea, I think. In the following several days, I was informed by two people (Jackie and Tom) that they too had thought about this. So if two of my five readers have already had this same idea, I can safely assume that 40% of the world's population has thought the same thing. So my theory on time is less original than eating turkey on Thanksgiving.
Also, our freshman year, Charlie wrote a line for a paper that was something along the lines of "Jesus was crucified for our salvation and resurrected for our hope." It's a good quote. Really good, actually. So I jokingly questioned that Charlie had thought of it himself. When we googled it, we found that someone else had already said pretty much the exact same thing. Now I really don't think that Charlie stole the sentence. Someone had just unfortunately beat him to the punch.
However, there are some people that truly do come up with original ideas and who are genuinely creative in a way the world has never seen before. At some point, Eli Whitney had to sit down and invent the cotton gin. Beethoven had to write his symphonies. Dave Thomas had to create square hamburger patties. These people were pioneers. Whereas I recycle decades-old ideas on my blog, they brought something new and fresh to society. So to all you writers, artists, musicians, inventors, and everyone else that churn out original ideas: I salute you. I mean, without you, television would just be filled with the same, ridiculous reality dating shows where one dude dates twenty women until he eliminates all but one.
Oh wait. I guess that's really all that's on TV. My bad.
Moving on, I've been thinking a little bit lately about just how difficult it is to think or do or say anything that is truly original. The world has been around a pretty long time. And there have been many, many people that are smarter and more talented and more creative than I am. So chances are, nothing I do is going to be something that a million others haven't already done. For example, a couple posts ago I wrote about my theory on time and about how time seems to move faster as we get older because it's a smaller percentage of our lives. Probably not a groundbreaking concept, but not a bad idea, I think. In the following several days, I was informed by two people (Jackie and Tom) that they too had thought about this. So if two of my five readers have already had this same idea, I can safely assume that 40% of the world's population has thought the same thing. So my theory on time is less original than eating turkey on Thanksgiving.
Also, our freshman year, Charlie wrote a line for a paper that was something along the lines of "Jesus was crucified for our salvation and resurrected for our hope." It's a good quote. Really good, actually. So I jokingly questioned that Charlie had thought of it himself. When we googled it, we found that someone else had already said pretty much the exact same thing. Now I really don't think that Charlie stole the sentence. Someone had just unfortunately beat him to the punch.
However, there are some people that truly do come up with original ideas and who are genuinely creative in a way the world has never seen before. At some point, Eli Whitney had to sit down and invent the cotton gin. Beethoven had to write his symphonies. Dave Thomas had to create square hamburger patties. These people were pioneers. Whereas I recycle decades-old ideas on my blog, they brought something new and fresh to society. So to all you writers, artists, musicians, inventors, and everyone else that churn out original ideas: I salute you. I mean, without you, television would just be filled with the same, ridiculous reality dating shows where one dude dates twenty women until he eliminates all but one.
Oh wait. I guess that's really all that's on TV. My bad.
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