For the past three days, Ozark's campus has been hosting its annual Preaching & Teaching Convention. This means several things. 1) We get two days of having classes canceled. So that's pretty sweet. 2) My old ministers come to town and bring me goodie-baskets or take me out to lunch. So that's also pretty sweet. 3) I make terrible use of my time without class and end up getting behind on schoolwork. Not so sweet. 4) I am humbled once again. The convention is like the Ozark All-Star Game as tons of alumni show up on campus. It's easy for me to think that I'm so smart and so talented and that I know all about doing ministry and that I'm so great because a dozen people read my blog. But a lot of these guys have been doing it for 50 years, and I'm reminded that I'm just a young pup that has a lot to learn and a long way to go.
For the convention, yesterday I attended a workshop taught by Lynn Gardner about writing, particularly about writing for publication. Lynn used to be the academic dean at Ozark and he just finished writing his seventh book. He also routinely comes to the library on campus on Fridays, which is when I happen to work there, and he's super-nice. Here's a couple things I learned: First, Lynn talked about how the bulk of good writing revolves around rewriting. On a first draft, a writer should just get ideas down on paper, and it doesn't have to be that good. The quality comes through editing and revising. He said, "There is no good writing, only good rewriting." This is very unfortunate for someone like me, because I hate editing my own writing. I pretty much never read back over anything I write; I either print it off and hand it in or hit the "Publish Post" button at the bottom of my screen. So when you read stuff on here and see a blatant misspelling or missing word, just know that it's usually not because I'm an idiot. I'm just lazy. Another thing I learned at the workshop is that the opening paragraph of any writing is especially important because an editor will often make a judgment of the whole work from that paragraph. This is also unfortunate for me because as I'm sure you've noticed if you've been reading my posts for awhile, my introductions almost never have anything to do with the rest of my post. All of this to say that you probably shouldn't be looking for any books being published by me in the near future, or in the distant future, for that matter.
In a freak set of circumstances, however, this concept of writing actually is loosely connected with what I want to write about today. A while back I was struck by Isaiah 8:18, which says, "Here am I, and the children the LORD has given me. We are signs and symbols in Israel from the LORD Almighty, who dwells on Mount Zion."
I have a fancy-looking red dictionary that sits on my shelf that I rarely use. I somehow got it for free in high school, and I'm thankful for it because it makes me look more like a scholar to have a dictionary on my shelf. Here's what it says about the word "symbol": "1. One that represents something else by association, resemblance, or convention, esp. a material object representing something invisible. 2. A printed or written sign used to represent an operation, element, quantity, quality, or relation, as in mathematics or music." And then there's some definition related to psychology that has nothing to do with Isaiah.
Now I am neither a Phoenician nor a phonetician. But here's something I think I understand about language: Right now you're looking at symbols. Letters are symbols; in themselves, they are only scratches on notepads or pixels on a screen. They symbolize sounds, and you can put them together to make words and sentences which symbolize ideas. And Isaiah says that's sort of what his own life is like. As a prophet, he's a symbol of God to Israel.
I think the same is true of us as Christians. We are signs and symbols of God to the world. We are letters that God has written to humanity. People understand something about God by looking at us. Like an author pushing his pen to paper and beginning to write, the Holy Spirit has inscribed our hearts and souls to deliver a message to others. We are God's words, not in the sense that the Bible is God's Word or that Jesus is the Logos Word, but the world reads about God by watching us. To those without knowledge of their Creator we are symbols, standing in place of God to convey a message of his love and grace.
So I guess this is the question: What sort of God are we symbolizing? What picture of God do people perceive by reading us? Do they see a materialistic God that loves new clothes and new books and new cars and new phones? Do they see a self-consumed God that looks out for his own interests at the expense of everyone else's? Do they see a duplicitous God that feigns righteousness but puts on another mask when your back is turned? Do they see a distant God that goes about his own business alone? Or do they see a self-sacrificing God that gives himself to take on the punishment for those he loves?
It's a challenging proposition. A terrifying one, in fact. We're a people that enjoy our breaks--coffee breaks, study breaks, nap breaks, potty breaks, etc. But this business of being a symbol of God does not allow for breaks. We are books that are never closed. We are more like those marquee signs that continuously scroll words in mutli-color letters. People constantly watch us, gleaning messages about God through our lives. So let God write his words in your life and clear out space for him to continue his story through out. After all, who doesn't like a good book?
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Exploding Boxes
What is it that makes someone the person that they are? It's an important question, because the way in which we answer it largely determines how we relate with and understand one another. We all need a starting point, after all. In acquaintances, friendships, relationships, and ministry, we need to have some concept of how to approach another person. We need a framework for interaction.
Multiple answers are proposed as to what lays at the root of a person. Some people would say it's all about culture, so in order to successfully interact with another person, it's necessary to have a handle on their cultural context. As I've mentioned before, I was in New York City last month for a class. The name of the class was "Exegeting the City." Basically, all week we talked about how to interpret culture, specifically in an urban setting. When you really looking at it, it's a little overwhelming to consider how many facets there are to culture. Music, food, money, family, ethnicity, fashion, etc. It all makes up culture. Our cultures are so ingrained within each one of us, it hard to even separate cultural issues from the rest of perception.
Interpreting culture is obviously important, especially when we attempt to cross culture in order to understand people different than us. Damage is done when a person imposes his own culture over another instead of trying to understand the other culture and work within it. A middle-aged Italian immigrant restaurant owner living in NYC is different than a black high school kid in Memphis, and both are different from a Chinese business owner in Shanghai. As we interact with one another, and as we minister to others, we have to exegete culture.
Another way we might understand others is through personality classification. When I was on camp teams a couple years ago, we did a lot with personality types, and since this year's new camp teams just had their winter retreat and did the same thing, I've been hearing about this topic once again. For camp teams, we used a color scheme to categorize personality types. I was a green, which means that I think a lot and am sort of a sarcastic jerk. Coincidentally, in the first blog post I wrote, I mentioned that part of the reason I was starting a blog was that I was a green personality and needed a means of getting out all the stuff I'm supposed to be thinking about. (That's just a little fact for you trivia fans.)
Last year I went on Ozark's "Spiritual Formation Retreat," and once we talked a lot about personality by using the Myers-Briggs paradigm. In this personality test, you get four letters that are supposed to describe your personality. I discovered that my personality is ISTJ. The I is for introverted, which means I like myself more than I like other people. The S is for sensing, which means that I live in reality. The T is for thinking, which means I'm not wishy-washy. And the J confuses me, but I think it means I'm more of a thinker than a sensor, whatever that means. Perhaps unfortunately, at the retreat they had a sheet that said what personality types go are best suited for different ministries. The one for youth ministry was ENFP--my exact opposite. Hm.
One problem with all this personality talk is that it makes everyone who learns about it into amateur psychologists. Everyone starts analyzing each other. "Oh, you would say that. After all, you are an ESTP." It's like there's a bunch of incarnate Jungs running around. Heck, who needs a college degree if you've spent a day studying personality?
As with cultural interpretation, personality analysis has value. People are naturally wired in different ways, and all the different types are important. But they do need to be dealt with in different ways. I would imagine that people who are more emotional could get frustrated by someone like me, who keeps things to himself until he unleashes is wrath on his blog.
There is a problem with both cultural interpretation and personality analysis, however. They just don't go far enough. They each have value, but they're not the end. They can only take you so far because they still group people into huge categories. There are countless ways to break down culture, and there are tons of different personality types, but there are still more people. So we need something more than cultural exegesis, and we need something more than personality exegesis. We need individual exegesis. Two people can belong to the same culture, and even have the same basic personality type, but they could still be drastically different individuals. Because what makes a person is more than these large categories. We can't be satisified with just placing others in boxes and leaving it at that.
I'm a 22-year-old white, middle class male that lives in Missouri. But that doesn't make all of who I am. I'm a green and an ISTJ. But that doesn't make all of who I am. My story makes me. The fact that I tripped while jumping rope in 1st grade and smashed my face into the gym floor has shaped me. The fact that I eat Taco Bell and Chick-fil-A each on a weekly basis adds to my identity. My interests, passions, experiences, habits, and dislikes make me me, and they don't all fit into the spheres of culture or personality.
So what does all of this mean? Simply that we learn to know each other more fully, both in our own interpersonal relationships and as we seek to minister to others. I can't say, "Well, this person is a blue/otter/INTJ, and he white and American and lower class" and think that I understand someone. I may be able to determine some things, but there is so much more. What baseball team does he like? How did he get that scar on his elbow? Who has influenced his life? What books (or blogs) does he read? People all have stories, and most want those stories to be known by at least someone. So it's our job to read them, not just to look at the table of contents.
But enough of all of that, because here's what I really wanted to talk about: Earlier this week my friend Jessie and I were discussing the game that you see at arcades where there are all of these lights in a giant ring, and the light speeds around the circle and you have to hit a button to try to get it to stop in one particular spot. It's the big-ticket item, because each time someone fails, the jackpot goes up. One lucky day on this game, and you'll win enough paper tickets to get as many plastic spider rings as your heart could desire. My question is this: How is this really much different than what happens in casinos? Kids take their money, exchange them for tokens, and then play this game hoping to hit the jackpot but end up walking away with nothing. Chuck E. Cheese's is nothing other than a gambling haven for minors. The kids who spend their time here only go on to spend it at the Indian casinos later. Now, it's fine if you want to let your kids go down to the arcade and blow their allowances on games of chance. Just don't complain when they're 35 years old and living in your basement.
Multiple answers are proposed as to what lays at the root of a person. Some people would say it's all about culture, so in order to successfully interact with another person, it's necessary to have a handle on their cultural context. As I've mentioned before, I was in New York City last month for a class. The name of the class was "Exegeting the City." Basically, all week we talked about how to interpret culture, specifically in an urban setting. When you really looking at it, it's a little overwhelming to consider how many facets there are to culture. Music, food, money, family, ethnicity, fashion, etc. It all makes up culture. Our cultures are so ingrained within each one of us, it hard to even separate cultural issues from the rest of perception.
Interpreting culture is obviously important, especially when we attempt to cross culture in order to understand people different than us. Damage is done when a person imposes his own culture over another instead of trying to understand the other culture and work within it. A middle-aged Italian immigrant restaurant owner living in NYC is different than a black high school kid in Memphis, and both are different from a Chinese business owner in Shanghai. As we interact with one another, and as we minister to others, we have to exegete culture.
Another way we might understand others is through personality classification. When I was on camp teams a couple years ago, we did a lot with personality types, and since this year's new camp teams just had their winter retreat and did the same thing, I've been hearing about this topic once again. For camp teams, we used a color scheme to categorize personality types. I was a green, which means that I think a lot and am sort of a sarcastic jerk. Coincidentally, in the first blog post I wrote, I mentioned that part of the reason I was starting a blog was that I was a green personality and needed a means of getting out all the stuff I'm supposed to be thinking about. (That's just a little fact for you trivia fans.)
Last year I went on Ozark's "Spiritual Formation Retreat," and once we talked a lot about personality by using the Myers-Briggs paradigm. In this personality test, you get four letters that are supposed to describe your personality. I discovered that my personality is ISTJ. The I is for introverted, which means I like myself more than I like other people. The S is for sensing, which means that I live in reality. The T is for thinking, which means I'm not wishy-washy. And the J confuses me, but I think it means I'm more of a thinker than a sensor, whatever that means. Perhaps unfortunately, at the retreat they had a sheet that said what personality types go are best suited for different ministries. The one for youth ministry was ENFP--my exact opposite. Hm.
One problem with all this personality talk is that it makes everyone who learns about it into amateur psychologists. Everyone starts analyzing each other. "Oh, you would say that. After all, you are an ESTP." It's like there's a bunch of incarnate Jungs running around. Heck, who needs a college degree if you've spent a day studying personality?
As with cultural interpretation, personality analysis has value. People are naturally wired in different ways, and all the different types are important. But they do need to be dealt with in different ways. I would imagine that people who are more emotional could get frustrated by someone like me, who keeps things to himself until he unleashes is wrath on his blog.
There is a problem with both cultural interpretation and personality analysis, however. They just don't go far enough. They each have value, but they're not the end. They can only take you so far because they still group people into huge categories. There are countless ways to break down culture, and there are tons of different personality types, but there are still more people. So we need something more than cultural exegesis, and we need something more than personality exegesis. We need individual exegesis. Two people can belong to the same culture, and even have the same basic personality type, but they could still be drastically different individuals. Because what makes a person is more than these large categories. We can't be satisified with just placing others in boxes and leaving it at that.
I'm a 22-year-old white, middle class male that lives in Missouri. But that doesn't make all of who I am. I'm a green and an ISTJ. But that doesn't make all of who I am. My story makes me. The fact that I tripped while jumping rope in 1st grade and smashed my face into the gym floor has shaped me. The fact that I eat Taco Bell and Chick-fil-A each on a weekly basis adds to my identity. My interests, passions, experiences, habits, and dislikes make me me, and they don't all fit into the spheres of culture or personality.
So what does all of this mean? Simply that we learn to know each other more fully, both in our own interpersonal relationships and as we seek to minister to others. I can't say, "Well, this person is a blue/otter/INTJ, and he white and American and lower class" and think that I understand someone. I may be able to determine some things, but there is so much more. What baseball team does he like? How did he get that scar on his elbow? Who has influenced his life? What books (or blogs) does he read? People all have stories, and most want those stories to be known by at least someone. So it's our job to read them, not just to look at the table of contents.
But enough of all of that, because here's what I really wanted to talk about: Earlier this week my friend Jessie and I were discussing the game that you see at arcades where there are all of these lights in a giant ring, and the light speeds around the circle and you have to hit a button to try to get it to stop in one particular spot. It's the big-ticket item, because each time someone fails, the jackpot goes up. One lucky day on this game, and you'll win enough paper tickets to get as many plastic spider rings as your heart could desire. My question is this: How is this really much different than what happens in casinos? Kids take their money, exchange them for tokens, and then play this game hoping to hit the jackpot but end up walking away with nothing. Chuck E. Cheese's is nothing other than a gambling haven for minors. The kids who spend their time here only go on to spend it at the Indian casinos later. Now, it's fine if you want to let your kids go down to the arcade and blow their allowances on games of chance. Just don't complain when they're 35 years old and living in your basement.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Is It Sad to Eat a Heart-Shaped Pizza Alone?
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, a day loved by some, hated by many. In order to celebrate, I decided that I would use a post to impart to you some practical knowledge. So below, I am going to write out everything I know about women, and about being in a relationship with one:
Well, I hope you learned something. Happy Valentine's Day.
Well, I hope you learned something. Happy Valentine's Day.
Monday, January 25, 2010
For the Ladies
This post marks a first for A Chicken in a Cage With a Ferret, in that this is the first time I have taken up a co-author, my dear friend Caitlyn. I'm not totally sure how co-authorship is supposed to work. How can two people compose one body of text? Maybe she and I should be sitting together at my computer, and I could type all the letters on the left side of the keyboard, and she could type the ones on the right side. That seems like a very tedious undertaking, however, so I'll let all of you know how this is working. What follows is made up mostly of Caitlyn's ideas, with a few of mine scattered in, while most of the actual words are mine, with some of hers scattered in. Her idea wrapped up in my words. It's like taking a beauty queen and dressing her up in a burlap sack, I'm sure.
Captivated.
That isn't a word I use frequently. In fact, it's a word I rarely hear from guys in general. How often do you hear men at the sports bar yell things like, "Wow, I am completely captivated by that touchdown catch!" No, this is a term relegated more to the female vernacular, as evidenced by the book written by John and Stasi Eldredge called Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul, bearing a cover complete with blue sky, grassy meadow, and unrealistic castle. This idea of captivation lies at the root of little girls' dreams. Women desire to be both captivated and captivating, to fall head over heels for Mr. Right and to be adored as beautiful and pure, to live the plot of a romantic comedy. It's a term that dwells in the realm of Disney princesses.
By all of this, I don't mean that the idea of being captivated is wimpy or fluffy. Obviously, the word "captivate" is related to "captive." To be captivated is, in a sense, to be made captive, and thus, in its popular usage, to be made prisoner to Cupid's twisted schemes. In Ephesians 3:1, Paul writes of being captivated/made captive by something else when he writes, "For this reason, I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus for the sake of you Gentiles." Paul was captivated by Christ. His words, thoughts, actions--his entire life--was centered on his Savior. In light of the God who was so captivated by him that he died in his place, Paul has no choice to be be completely entranced by and submissive to Jesus. His aim is that every waking moment be devoted to Christ.
That's what our lives as Christ-followers are meant to look like. As ones in which we are completely captivated by Christ. A problem arises, however, when we allow ourselves to be captivated by lesser things. It happens to us all the time--we see something that looks nice and that promises fulfillment and pleasure, and we become enchanted by it to the point that we lose sight of God. This is what the problem has been from the start really, from the time Eve "saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom" (Gen. 3:6). Influenced by Satan's lies and empty promises, Eve became captivated by the fruit and the thought of becoming like God. Instead of being captivated with God, she became captivated by a false god and led Adam and all mankind into sin and separation from God.
Of course, we can also become captivated by things that are not sinful. In themselves, these lures are innocuous, but they still have the potential to draw our attention and devotion away from Christ. For example, a dedicated Christian may become captivated by the cute blonde that sits in the front row, so they date and she eventually draws him away from the church and chips away at his dedication to Christ. Or an aspiring young go-getter becomes captivated by the thought of making money, so he blows off a life of ministry in favor of the pursuit of wealth. Or an intellectual can become so absorbed in the accumulation of knowledge that she loses sight of what it means to live as a captive of Christ.
We're made to be captivated by Christ. All of these other things that we tend to become captivated by prove to be dry wells. They promise satisfaction and esteem and comfort and fulfillment, but they always fall short; they always disappoint. After writing that God does not tempt anyone to sin, Jesus' brother James writes, "but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death" (Jas. 1:14-15). These captivating sins promise blessing but deliver death, and the seemingly harmless sirens of life do the same by pulling us away from our Creator.
In that same passage, James goes on to write, "Don't be deceived, my dear brothers. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows" (1:16-17). Since these verses are the beginning of a new paragraph in the NIV, it can be easy to miss the connection with what comes before it. Sin promises good things but is unable to make good on that promise. It promises life and bestows death. God, on the other hand, is the giver of good gifts. He has our best interests at heart. While Satan uses sins and distractions to ruin our lives, Christ gives us life in its fullest. So we have a choice. We can be captive to the one who wants to make our lives suck, or to the God who loves us and gave himself for us. In all those romantic comedies I mentioned earlier, the girl has a choice to be with the guy who loves her and honors her, or with the guy who can only offer a life of disappointment and regret (at least that's what I've heard; I haven't wanted very many movies belong to said genre). And all the girls in the audience shed tears of joy when she chooses correctly, so I can only imagine the joy in Christ's eyes we we choose the happy ending.
Captivated.
That isn't a word I use frequently. In fact, it's a word I rarely hear from guys in general. How often do you hear men at the sports bar yell things like, "Wow, I am completely captivated by that touchdown catch!" No, this is a term relegated more to the female vernacular, as evidenced by the book written by John and Stasi Eldredge called Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul, bearing a cover complete with blue sky, grassy meadow, and unrealistic castle. This idea of captivation lies at the root of little girls' dreams. Women desire to be both captivated and captivating, to fall head over heels for Mr. Right and to be adored as beautiful and pure, to live the plot of a romantic comedy. It's a term that dwells in the realm of Disney princesses.
By all of this, I don't mean that the idea of being captivated is wimpy or fluffy. Obviously, the word "captivate" is related to "captive." To be captivated is, in a sense, to be made captive, and thus, in its popular usage, to be made prisoner to Cupid's twisted schemes. In Ephesians 3:1, Paul writes of being captivated/made captive by something else when he writes, "For this reason, I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus for the sake of you Gentiles." Paul was captivated by Christ. His words, thoughts, actions--his entire life--was centered on his Savior. In light of the God who was so captivated by him that he died in his place, Paul has no choice to be be completely entranced by and submissive to Jesus. His aim is that every waking moment be devoted to Christ.
That's what our lives as Christ-followers are meant to look like. As ones in which we are completely captivated by Christ. A problem arises, however, when we allow ourselves to be captivated by lesser things. It happens to us all the time--we see something that looks nice and that promises fulfillment and pleasure, and we become enchanted by it to the point that we lose sight of God. This is what the problem has been from the start really, from the time Eve "saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom" (Gen. 3:6). Influenced by Satan's lies and empty promises, Eve became captivated by the fruit and the thought of becoming like God. Instead of being captivated with God, she became captivated by a false god and led Adam and all mankind into sin and separation from God.
Of course, we can also become captivated by things that are not sinful. In themselves, these lures are innocuous, but they still have the potential to draw our attention and devotion away from Christ. For example, a dedicated Christian may become captivated by the cute blonde that sits in the front row, so they date and she eventually draws him away from the church and chips away at his dedication to Christ. Or an aspiring young go-getter becomes captivated by the thought of making money, so he blows off a life of ministry in favor of the pursuit of wealth. Or an intellectual can become so absorbed in the accumulation of knowledge that she loses sight of what it means to live as a captive of Christ.
We're made to be captivated by Christ. All of these other things that we tend to become captivated by prove to be dry wells. They promise satisfaction and esteem and comfort and fulfillment, but they always fall short; they always disappoint. After writing that God does not tempt anyone to sin, Jesus' brother James writes, "but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death" (Jas. 1:14-15). These captivating sins promise blessing but deliver death, and the seemingly harmless sirens of life do the same by pulling us away from our Creator.
In that same passage, James goes on to write, "Don't be deceived, my dear brothers. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows" (1:16-17). Since these verses are the beginning of a new paragraph in the NIV, it can be easy to miss the connection with what comes before it. Sin promises good things but is unable to make good on that promise. It promises life and bestows death. God, on the other hand, is the giver of good gifts. He has our best interests at heart. While Satan uses sins and distractions to ruin our lives, Christ gives us life in its fullest. So we have a choice. We can be captive to the one who wants to make our lives suck, or to the God who loves us and gave himself for us. In all those romantic comedies I mentioned earlier, the girl has a choice to be with the guy who loves her and honors her, or with the guy who can only offer a life of disappointment and regret (at least that's what I've heard; I haven't wanted very many movies belong to said genre). And all the girls in the audience shed tears of joy when she chooses correctly, so I can only imagine the joy in Christ's eyes we we choose the happy ending.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Praying Better
"And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints. Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should."
-Ephesians 6:18-20.
It's funny how things work together sometimes. Because of an experience I had while in New York last week, I had planned to write a post about prayer today, and at church yesterday morning, the focus was also put on prayer, with the above passage being the text for the sermon. Apparently, this is a thought that God especially wants to drill into my head.
The truth is that I'm a poor pray-er. (I'm also afraid that this post could be terribly confusing in that "prayer" in the sense of "one who prays" looks exactly the same as "prayer" as "a petition made to God." So when I mean the former sense, I'll write it as "pray-er.") But honestly, one of the many failings in my life is that I need to learn to pray better. That phrase "pray better" sounds inappropriate because, after all, aren't all prayers precious? Isn't any prayer a good one? Maybe so, but some prayer lives are weaker than others, and I know that there is a great deal of room to grow in mine, and I know all of us have at least some need for maturation in how we pray. I know that for me, my prayers are far too infrequent, bland, vague, and wishy-washy. When I do pray, my thoughts are bombarded by daydreams and distractions, and I hurry through the whole ordeal so that I can get to something else. Very different from the devotion and focus that the Bible calls us to and that Jesus exemplified.
I was in New York City last week for a class. New York was amazing, and the trip will probably be influencing my next few posts. One of my favorite times of the week was Tuesday evening when our class attended the prayer service at Brooklyn Tabernacle. The pastor at Brooklyn Tabernacle is a guy named Jim Cymbala, who wrote a book called Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire. It's all about how the church grew dramatically because of constant, powerful prayer. Prayer lies at the foundation of Brooklyn Tabernacle; it's its lifeblood and fuel. Walking into the building, the most noticeable feature was that almost the entire congregation was black. In part because of that culture, and in part because of other factors, the way the people prayed was a little different than what I was used to. None of it was done in a way that attracted attention to the pray-ers, nor was it chaotic. But people were crying out to God in ways that are not often seen in churches I have been to, and it was both refreshing and challenging. There was an especially powerful time of prayer because Tuesday was the day of the earthquake the devastated Haiti, and they had all of the people at Brooklyn Tabernacle from that nation go up on stage and the entire church prayed for that situation.
While it's unfortunate to say, many church in America come nowhere close to the dedication to prayer present at Brooklyn Tabernacle. In many churches, prayer functions as a time of transition between segments of the service than it does as a dynamic means of communication with God. We use it as a means to let the worship band get to their instruments while congregants have their eyes closed, or we use it to recap the three main points of our sermon before the invitation hymn. At Brooklyn Tabernacle, however, it's at the center. They have awareness of needs both in the world and among themselves, and they pray faithfully, truly believing that God is able and willing to reach into the world and make existence better, to allow his kingdom to be come. Their prayers are rich, not because they use King James-y language or lift up their hands, but because they pray heartfelt, earnest, urgent prayers. Conversely, in our prayers, both individually and corporately, we use a lot of words to say very little. I spend time in prayer and later think, "Man, I don't really even feel like I prayed for anything."
Although done differently than Brooklyn Tabernacle, we had a pretty great prayer experience at Carterville yesterday. As I mentioned, the topic for the day was prayer, and throughout the worship service, times of prayer were mixed in among the songs. So we would sing a song, and one of the leaders would say a few things, and then we would spend time in prayer for things like Haiti or families or how God can use us. Prayer was intertwined with the rest of the service. And I think that's sort of how prayer should work its way into our lives. Prayer needs to be the underlying fabric that weaves itself throughout our days. Ongoing conversation with God, not just a few minutes of filler.
Maybe the best way to become a better pray-er is to be around good pray-ers. I had that opportunity a couple years ago when I was on Ozark's camp teams with two girls who were great pray-ers, and I learned a lot about prayer from both of them. Joni modeled a life of specific and faithful prayer. While others may pray things like, "God, help me be a good witness for you," she would pray something like, "God, give me an opportunity to speak with So-and-So this week, and give me the words to say." And then she would really believe that God would answer that prayer. Maybe the reason our prayers aren't as effective as we would like is that we present foggy requests instead of specific ones.
From the other girl on my camp team, Kaylene, I was able to see the importance of persistence in prayer. Jesus talked about that when he told a story about a widow repeatedly pleading to a judge that she be given justice. For a long time the judge denies her request, but eventually he obliges. There is value in continuing to ask for something, and thankfully, God doesn't get annoyed with our constant requests as easily as most parents do with their children. But faith is proven most in silence, when we don't know if God will work things out the way we expect, but we continue to pray.
Last year I read The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence, and if you want to be challenged and inspired by someone who had this prayer thing down, I highly recommend it. It's an area where none of us are at complete maturation, and as with most aspects of being a Christian, we need to grow in it every day.
I mentioned a while back about the possibility of my friend Caitlyn and I co-writing a post together. She's smarter than me in a lot of ways, and she said that she finally has an idea, so we'll be working on that for next time. Try to contain your excitement. I know it's hard.
-Ephesians 6:18-20.
It's funny how things work together sometimes. Because of an experience I had while in New York last week, I had planned to write a post about prayer today, and at church yesterday morning, the focus was also put on prayer, with the above passage being the text for the sermon. Apparently, this is a thought that God especially wants to drill into my head.
The truth is that I'm a poor pray-er. (I'm also afraid that this post could be terribly confusing in that "prayer" in the sense of "one who prays" looks exactly the same as "prayer" as "a petition made to God." So when I mean the former sense, I'll write it as "pray-er.") But honestly, one of the many failings in my life is that I need to learn to pray better. That phrase "pray better" sounds inappropriate because, after all, aren't all prayers precious? Isn't any prayer a good one? Maybe so, but some prayer lives are weaker than others, and I know that there is a great deal of room to grow in mine, and I know all of us have at least some need for maturation in how we pray. I know that for me, my prayers are far too infrequent, bland, vague, and wishy-washy. When I do pray, my thoughts are bombarded by daydreams and distractions, and I hurry through the whole ordeal so that I can get to something else. Very different from the devotion and focus that the Bible calls us to and that Jesus exemplified.
I was in New York City last week for a class. New York was amazing, and the trip will probably be influencing my next few posts. One of my favorite times of the week was Tuesday evening when our class attended the prayer service at Brooklyn Tabernacle. The pastor at Brooklyn Tabernacle is a guy named Jim Cymbala, who wrote a book called Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire. It's all about how the church grew dramatically because of constant, powerful prayer. Prayer lies at the foundation of Brooklyn Tabernacle; it's its lifeblood and fuel. Walking into the building, the most noticeable feature was that almost the entire congregation was black. In part because of that culture, and in part because of other factors, the way the people prayed was a little different than what I was used to. None of it was done in a way that attracted attention to the pray-ers, nor was it chaotic. But people were crying out to God in ways that are not often seen in churches I have been to, and it was both refreshing and challenging. There was an especially powerful time of prayer because Tuesday was the day of the earthquake the devastated Haiti, and they had all of the people at Brooklyn Tabernacle from that nation go up on stage and the entire church prayed for that situation.
While it's unfortunate to say, many church in America come nowhere close to the dedication to prayer present at Brooklyn Tabernacle. In many churches, prayer functions as a time of transition between segments of the service than it does as a dynamic means of communication with God. We use it as a means to let the worship band get to their instruments while congregants have their eyes closed, or we use it to recap the three main points of our sermon before the invitation hymn. At Brooklyn Tabernacle, however, it's at the center. They have awareness of needs both in the world and among themselves, and they pray faithfully, truly believing that God is able and willing to reach into the world and make existence better, to allow his kingdom to be come. Their prayers are rich, not because they use King James-y language or lift up their hands, but because they pray heartfelt, earnest, urgent prayers. Conversely, in our prayers, both individually and corporately, we use a lot of words to say very little. I spend time in prayer and later think, "Man, I don't really even feel like I prayed for anything."
Although done differently than Brooklyn Tabernacle, we had a pretty great prayer experience at Carterville yesterday. As I mentioned, the topic for the day was prayer, and throughout the worship service, times of prayer were mixed in among the songs. So we would sing a song, and one of the leaders would say a few things, and then we would spend time in prayer for things like Haiti or families or how God can use us. Prayer was intertwined with the rest of the service. And I think that's sort of how prayer should work its way into our lives. Prayer needs to be the underlying fabric that weaves itself throughout our days. Ongoing conversation with God, not just a few minutes of filler.
Maybe the best way to become a better pray-er is to be around good pray-ers. I had that opportunity a couple years ago when I was on Ozark's camp teams with two girls who were great pray-ers, and I learned a lot about prayer from both of them. Joni modeled a life of specific and faithful prayer. While others may pray things like, "God, help me be a good witness for you," she would pray something like, "God, give me an opportunity to speak with So-and-So this week, and give me the words to say." And then she would really believe that God would answer that prayer. Maybe the reason our prayers aren't as effective as we would like is that we present foggy requests instead of specific ones.
From the other girl on my camp team, Kaylene, I was able to see the importance of persistence in prayer. Jesus talked about that when he told a story about a widow repeatedly pleading to a judge that she be given justice. For a long time the judge denies her request, but eventually he obliges. There is value in continuing to ask for something, and thankfully, God doesn't get annoyed with our constant requests as easily as most parents do with their children. But faith is proven most in silence, when we don't know if God will work things out the way we expect, but we continue to pray.
Last year I read The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence, and if you want to be challenged and inspired by someone who had this prayer thing down, I highly recommend it. It's an area where none of us are at complete maturation, and as with most aspects of being a Christian, we need to grow in it every day.
I mentioned a while back about the possibility of my friend Caitlyn and I co-writing a post together. She's smarter than me in a lot of ways, and she said that she finally has an idea, so we'll be working on that for next time. Try to contain your excitement. I know it's hard.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
This Isn't the Church
In the "Blog Archive" section on the right, there's now a drop-arrow for 2010. How momentous.
It's a new year, a new decade, and nearly a new semester. My winter break is churning along toward its end, as I will be returning to Joplin on Saturday. I've enjoyed my break. It's nice to be able to sit around all day with no real concerns, especially after a semester as out of control as the last one. But I'm not very good with being at home for long periods of time. I can only take all the cats so long, and due in part to the three snowfalls we've had since I've been here, I've got a bit of cabin fever. That will be remedied soon, however, and the really exciting part is that I will be heading to New York City on Sunday for a week-long class on urban ministry. I absolutely love big cities, and though I've sort of been through parts of NYC before, I've never been to Manhattan, and I can't wait to eat the pizza, hot dogs from the vendors, and bagels the size of my head. Actually, I guess I just really like food, and I'm ready for something besides the corn dogs from my freezer.
In preparation for this class, I've had to do some reading during my break. The first book I read was called Key Concepts in Urban Studies. Most of it was pretty tedious reading, especially since a lot of it dealt with economic concepts, and all of that just goes over my head. I have enough trouble remembering to pay my credit card bill. The other book I read is called Everyday Theology, edited by Kevin J. Vanhoozer. This one was thankfully much more enjoyable. It's all about how to gain a better understanding of culture by reading cultural texts and trends, and then how to connect this with theological thought. Most of the book is made up of essays written by different people, each identifying a cultural/text or trend and then explaining it theologically.
As I scanned the table of contents, one chapter that naturally piqued my interest was written by a guy named Justin A. Bailey and called "Welcome to the Blogosphere." Bailey writes a lot of good stuff (as evidenced by the frequent highlighter marks in my book), so I thought I would share some of it with you. He starts out by explaining how blogging became popular over time and how this participatory media has changed the way people receive and interpret news, and that part is all fine and dandy, but when it really gets interesting is when he starts connecting blogging with how we view the church and community. Bailey quotes a guy named Tim Bednar: "The phenomenon of blogging is transforming our expectations of church. Soon this meme--this product of our online spiritual formation--will emerge from our cyberchurch and transform the traditional church" (183).
I really enjoy maintaining this blog. As I've written before, it's at times therapeutic for me, and it forces me to think. If left to my own devices, I would sit on my couch all day every day watching reruns of 90's sitcoms. Instead, I have to remain as sharp as my meager ability allows me to, thinking critically about what I see and hear so that I can formulate an idea into a tidy 5-10 paragraphs. I know how rowdy you all get when I don't post for a couple weeks, so I've got to keep it coming, you know what I mean? And I really do hope that something on here somehow helps you, and I'm always encouraged when someone tells me that it has. I also love reading others' blogs, and it brings my heart joy when my Bloggolution sidebar shows that someone wrote something new. I hope that we all somehow become a little wiser by listening to each other in the life-conversation in this way. But I don't think anything that happens here can be an adequate substitute for what happens in the community of the church, and it's dangerous to think positively of a church shaped by blogs. They're not the same.
People are more apt to be open and honest with the online community than they are with actual people. The internet is a place for nameless, faceless dialogue. It's easier to type words into a textbox than to let them come from your lips. People will confess and discuss all sorts of things online that they wouldn't in the physical world. Why? We live in a world in which people put make-up over their bruises, where they hide its hurts and ills behind a smile and a handshake. Where they open themselves up online but not in our churches. Why? Bailey writes, "[...] we need to admit that one of the reasons why so many have gone online in search of community is that they have not found it in our churches" (184). Ouch. He then cites a comment that was left on a Christian blog:
The internet can't do what the church was designed to do. This blog can't give you a ride to the store when your car breaks down. It can't partake in the Lord's Supper with you. It can't sing to God with you. And it can't sit with you at Chick-fil-A and just talk about life with you. That's what we need to be doing in our community of the church--in our bodily, physical, breathing community. We need to be there for one another in real ways, and we need to show that real world where real community can be found, all the while reflecting our very real God. Because ethernet cables and Wi-Fi hotspots can only do so much, but the churc is meant to change the world.
A couple closing thoughts, one somewhat related to the rest of the post, and the other not at all. First, blogs themselves probably aren't as in vogue as they were several years ago. You might remember when everyone and their pet gerbil had a Xanga account. Nowadays, the world of online community is dominated by our common friend Mark Zuckerberg and his website called Facebook. Maybe you've heard of it. Anyways, when I was on the staff of my high school newspaper, I wrote a column about fads (like digital pets, Surge, Tickle-Me Elmo, etc.) In that column, I penned this brilliant prophecy:
Second, recently I was reading The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, which was first published in 1678. It's a Christian classic and is an allegorical account of Christian's journey from the City of Destruction to to the Celestial City. In one town, Christian and his traveling companion, Faithful, are mocked, beaten, locked in a cage, and put on trial before the people of the town have Faithful skinned, stoned, stabbed, and burned. What is the name of this town? Vanity Fair. It seems an odd titling choice to me that a women's fashion magazine would name itself after a literary place that imprisons, tortures, and kills Christians.
It's a new year, a new decade, and nearly a new semester. My winter break is churning along toward its end, as I will be returning to Joplin on Saturday. I've enjoyed my break. It's nice to be able to sit around all day with no real concerns, especially after a semester as out of control as the last one. But I'm not very good with being at home for long periods of time. I can only take all the cats so long, and due in part to the three snowfalls we've had since I've been here, I've got a bit of cabin fever. That will be remedied soon, however, and the really exciting part is that I will be heading to New York City on Sunday for a week-long class on urban ministry. I absolutely love big cities, and though I've sort of been through parts of NYC before, I've never been to Manhattan, and I can't wait to eat the pizza, hot dogs from the vendors, and bagels the size of my head. Actually, I guess I just really like food, and I'm ready for something besides the corn dogs from my freezer.
In preparation for this class, I've had to do some reading during my break. The first book I read was called Key Concepts in Urban Studies. Most of it was pretty tedious reading, especially since a lot of it dealt with economic concepts, and all of that just goes over my head. I have enough trouble remembering to pay my credit card bill. The other book I read is called Everyday Theology, edited by Kevin J. Vanhoozer. This one was thankfully much more enjoyable. It's all about how to gain a better understanding of culture by reading cultural texts and trends, and then how to connect this with theological thought. Most of the book is made up of essays written by different people, each identifying a cultural/text or trend and then explaining it theologically.
As I scanned the table of contents, one chapter that naturally piqued my interest was written by a guy named Justin A. Bailey and called "Welcome to the Blogosphere." Bailey writes a lot of good stuff (as evidenced by the frequent highlighter marks in my book), so I thought I would share some of it with you. He starts out by explaining how blogging became popular over time and how this participatory media has changed the way people receive and interpret news, and that part is all fine and dandy, but when it really gets interesting is when he starts connecting blogging with how we view the church and community. Bailey quotes a guy named Tim Bednar: "The phenomenon of blogging is transforming our expectations of church. Soon this meme--this product of our online spiritual formation--will emerge from our cyberchurch and transform the traditional church" (183).
I really enjoy maintaining this blog. As I've written before, it's at times therapeutic for me, and it forces me to think. If left to my own devices, I would sit on my couch all day every day watching reruns of 90's sitcoms. Instead, I have to remain as sharp as my meager ability allows me to, thinking critically about what I see and hear so that I can formulate an idea into a tidy 5-10 paragraphs. I know how rowdy you all get when I don't post for a couple weeks, so I've got to keep it coming, you know what I mean? And I really do hope that something on here somehow helps you, and I'm always encouraged when someone tells me that it has. I also love reading others' blogs, and it brings my heart joy when my Bloggolution sidebar shows that someone wrote something new. I hope that we all somehow become a little wiser by listening to each other in the life-conversation in this way. But I don't think anything that happens here can be an adequate substitute for what happens in the community of the church, and it's dangerous to think positively of a church shaped by blogs. They're not the same.
People are more apt to be open and honest with the online community than they are with actual people. The internet is a place for nameless, faceless dialogue. It's easier to type words into a textbox than to let them come from your lips. People will confess and discuss all sorts of things online that they wouldn't in the physical world. Why? We live in a world in which people put make-up over their bruises, where they hide its hurts and ills behind a smile and a handshake. Where they open themselves up online but not in our churches. Why? Bailey writes, "[...] we need to admit that one of the reasons why so many have gone online in search of community is that they have not found it in our churches" (184). Ouch. He then cites a comment that was left on a Christian blog:
There is the real world where I live which is broken, messy, scary, profane, filled with risk, sadness, loneliness, sickness, hate, fear, doubt, death, love, hope, mercy, grace, friends, faith and faithlessness....Then there is the church world. I haven't talked to anyone in that world about what is real in many, many years.If these revelations aren't extremely distressing to us as Christians, I don't know what would be. There's something wrong when, as people deal with this "real world," they can't find a real church to surround them. Instead, they bring their crap to the world of pixels and blogs and "I Like" buttons, because that's evidently where they find community. As followers of Jesus, it's our mandate to act like Jesus in tangible ways.
The internet can't do what the church was designed to do. This blog can't give you a ride to the store when your car breaks down. It can't partake in the Lord's Supper with you. It can't sing to God with you. And it can't sit with you at Chick-fil-A and just talk about life with you. That's what we need to be doing in our community of the church--in our bodily, physical, breathing community. We need to be there for one another in real ways, and we need to show that real world where real community can be found, all the while reflecting our very real God. Because ethernet cables and Wi-Fi hotspots can only do so much, but the churc is meant to change the world.
A couple closing thoughts, one somewhat related to the rest of the post, and the other not at all. First, blogs themselves probably aren't as in vogue as they were several years ago. You might remember when everyone and their pet gerbil had a Xanga account. Nowadays, the world of online community is dominated by our common friend Mark Zuckerberg and his website called Facebook. Maybe you've heard of it. Anyways, when I was on the staff of my high school newspaper, I wrote a column about fads (like digital pets, Surge, Tickle-Me Elmo, etc.) In that column, I penned this brilliant prophecy:
I hear a lot about facebook.com these days. At this website, all of these people can put up their picture and some information about themselves, and then other members call them their friends and leave little messages. And this is my question: Why? It seems to me that all it does is allow all of these people who are already your friends in real life come and call themselves your friends on the Internet. This concept is doomed to fail; facebook will soon become just another fad.Whoops.
Second, recently I was reading The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, which was first published in 1678. It's a Christian classic and is an allegorical account of Christian's journey from the City of Destruction to to the Celestial City. In one town, Christian and his traveling companion, Faithful, are mocked, beaten, locked in a cage, and put on trial before the people of the town have Faithful skinned, stoned, stabbed, and burned. What is the name of this town? Vanity Fair. It seems an odd titling choice to me that a women's fashion magazine would name itself after a literary place that imprisons, tortures, and kills Christians.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
It Was a Year
Today, the year, the decade, and my chances of winning the Landis college bowl picks competition are all drawing to a close. Because the decade is too broad for me to recap here, and because my bowl picks are too humiliating, it's time for review of 2009! This last semester, I was accused pretty frequently (meaning every day in my Strategies for Teaching class) of having become a dreary pessimist. So one my expect my reflections on the past year to be a catalogue of everything I didn't like about 2009. But the truth is that I have a good life, it was a good year, and there are a ton of great things for me to comment about from the last twelve months. Besides, I can just save the other list for my post next week.
Through high school and in my first couple years at Ozark, I heard everyone say how an overseas mission trip has the potential to be incredibly impacting. It's true, as I learned when I went to Honduras with a group of four other Ozark students last March. It's possible to have a pretty good understanding of the world while never leaving the U.S. due to the influence of globalization and the accessibility of information, pictures, and videos. But it really is another thing to actually see it. To see the sick people shoved in a hospital bed with next to no attention, to see the people hanging out on the sides of the broken streets winding up the mountains, to see the multitudes of kids at school chasing my teammates around in a Gulliver's Travels reenactment-style game of tag. There were also times of many laughs, such as I had the perfect outline of my watch marked on my skin due to a sunburn, or hearing the Hondurans try to differentiate between saying "beach" and cussing. Also, Honduras is maybe the most beautiful place I've ever been with it's combination of mountains, beach, and Domino's Pizza. I also had the best Chinese food I've ever tasted in my life, and for that reason, along with all the others, Honduras will remain a place very dear to me.
I'm surprised sometimes that the U.S. hasn't made Super Bowl Sunday at national holiday by now. Practically everyone celebrates, because so many people in our country like football, and if they don't like football, they at least like lil' smokies and crackers and cheese. Last year's Super Bowl was my favorite one, because, as you may remember, the Pittsburgh Steelers won on a game-winning drive capped by an incredible catch. Being a Steelers fan, I don't remember ever having been so happy about a sporting event in my life. No year can be all that bad that starts like that.
Through high school and in my first couple years at Ozark, I heard everyone say how an overseas mission trip has the potential to be incredibly impacting. It's true, as I learned when I went to Honduras with a group of four other Ozark students last March. It's possible to have a pretty good understanding of the world while never leaving the U.S. due to the influence of globalization and the accessibility of information, pictures, and videos. But it really is another thing to actually see it. To see the sick people shoved in a hospital bed with next to no attention, to see the people hanging out on the sides of the broken streets winding up the mountains, to see the multitudes of kids at school chasing my teammates around in a Gulliver's Travels reenactment-style game of tag. There were also times of many laughs, such as I had the perfect outline of my watch marked on my skin due to a sunburn, or hearing the Hondurans try to differentiate between saying "beach" and cussing. Also, Honduras is maybe the most beautiful place I've ever been with it's combination of mountains, beach, and Domino's Pizza. I also had the best Chinese food I've ever tasted in my life, and for that reason, along with all the others, Honduras will remain a place very dear to me.
I'm a big kid now. Or at least that's what my driver's license says. Due to this, it's no longer acceptable for me to spend my summers at home sleeping till noon and watching reruns of King of Queens all day (but thankfully, that still flies for winter break). So instead, I spent last summer doing an internship at University Christian Church in Manhattan, KS, and it was definitely a blessing. I had actually always wanted to do my internship there, so I was very grateful that it worked out. I learned all kinds of things, like how to prime a floor, use a caulking gun, and how to address and stamp stacks and stacks of mailings. But hopefully I also learned something about God and ministry. It definitely helped my self-esteem being able to walk around with a giant roll of keys to all the parts of the church.
In other parts of the country, the Midwest can sometimes be characterized as one vast farmland. Because I'm from Topeka, KS, I'm supposed to wear overalls every day, get my water from the pump out back every morning, and smoke a corncob pipe. When I realized that I was so culturally deprived, I decided to take a vacation to Southern California. I had never been before, and I had a lot of fun eating sushi for the first time, attending an obscenity-strewn improv comedy show, being the happiest I've ever been at the Happiest Place on Earth (though Disneyland isn't as good as places like Six Flags (also, In-and-Out isn't as good as Spangle's)), and awkwardly noticing two bikini-clad women wrestle at the beach ("Well, there's something you don't see in Kansas"). So I returned to my little house on the prairie that much more street-wise and culturally educated.
So that's more or less been my year. As I look back on what I've written, I realize that this is maybe the most self-centered post I've ever posted. So now I have to think of a way to make all of this somehow redeeming. First, once again, I'm thankful for all of you out there that helped make this year a good one. I've gotten to know a lot of my friends even better, and I've made new friends that I am also thankful for.
New years are filled with all sorts of new possibilities, dreams, and goals. This is a good thing, I think. It gives us a chance to refocus on what's important. So let's use the next year to love God and love people to the best of our abilities. I know a lot of my peers are going to be graduating this year and going out to serve God all over the world, so it'll be a really big year of change for them and for me. So bring it on, 2010! Granted, it's looking like a distant possibility of the year starting with another Steelers Super Bowl victory, so how good of a year can it really be?
The biggest question on everyone's mind, though, is whether we will refer to the oncoming year as "two-thousand-ten" or "twenty-ten." I'm in favor for the latter, but I don't know what the worldwide consensus is. Nor do I know who decides such things. But as influential at this blog is, I'm confident that tomorrow morning, we'll all be wishing each other a Happy Twenty-Ten.
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