Happy Saint Patrick's day, everyone!
Saint Patrick, if you don't know, was a real man, a Christian missionary who planted by some estimates in excess of seven hundred churches in the early fifth century. He grew up in Britain, but was captured by raiders as a teenager and taken as a slave to what is now Ireland, where he tended his master's flocks for six years, until the Lord directed him to a ship that took him back to his homeland. Years later, after being trained as a priest and missionary and participating in the triumph of orthodoxy over the Pelagian heresy, he felt compelled to return to the pagan Irish with the Gospel.
Of course, many legends later developed about Patrick, who probably did not use a shamrock to explain the Trinity, and who certainly did not drive out all the snakes from Ireland! March 17 is the traditionally-accepted date of his death and thus his Feast Day.
Raise a glass today to this brother, an old-school church planter, and pray that God will raise up many more Patricks to take the Gospel to places where it has yet to take hold.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Lent, Day 8: General and Special Revelation, Part 4
(Check out Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.)
The first category of special revelation is God's specific acts in history on behalf of and toward certain people, which reveal much more about his character and will than general revelation. These acts are broadly visible – even to those who are not the select recipients of the actions – objective, and historical. For example, God makes a covenant with Abram, binding himself by an oath to give Abram a land, a people, an inheritance, revealing himself as faithful and powerful. God acts miraculously to rescue Joseph from the schemes of his jealous brothers (Genesis 37:1ff), thereby saving his chosen people from a terrible famine, revealing his sovereignty and his purposes of election. He preserves his people through their enslavement in Egypt and punishes their captors, revealing his faithfulness, power, and wrath as he leads them out from slavery in the book of Exodus.
The second category of special revelation is that of internal or subjectively-experienced communication. These acts are visible or accessible only to the recipients, and encompass dreams and visions. These acts vary widely in intent. Certain visions and dreams communicate some hidden reality about the unseen spiritual realm, as in Jacob's vision of angels ascending and descending between earth and heaven. Sometimes they are prophetic in nature, communicating future events as they will unfold. Portions of the book of Revelation fit this sub-category, and most of the prophetic books of the Old Testament contain at least one account of a prophetic vision or dream. At times they are God's chosen means of giving specific instruction or direction, as when God speaks to Joseph in a dream to tell him to flee to Egypt with the child Jesus. Ezekiel's vision of the valley of dry bones, reveals God as one who breathes life into that which was dead – an essential component of his nature as a God who saves!
The third category of special revelation is direct divine speech, which we may subdivide into two further categories: that of audible communication of the voice of God, and that of the Scriptures, which are God's word in written form. We see the first example of this in the early chapters of Genesis, both before and after the Fall: God walks and talks with Adam in the garden before sin enters the world, and later confronts him and his wife Eve with their rebellion. God speaks audibly to many others as well: the boy Samuel, Saul on the road to Damascus, Peter on the rooftop. God also, incredibly, makes his exact words known to all who would care to “take up and read,” as Augustine was urged, through the Scriptures which he has preserved for his people!
The final category of special revelation we might call the final revelation or the telos of God's revelation: Jesus Christ himself, God in the flesh. The author of Hebrews says that God has spoken to us in these final days “through his Son.” John the Evangelist tells us that “the Word,” Jesus Christ, “became flesh and dwelt among us.” That is to say, God's ultimate communication of himself, through whom all things were created, came to earth “in the likeness of sinful flesh” (Romans 8:3). Jesus himself said that whoever has seen him has seen the Father – in other words, Jesus is the final and ultimate “revealer” of God the Father!
In the final accounting, those who misinterpreted God's revelation of himself, those whom God has not caused to understand general revelation rightly and who have not received the saving knowledge of God through special revelation, will beg for a “de-revelation” – a concealment of God's judgment and wrath! In his vision of the coming judgment, the Apostle John sees the reprobate fleeing, “calling to the mountains and rocks, 'Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who is seated on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb...'” (Revelation 6:16). But we, whom God in his mysterious purposes of grace has chosen, can, with all God's people, cry out for that day when we will look at last upon our saving King with unveiled faces: even so, come, Lord Jesus!
The first category of special revelation is God's specific acts in history on behalf of and toward certain people, which reveal much more about his character and will than general revelation. These acts are broadly visible – even to those who are not the select recipients of the actions – objective, and historical. For example, God makes a covenant with Abram, binding himself by an oath to give Abram a land, a people, an inheritance, revealing himself as faithful and powerful. God acts miraculously to rescue Joseph from the schemes of his jealous brothers (Genesis 37:1ff), thereby saving his chosen people from a terrible famine, revealing his sovereignty and his purposes of election. He preserves his people through their enslavement in Egypt and punishes their captors, revealing his faithfulness, power, and wrath as he leads them out from slavery in the book of Exodus.
The second category of special revelation is that of internal or subjectively-experienced communication. These acts are visible or accessible only to the recipients, and encompass dreams and visions. These acts vary widely in intent. Certain visions and dreams communicate some hidden reality about the unseen spiritual realm, as in Jacob's vision of angels ascending and descending between earth and heaven. Sometimes they are prophetic in nature, communicating future events as they will unfold. Portions of the book of Revelation fit this sub-category, and most of the prophetic books of the Old Testament contain at least one account of a prophetic vision or dream. At times they are God's chosen means of giving specific instruction or direction, as when God speaks to Joseph in a dream to tell him to flee to Egypt with the child Jesus. Ezekiel's vision of the valley of dry bones, reveals God as one who breathes life into that which was dead – an essential component of his nature as a God who saves!
The third category of special revelation is direct divine speech, which we may subdivide into two further categories: that of audible communication of the voice of God, and that of the Scriptures, which are God's word in written form. We see the first example of this in the early chapters of Genesis, both before and after the Fall: God walks and talks with Adam in the garden before sin enters the world, and later confronts him and his wife Eve with their rebellion. God speaks audibly to many others as well: the boy Samuel, Saul on the road to Damascus, Peter on the rooftop. God also, incredibly, makes his exact words known to all who would care to “take up and read,” as Augustine was urged, through the Scriptures which he has preserved for his people!
The final category of special revelation we might call the final revelation or the telos of God's revelation: Jesus Christ himself, God in the flesh. The author of Hebrews says that God has spoken to us in these final days “through his Son.” John the Evangelist tells us that “the Word,” Jesus Christ, “became flesh and dwelt among us.” That is to say, God's ultimate communication of himself, through whom all things were created, came to earth “in the likeness of sinful flesh” (Romans 8:3). Jesus himself said that whoever has seen him has seen the Father – in other words, Jesus is the final and ultimate “revealer” of God the Father!
In the final accounting, those who misinterpreted God's revelation of himself, those whom God has not caused to understand general revelation rightly and who have not received the saving knowledge of God through special revelation, will beg for a “de-revelation” – a concealment of God's judgment and wrath! In his vision of the coming judgment, the Apostle John sees the reprobate fleeing, “calling to the mountains and rocks, 'Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who is seated on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb...'” (Revelation 6:16). But we, whom God in his mysterious purposes of grace has chosen, can, with all God's people, cry out for that day when we will look at last upon our saving King with unveiled faces: even so, come, Lord Jesus!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Lent, Day 7: General and Special Revelation, Part 3
(Yesterday we looked at two further modes of general revelation. Today, we move to discussing special revelation, its definition and varieties.)
And yet, from the reprobate, the prophet Isaiah says, God hides himself. (45:15) In what way can Scripture say that God hides himself from those he guides so meticulously? To Israel, God says, “I did not speak in secret, in a land of darkness, I did not say to the offspring of Jacob, 'Seek me in vain.'” (v. 19) In other words, some elements of God's purpose and character are revealed only to his particular people, while those elements remain hidden to the unbelieving and the reprobate.
In fact, God's partial concealment of himself is not the only “problem” with general revelation as a category. Two others intrude on our ability to rightly understand God through his revelation to all people. First, on an objective level: from natural disasters, pestilence, and disease to human evil to poisonous plants and thorny ground, we experience the testimony of creation and God's providential care commingled with systemic and persistent trouble post-fall. Creation, the Scriptures tell us, “groans and suffers in pain” awaiting the day of consummation (Romans 8:22). In addition, our subjective ability to perceive it and respond rightly has been destroyed by sin. We have “eyes to see, but see not [...] ears to hear, but hear not” (Ezekiel 12:2). These so-called “noetic” effects of the Fall blind us to the universal messages of God's creation and providence, as well as our consciences and innate sense of the divine. Atheists and idolaters stand before stunning vistas, relish quotidian joys, and do good to their fellow-men, yet give no glory to the God to which these testimonies point.
Obviously, more is needed; general revelation alone cannot save. And that much-needed unique revelation of God's purpose and character is usually called “special revelation” – the acts of God whereby he reveals himself to certain people at certain times and places, with the intent of communicating all that is required for salvation. The category of special revelation is quite broad in its scope, and can be divided into four categories: external or historical events, internal or subjectively-experienced communication, divine speech, and the Incarnation of Christ.
Special revelation also has an eschatological quality. While we see specific and frequent examples of special revelation in the Old Testament, the prophets of old envision a coming day when the character of that revelation will change and grow – when God's revelation of himself will become even more “special,” so to speak, even more potent and intimate. And although God has fully revealed himself through Christ Jesus in those “latter days” of which the prophets spoke, we still await the consummation when we will no longer see “through a glass darkly” but rather “face to face.”
Tomorrow we'll wrap up this series with a more detailed look at the modes of special revelation.
And yet, from the reprobate, the prophet Isaiah says, God hides himself. (45:15) In what way can Scripture say that God hides himself from those he guides so meticulously? To Israel, God says, “I did not speak in secret, in a land of darkness, I did not say to the offspring of Jacob, 'Seek me in vain.'” (v. 19) In other words, some elements of God's purpose and character are revealed only to his particular people, while those elements remain hidden to the unbelieving and the reprobate.
In fact, God's partial concealment of himself is not the only “problem” with general revelation as a category. Two others intrude on our ability to rightly understand God through his revelation to all people. First, on an objective level: from natural disasters, pestilence, and disease to human evil to poisonous plants and thorny ground, we experience the testimony of creation and God's providential care commingled with systemic and persistent trouble post-fall. Creation, the Scriptures tell us, “groans and suffers in pain” awaiting the day of consummation (Romans 8:22). In addition, our subjective ability to perceive it and respond rightly has been destroyed by sin. We have “eyes to see, but see not [...] ears to hear, but hear not” (Ezekiel 12:2). These so-called “noetic” effects of the Fall blind us to the universal messages of God's creation and providence, as well as our consciences and innate sense of the divine. Atheists and idolaters stand before stunning vistas, relish quotidian joys, and do good to their fellow-men, yet give no glory to the God to which these testimonies point.
Obviously, more is needed; general revelation alone cannot save. And that much-needed unique revelation of God's purpose and character is usually called “special revelation” – the acts of God whereby he reveals himself to certain people at certain times and places, with the intent of communicating all that is required for salvation. The category of special revelation is quite broad in its scope, and can be divided into four categories: external or historical events, internal or subjectively-experienced communication, divine speech, and the Incarnation of Christ.
Special revelation also has an eschatological quality. While we see specific and frequent examples of special revelation in the Old Testament, the prophets of old envision a coming day when the character of that revelation will change and grow – when God's revelation of himself will become even more “special,” so to speak, even more potent and intimate. And although God has fully revealed himself through Christ Jesus in those “latter days” of which the prophets spoke, we still await the consummation when we will no longer see “through a glass darkly” but rather “face to face.”
Tomorrow we'll wrap up this series with a more detailed look at the modes of special revelation.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Lent, Day 6: General and Special Revelation, Part 2
(Yesterday I introduced the idea of General and Special Revelation, and talked about the first kind of general revelation, that of God's testimony to us in the things we can experience with our senses. Today we turn to inward modes of general revelation -- the conscience and sense of the divine.)
Just a few verses later, in Romans 2:12-16, Paul introduces us to the second method of general revelation. “For when Gentiles […] do what the law requires, they are a law to themselves,” Paul says. “They show that the word of the law is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness.” In other words, the human conscience, with its innate sense of right and wrong, reveals something about God. What, exactly, does it reveal? A moral code, of course, but also a coming day of judgment: “that day when […] God judges the secrets of men.” Unfortunately, although the consciences of men urge them to adhere to a moral code, they give faulty feedback: “Their conflicting thoughts accuse or even excuse them.”
Moreover, in addition to an innate sense of right and wrong, man has an innate sense of the divine. From the remotest antiquity to the modern age man has, to paraphrase Flannery O'Connor, a God-haunted history, replete with deities of every imaginable type, from Lucretius's intangible pantheon to the bloodthirsty demon-gods of animism. Paul, standing before the Athenian altar to an unknown god, examines this knowledge of the divine. “I perceive,” he says, “that you are very religious.” (Acts 17:22) Throughout the Old Testament, indeed, no atheistic nation exists; each has its own gods, its own cult and rituals, its own rules for approaching its gods.
The third method or mode of general revelation is God's providence, or the ways in which he cares for and guides the lives of all people. Jesus himself tells the crowds, in teaching them to do good to both friends and enemies, that the Father “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5:45) In an impromptu sermon in Lystra, Paul and Barnabas explain God's providence: “He did not leave himself without witness, for he did good by giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons.” (Acts 14:16-17).
And God's providence is not merely the vaguely benevolent oversight envisioned by the deist. In the same breath, Paul adds that God's providential care extends to “satisfying your hearts with food and gladness.” (v. 17) The source, therefore, of ordinary joys and daily bread, even for the unbeliever, is the “living God who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and all that is in them.” (v. 15) The ordering of world events and leaders also falls under the category of providential care. God casts down nations and kings, political and religious leaders (Psalm 56:7, Ezra 6:12, Lamentations 2:6). “The shields of earth” are in his control and he is exalted over them (Psalm 47:9). He raises up kings (1 Kings 11) and spiritual leaders (1 Samuel 2:35). He establishes the bounds of human authority and makes kings and politicians his servants (Romans 13:4).
Tomorrow we'll take a look at the category of special revelation.
Just a few verses later, in Romans 2:12-16, Paul introduces us to the second method of general revelation. “For when Gentiles […] do what the law requires, they are a law to themselves,” Paul says. “They show that the word of the law is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness.” In other words, the human conscience, with its innate sense of right and wrong, reveals something about God. What, exactly, does it reveal? A moral code, of course, but also a coming day of judgment: “that day when […] God judges the secrets of men.” Unfortunately, although the consciences of men urge them to adhere to a moral code, they give faulty feedback: “Their conflicting thoughts accuse or even excuse them.”
Moreover, in addition to an innate sense of right and wrong, man has an innate sense of the divine. From the remotest antiquity to the modern age man has, to paraphrase Flannery O'Connor, a God-haunted history, replete with deities of every imaginable type, from Lucretius's intangible pantheon to the bloodthirsty demon-gods of animism. Paul, standing before the Athenian altar to an unknown god, examines this knowledge of the divine. “I perceive,” he says, “that you are very religious.” (Acts 17:22) Throughout the Old Testament, indeed, no atheistic nation exists; each has its own gods, its own cult and rituals, its own rules for approaching its gods.
The third method or mode of general revelation is God's providence, or the ways in which he cares for and guides the lives of all people. Jesus himself tells the crowds, in teaching them to do good to both friends and enemies, that the Father “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5:45) In an impromptu sermon in Lystra, Paul and Barnabas explain God's providence: “He did not leave himself without witness, for he did good by giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons.” (Acts 14:16-17).
And God's providence is not merely the vaguely benevolent oversight envisioned by the deist. In the same breath, Paul adds that God's providential care extends to “satisfying your hearts with food and gladness.” (v. 17) The source, therefore, of ordinary joys and daily bread, even for the unbeliever, is the “living God who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and all that is in them.” (v. 15) The ordering of world events and leaders also falls under the category of providential care. God casts down nations and kings, political and religious leaders (Psalm 56:7, Ezra 6:12, Lamentations 2:6). “The shields of earth” are in his control and he is exalted over them (Psalm 47:9). He raises up kings (1 Kings 11) and spiritual leaders (1 Samuel 2:35). He establishes the bounds of human authority and makes kings and politicians his servants (Romans 13:4).
Tomorrow we'll take a look at the category of special revelation.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Lent, Day 5: General and Special Revelation, Part 1
Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers through the prophets,
but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son...
Hebrews 1:1-2
“You would not have called to me if I had not been calling to you,” said the Lion.
– C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair
Revelation is any act of God in revealing himself to people, thereby communicating himself to them. This implies, of course, that something of God would be hidden did he not reveal it. Scripture is clear, though, that all humanity knows something of God, that inherent in human experience is the realization that God exists and works in the world. This kind of revelation we call “general revelation:” when these acts of revelation apply to or are witnessed by all people. Special revelation, on the other hand, occurs when God reveals specific information about his character and will, communicating those details necessary for salvation. Both are part of God's character as creator: one who speaks the world into being and then communicates with his creation.
Broadly, we can divide general revelation into three categories: empirical, innate, and providential. Probably the type of revelation most commonly understood to be “general revelation” is that of God's revelation of himself in his creation – his revelation, that is, by empirical or observable evidence. David pictures creation as a herald of God's glory and handiwork in Psalm 19; the heavens “declare,” the expanse of sky “proclaims,” day “pours out speech,” night “reveals knowledge.” And not only to God's people do these elements of creation unceasingly communicate information about their creator! No, David insists: “There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard. Their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the ends of the world.” (v. 3-4)
Romans 1:18ff, in which Paul defends God's justice in judging sinners by demonstrating their rejection of God, and the consequences of this rejection, gives us a little more insight into further content of this revelation. “For what can be known about God is plain to them,” Paul argues, “because God has shown it to them […] in the things that have been made.” (Romans 1:19-20) What has God shown them through his creation? Paul explains: “His invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature.” To whom does this making-visible of God's “invisible attributes” apply? To all men, “since the creation of the world,” even those who will ultimately misuse and misinterpret this revelation and turn to idolatry and immorality – even, in short, the reprobate.
Tomorrow: God reveals himself through the human conscience and his providential care of mankind.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Lent, Day 4: I hate writing papers.
Sigh. I need to get good at this paper-writing stuff again. My writing has turned so sloppy and ridiculous in the last couple of years that writing this paper I feel like the fat kid in the gym after New Year's resolutions kick in, wandering around in a fog, getting onto the weight machines wrong and falling off the treadmill.
I'm just going to remind myself that I don't need an A, and that the grader is looking for completeness and support rather than, you know, life-changingly beautiful prose.
I'm just going to remind myself that I don't need an A, and that the grader is looking for completeness and support rather than, you know, life-changingly beautiful prose.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Lent, Day 3: I have completely forgotten how to write academic papers.
No seriously. Totally forgotten.
Should I post it here when I'm done? (It's a paper defending my understanding of general and special revelation, and lemme tell you, it's not NEAR as exciting as it sounds...) Maybe I will, in like five parts.
That's all I got. Brain dead.
Should I post it here when I'm done? (It's a paper defending my understanding of general and special revelation, and lemme tell you, it's not NEAR as exciting as it sounds...) Maybe I will, in like five parts.
That's all I got. Brain dead.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Lent, Day 2: In which the top of my head shoots off.
OK, I have to get this off my chest. Sorry it's such a long, rambling bit of nonsense. If it's too long and rambling and nonsensical, I won't be offended if you skip it. ;)
Fellas: you are misinterpreting data, to your own frustration and the frustration of many, many single women around you. In 2011, a woman who has a career and a college degree (maybe even an advanced degree) and a mortgage, who pays her bills on time and takes her own car to the mechanic and hasn't lived with her parents in ten years is not necessarily, by definition a raging feminist who thinks she needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. Nope. She is NORMAL. Got that?
Tip: that's the summary. If you're sufficiently convinced, feel free to stop right here. Need more persuasion that you oughta change your mind? Read on, my friend.
In the 1970s and early 1980s, women in the business world were rare. The average age of a first marriage was still in the early-mid twenties for both men and women. And the message from Western culture was loud and clear: Sisters, get into work. You can still decide to have children later, after you've gone up the ranks in your job, after you've accomplished something "real."
Add to this the shame that generation of feminists heaped on men: you're irresponsible, power-hungry, insensitive; you're someone to be resented and competed with, boxed in, restricted, pushed aside, stepped on. Those power-suit-wearing, marriage-spurning, child-hating career girls -- even then, the stereotype was developing!
But, guys? That was thirty years ago. Somehow, it seems, too many Christian men are still being taught to see career, mortgage, and financial stability in a woman and interpret that as "feminist, not wife material, run far far away"!
I grew up being taught not to waste time or money sitting on my hands, and that it was ungodly to waste my gifts and opportunities. You know who taught me that? Not just my mother, though she certainly did. No, it was the women who had, thirty years ago, bought the lie that they could subjugate their God-given desires, that those desires were wrong, that "wife" and "mother" were not the most honorable titles they could seek, but that they were rather titles to be avoided. These women, who learned through bitter experience, taught me to cherish my God-given desire for marriage and motherhood, but also to seize whatever opportunities the Lord put before me. They passed on their experience and wisdom, and started to break down that paradigm.
In my bitter moments, I want to sock every Christian single guy who whines about modern women being overly independent, and tell them that, if they didn't propose to a girl in college, it's their own fault there are all these career women running around. But in my better moments, I just want to be helpful. So let me help you.
Most of us, brothers, are working, paying our bills, getting promotions, working on our degrees, and all those other things, not because we don't want to get married and have children. It's because we had the opportunity to use our gifts in a job, or use our finances more wisely by buying instead of renting, or develop our skills with an advanced degree, or whatever... and haven't had the opportunity to get married and start a family. Most of us would happily re-arrange any or all of those things for the right man, if given the chance.
If I have one word of caution, it's this: guys, you tiptoe toward slandering your sisters when you silently accuse them of selfishness, unhealthy independence, and unbiblical attitudes toward femininity just because they have careers and mortgages -- love, after all, believes the best about people. You are misinterpreting the data, and coming to wrong conclusions. Don't be put off by a woman who makes a decent living at a job she's good at, a woman with an advanced degree, a woman who owns a home. Don't assume the worst about her.
Thirty years ago, a power suit and a mortgage might reasonably have meant this was a woman who didn't want marriage and family. It doesn't have to mean that anymore. Got it?
Fellas: you are misinterpreting data, to your own frustration and the frustration of many, many single women around you. In 2011, a woman who has a career and a college degree (maybe even an advanced degree) and a mortgage, who pays her bills on time and takes her own car to the mechanic and hasn't lived with her parents in ten years is not necessarily, by definition a raging feminist who thinks she needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. Nope. She is NORMAL. Got that?
Tip: that's the summary. If you're sufficiently convinced, feel free to stop right here. Need more persuasion that you oughta change your mind? Read on, my friend.
In the 1970s and early 1980s, women in the business world were rare. The average age of a first marriage was still in the early-mid twenties for both men and women. And the message from Western culture was loud and clear: Sisters, get into work. You can still decide to have children later, after you've gone up the ranks in your job, after you've accomplished something "real."
Add to this the shame that generation of feminists heaped on men: you're irresponsible, power-hungry, insensitive; you're someone to be resented and competed with, boxed in, restricted, pushed aside, stepped on. Those power-suit-wearing, marriage-spurning, child-hating career girls -- even then, the stereotype was developing!
But, guys? That was thirty years ago. Somehow, it seems, too many Christian men are still being taught to see career, mortgage, and financial stability in a woman and interpret that as "feminist, not wife material, run far far away"!
I grew up being taught not to waste time or money sitting on my hands, and that it was ungodly to waste my gifts and opportunities. You know who taught me that? Not just my mother, though she certainly did. No, it was the women who had, thirty years ago, bought the lie that they could subjugate their God-given desires, that those desires were wrong, that "wife" and "mother" were not the most honorable titles they could seek, but that they were rather titles to be avoided. These women, who learned through bitter experience, taught me to cherish my God-given desire for marriage and motherhood, but also to seize whatever opportunities the Lord put before me. They passed on their experience and wisdom, and started to break down that paradigm.
In my bitter moments, I want to sock every Christian single guy who whines about modern women being overly independent, and tell them that, if they didn't propose to a girl in college, it's their own fault there are all these career women running around. But in my better moments, I just want to be helpful. So let me help you.
Most of us, brothers, are working, paying our bills, getting promotions, working on our degrees, and all those other things, not because we don't want to get married and have children. It's because we had the opportunity to use our gifts in a job, or use our finances more wisely by buying instead of renting, or develop our skills with an advanced degree, or whatever... and haven't had the opportunity to get married and start a family. Most of us would happily re-arrange any or all of those things for the right man, if given the chance.
If I have one word of caution, it's this: guys, you tiptoe toward slandering your sisters when you silently accuse them of selfishness, unhealthy independence, and unbiblical attitudes toward femininity just because they have careers and mortgages -- love, after all, believes the best about people. You are misinterpreting the data, and coming to wrong conclusions. Don't be put off by a woman who makes a decent living at a job she's good at, a woman with an advanced degree, a woman who owns a home. Don't assume the worst about her.
Thirty years ago, a power suit and a mortgage might reasonably have meant this was a woman who didn't want marriage and family. It doesn't have to mean that anymore. Got it?
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Lent, Day 1
Sojourn's Ash Wednesday service is one of my favorite church gatherings of the year, even though I always get asked, "What's that black stuff on your forehead?" about fifty times during the day.
I love the solemnity, the emphasis on repentance and renewal, and the anticipation that accompany Lent in general and Ash Wednesday in particular. I always think it'll be a restful, contemplative day full of opportunities to meditate quietly on the cross, start my Lenten fast (whatever it is from year to year) -- basically that it'll be a perfect little monastic day with real life waiting until later to intrude.
Didn't happen. Not close. It was a day full of conflict (and, praise God, real Gospel reconciliation), anxiety, busyness, and all sorts of unexpected hiccups. And that was God's grace to me too.
Welcome back to blogging. Maybe over Lent we'll get into why I didn't blog for several months? We'll see.
I love the solemnity, the emphasis on repentance and renewal, and the anticipation that accompany Lent in general and Ash Wednesday in particular. I always think it'll be a restful, contemplative day full of opportunities to meditate quietly on the cross, start my Lenten fast (whatever it is from year to year) -- basically that it'll be a perfect little monastic day with real life waiting until later to intrude.
Didn't happen. Not close. It was a day full of conflict (and, praise God, real Gospel reconciliation), anxiety, busyness, and all sorts of unexpected hiccups. And that was God's grace to me too.
Welcome back to blogging. Maybe over Lent we'll get into why I didn't blog for several months? We'll see.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
On Hitting A Wall and Hating My Own Voice
When I was in college, I was a mediocre writer. I got a bit better over the years thanks in no small part to an excellent creative writing prof who frequently eviscerated my verbose poetry, but in a really nice, upper-Midwest way, with a smile on her face, until it stopped being overwrought brain dumps and started to be lean distillations of emotional experience.
In seminary, writing dullsville reports on the minutiae of evangelistic techniques and scrambling for essay topics that wouldn't put me or the grader to sleep, my writing got both better and worse. More technical, perhaps a bit more precise, but thudding and heavy.
When I started writing this blog, I went through phases. One week I'd toss out the same overwrought brain dumps I'd been carefully trained not to write, and the next obsess over word choice and syntax for hours before deleting the lot. Now, having been out of seminary for going on three years, not having had to write a paper for anyone's approval, not having deadlines and due dates looming, I've gotten sloppy. I want that taut academic precision back in my writing. I want to stop sounding like a cross between the Fug Girls and Ree Drummond, which, I fear, is the voice that's developed.
So, all that to say, I will probably be writing here quite a bit more than usual, because practice, as they say, makes perfect.
In seminary, writing dullsville reports on the minutiae of evangelistic techniques and scrambling for essay topics that wouldn't put me or the grader to sleep, my writing got both better and worse. More technical, perhaps a bit more precise, but thudding and heavy.
When I started writing this blog, I went through phases. One week I'd toss out the same overwrought brain dumps I'd been carefully trained not to write, and the next obsess over word choice and syntax for hours before deleting the lot. Now, having been out of seminary for going on three years, not having had to write a paper for anyone's approval, not having deadlines and due dates looming, I've gotten sloppy. I want that taut academic precision back in my writing. I want to stop sounding like a cross between the Fug Girls and Ree Drummond, which, I fear, is the voice that's developed.
So, all that to say, I will probably be writing here quite a bit more than usual, because practice, as they say, makes perfect.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Stop It. Just Stop It.
OK, I have officially had enough.
Back in September, Tullian Tchividjian's church made the move to one service, from their previous format of one "traditional" and one "contemporary" service. He wrote an initial post about their kickoff week and a little of the background behind their decision. At the end of the post, what he didn't write but might as well have was "Cue Psalms-only, Western-musical-tradition-obsessed, Regulative Principal types: pontificate away, fellas."
Here are just a few of the many comments that made me want to throw stuff at my computer:
Can we please just take a second (after we've all picked our jaws up off the floor) to evaluate the assumptions behind these claims?
1. Modern styled music is something to be dreaded, avoided, and pushed back.
2. The choice of music and style is primarily about my felt needs (oh, the irony).
3. Our only choices are the lovely, rich, comforting old hymns and an overwrought seeker-sensitive rock concert style (complete with "moaning and twitching"?!?).
4. If a long-standing traditional style is denigrated or underappreciated, that's a theological issue akin to people's rejection of the Gospel.
5. The culture is changing, so we have to reject change by holding our ground with traditional styles of music.
6. Anything other than a Western classical style represents "dumbing down" of worship.
7. The goal of modern styles of music is that we won't be challenged by worship.
Seriously, people. Stop it. Stop making arguments against your brothers and sisters in Christ based entirely on logical fallacies.* Stop claiming some special knowledge about how public worship gatherings are supposed to look. Stop insisting that Western classical musical from 400 to 150 years ago is the pinnacle of all human achievement. It's not just silly, it's xenophobic and exclusionary. (Notice that I didn't say that using Western classical music, or even preferring it, is xenophobic and exclusionary -- insisting on its superiority [even its spiritual superiority] over all other types of music is.)
We sing theologically rich songs at Sojourn, songs that are full of Scriptural truth. We often sing hymns -- in fact, I would guess that a majority of our songs have a hymn structure (i.e., a particular meter in each verse). Four of the five songs we did this past week were hymns. Two were traditional hymns, two were written more recently. One of the modern hymns was based on a Puritan prayer from the outstanding Valley of Vision. We sing a fair number of Psalms (I can think of a dozen or so) and are always up for singing more. Why, then, do people continue to insist that, because we use guitars and drums, we're contributing to theological shallowness in the church?
Church music ministers need to be students of their culture and their congregation as well as of the Scriptures. And, furthermore, it's absolutely possible to obey the commands of the Scriptures without having to use only piano and organ or orchestral arrangements or Western classical style (thank God -- if not, boy, would overseas missionaries be in trouble). It's even possible to adhere to the Regulative Principle and still -- gasp! -- use guitars. Maybe piano, organ, and classical style are what's best for your particular congregation. But why then does everyone else have to agree that it's better?
If we want to talk about what styles of music best carry theological content in a coherent way, I'm happy to have that conversation (and no, I don't think all musical styles are equally suited for public worship, just on a practical level, but I also think that particular knife cuts both ways). If we want to talk about reverence and decency, I'm up for that too. Attitudes toward our collective history? Yeah, definitely, let's talk about that.
But if folks are going to approach this conversation with an attitude of snobbery towards everyone who doesn't have their "special knowledge" about the superiority of the Western classical tradition, a traditional hymnnodic structure, and the Fill-In-The-Blank Psalter... Well, I'll just turn off my computer and have a little chat with the doorknob instead, thanks. ;-)
*In that list, you'll see a false dilemma (either good thing A or hideously unimaginable thing B must be true), a package deal fallacy (modern music goes together with shallow content and theological inferiority, therefore if you use modern music you're embracing shallow content and theological inferiority), an appeal to fear (this thing is so dreadful that I hope Jesus comes back before it happens, an appeal to emotion (hymns are comforting; if you want to get rid of hymns you are getting rid of my comfort waaaaaaah), cherrypicking (here is the worst example of how churches can do this, never mind all the good examples), confirmation bias (I believe it will be like X, therefore I will experience as X), tons of bare assertion fallacy (NO IT'S THIS WAY DON'T ARGUE IT IS SO!), and plenty of equivocation (what exactly do these folks mean by "traditional" or "classical" or "hymns" or "contemporary" or "modern"?).
Back in September, Tullian Tchividjian's church made the move to one service, from their previous format of one "traditional" and one "contemporary" service. He wrote an initial post about their kickoff week and a little of the background behind their decision. At the end of the post, what he didn't write but might as well have was "Cue Psalms-only, Western-musical-tradition-obsessed, Regulative Principal types: pontificate away, fellas."
Here are just a few of the many comments that made me want to throw stuff at my computer:
I foresee a time, probably when the current minister of music retires, when the two services will be blended. My hope is that Jesus will return before that happens.
Even the best expressions of blended worship represent a level of compromise
I’m having difficulty understanding why churches insist on dumbing down something intended primarily for God so that we aren’t challenged by it.
Granted, classical music is not as appreciated in today’s society as it has been in the past, but then again, neither is the Gospel.
Hymns like “A Mighty Fortress” and “O God Our Help in Ages Past” ministered to me and soothed the hurt I felt inside. Trading all that for the moaning and twitching of contemporary worship, the loud praise band and flashing lights, is a thought too horrific to contemplate.
Can we please just take a second (after we've all picked our jaws up off the floor) to evaluate the assumptions behind these claims?
1. Modern styled music is something to be dreaded, avoided, and pushed back.
2. The choice of music and style is primarily about my felt needs (oh, the irony).
3. Our only choices are the lovely, rich, comforting old hymns and an overwrought seeker-sensitive rock concert style (complete with "moaning and twitching"?!?).
4. If a long-standing traditional style is denigrated or underappreciated, that's a theological issue akin to people's rejection of the Gospel.
5. The culture is changing, so we have to reject change by holding our ground with traditional styles of music.
6. Anything other than a Western classical style represents "dumbing down" of worship.
7. The goal of modern styles of music is that we won't be challenged by worship.
Seriously, people. Stop it. Stop making arguments against your brothers and sisters in Christ based entirely on logical fallacies.* Stop claiming some special knowledge about how public worship gatherings are supposed to look. Stop insisting that Western classical musical from 400 to 150 years ago is the pinnacle of all human achievement. It's not just silly, it's xenophobic and exclusionary. (Notice that I didn't say that using Western classical music, or even preferring it, is xenophobic and exclusionary -- insisting on its superiority [even its spiritual superiority] over all other types of music is.)
We sing theologically rich songs at Sojourn, songs that are full of Scriptural truth. We often sing hymns -- in fact, I would guess that a majority of our songs have a hymn structure (i.e., a particular meter in each verse). Four of the five songs we did this past week were hymns. Two were traditional hymns, two were written more recently. One of the modern hymns was based on a Puritan prayer from the outstanding Valley of Vision. We sing a fair number of Psalms (I can think of a dozen or so) and are always up for singing more. Why, then, do people continue to insist that, because we use guitars and drums, we're contributing to theological shallowness in the church?
Church music ministers need to be students of their culture and their congregation as well as of the Scriptures. And, furthermore, it's absolutely possible to obey the commands of the Scriptures without having to use only piano and organ or orchestral arrangements or Western classical style (thank God -- if not, boy, would overseas missionaries be in trouble). It's even possible to adhere to the Regulative Principle and still -- gasp! -- use guitars. Maybe piano, organ, and classical style are what's best for your particular congregation. But why then does everyone else have to agree that it's better?
If we want to talk about what styles of music best carry theological content in a coherent way, I'm happy to have that conversation (and no, I don't think all musical styles are equally suited for public worship, just on a practical level, but I also think that particular knife cuts both ways). If we want to talk about reverence and decency, I'm up for that too. Attitudes toward our collective history? Yeah, definitely, let's talk about that.
But if folks are going to approach this conversation with an attitude of snobbery towards everyone who doesn't have their "special knowledge" about the superiority of the Western classical tradition, a traditional hymnnodic structure, and the Fill-In-The-Blank Psalter... Well, I'll just turn off my computer and have a little chat with the doorknob instead, thanks. ;-)
*In that list, you'll see a false dilemma (either good thing A or hideously unimaginable thing B must be true), a package deal fallacy (modern music goes together with shallow content and theological inferiority, therefore if you use modern music you're embracing shallow content and theological inferiority), an appeal to fear (this thing is so dreadful that I hope Jesus comes back before it happens, an appeal to emotion (hymns are comforting; if you want to get rid of hymns you are getting rid of my comfort waaaaaaah), cherrypicking (here is the worst example of how churches can do this, never mind all the good examples), confirmation bias (I believe it will be like X, therefore I will experience as X), tons of bare assertion fallacy (NO IT'S THIS WAY DON'T ARGUE IT IS SO!), and plenty of equivocation (what exactly do these folks mean by "traditional" or "classical" or "hymns" or "contemporary" or "modern"?).
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
A Thought Or Two On Singleness And Sanctification, Part Three
In my last post I mentioned that we really struggle to give single people a big vision for God's work of sanctification in their lives. I was going to go on to say that it's essential that we do more to help single people really ground their identity in Christ rather than success at work, or being liked, or whatever, but then it occurred to me that that's a desperate need for everyone in the church.
I've talked to many married folks, especially women, about "the moment" when they realized that this person they were married to was never meant to give them their identity. For some people, that's the end of their marriage. For others, it's the beginning of a long and difficult journey of finding their identity in Christ and resting there.
I've also had plenty of conversations with single folks (um... including myself) about the identity crisis of not having a spouse, of feeling valueless and adrift without this supposed anchor of marriage. It's daily implied to us that marriage is not simply a good and worthy state, but one that defines us as, and makes us, mature. (Think I'm overstating my case? Name one unmarried ministry leader at your church. Or consider what percentage of your congregation is single vs. what percentage of the leadership. Now, I know... correlation and causation. But it's something to think about.)
Who am I because of my job? Who am I because of my marital status? Who am I because of who I'm attracted to? Who am I because of my income? Who am I because of where I live? Who am I because of my politics, or my eschatology, or my taste in music, or the food I eat or the education I have or the clothes I buy? All those things, to the Christian, must take second place to the question, "Who am I in Christ?"
And if we spent the rest of our lives trying to work that out... Well, that would be ok.
I've talked to many married folks, especially women, about "the moment" when they realized that this person they were married to was never meant to give them their identity. For some people, that's the end of their marriage. For others, it's the beginning of a long and difficult journey of finding their identity in Christ and resting there.
I've also had plenty of conversations with single folks (um... including myself) about the identity crisis of not having a spouse, of feeling valueless and adrift without this supposed anchor of marriage. It's daily implied to us that marriage is not simply a good and worthy state, but one that defines us as, and makes us, mature. (Think I'm overstating my case? Name one unmarried ministry leader at your church. Or consider what percentage of your congregation is single vs. what percentage of the leadership. Now, I know... correlation and causation. But it's something to think about.)
Who am I because of my job? Who am I because of my marital status? Who am I because of who I'm attracted to? Who am I because of my income? Who am I because of where I live? Who am I because of my politics, or my eschatology, or my taste in music, or the food I eat or the education I have or the clothes I buy? All those things, to the Christian, must take second place to the question, "Who am I in Christ?"
And if we spent the rest of our lives trying to work that out... Well, that would be ok.
Monday, November 22, 2010
A Thought Or Two On Singleness And Sanctification, Part 2
So, I wrote the last post to sort of point out the problem of our unbalanced understanding of singleness and sanctification. In this one, I'd like to think through what a solid, biblical view of singleness and sanctification looks like.
I think, first of all, that it's not just about "patience." We get told this a lot -- that we're so blessed to be learning patience, learning to "wait on the Lord" as we're single.
I think it IS a lot about... just life. Married folks and parents especially get all kinds of advice about how to turn everyday stuff into an opportunity for sanctification. Messy husband? It's a chance to love him sacrificially by just picking up the stupid sock and not nagging him about it. Hate folding laundry? It's a chance to pray for your family, one stained onesie at a time. Frustrated by the neverending cycle of strife between your kids? Just think of how God feels when we continually rebel against him!
Too often, we only address the external, apparent frustrations of the single person (loneliness, desire for marriage) without just dealing with their everyday circumstances, so we end up giving them the same prescription for sanctification. Be patient. Rely on God. Both great, but just not enough, and definitely not specific enough. I definitely need sanctification in those areas, but not only those areas.
In my life, for example, my biggest sources of sanctification are my students and hosting community group. I'm constantly confronted with my own pride, laziness, and selfishness at work. At home, I constantly fail to live up to my God-given task of home-keeping, making my little domain a place of peace and welcome for whoever God sends.
But not only do we fail to give specific, life-focused counsel to single people, we also fail to give them a big picture. Ultimately, God's purpose for me and God's purpose for my married friends is identical: that we would be more like Jesus. And we do married people and single people a great disservice by overemphasizing their dissimilarities and under-emphasizing their similarities. My best friend, who's married, needs to remember the Gospel just like I do. She needs to be made more like Jesus just like I do. She needs to respond to God's grace by striving to live a life of excellence, purity, generosity, wisdom, perseverance, and self-control, just like I do. She needs to joyfully submit to those whom God has made her leaders, just like I do.
The external circumstances whereby she is reminded of the Gospel might be different, or they might not. The trials that refine and strengthen her faith might be different than mine, or they might not. But the final outcome is that God, who has promised to complete the work he begins in his people, will make her, and me, and every other believer, more like Jesus.
I think, first of all, that it's not just about "patience." We get told this a lot -- that we're so blessed to be learning patience, learning to "wait on the Lord" as we're single.
I think it IS a lot about... just life. Married folks and parents especially get all kinds of advice about how to turn everyday stuff into an opportunity for sanctification. Messy husband? It's a chance to love him sacrificially by just picking up the stupid sock and not nagging him about it. Hate folding laundry? It's a chance to pray for your family, one stained onesie at a time. Frustrated by the neverending cycle of strife between your kids? Just think of how God feels when we continually rebel against him!
Too often, we only address the external, apparent frustrations of the single person (loneliness, desire for marriage) without just dealing with their everyday circumstances, so we end up giving them the same prescription for sanctification. Be patient. Rely on God. Both great, but just not enough, and definitely not specific enough. I definitely need sanctification in those areas, but not only those areas.
In my life, for example, my biggest sources of sanctification are my students and hosting community group. I'm constantly confronted with my own pride, laziness, and selfishness at work. At home, I constantly fail to live up to my God-given task of home-keeping, making my little domain a place of peace and welcome for whoever God sends.
But not only do we fail to give specific, life-focused counsel to single people, we also fail to give them a big picture. Ultimately, God's purpose for me and God's purpose for my married friends is identical: that we would be more like Jesus. And we do married people and single people a great disservice by overemphasizing their dissimilarities and under-emphasizing their similarities. My best friend, who's married, needs to remember the Gospel just like I do. She needs to be made more like Jesus just like I do. She needs to respond to God's grace by striving to live a life of excellence, purity, generosity, wisdom, perseverance, and self-control, just like I do. She needs to joyfully submit to those whom God has made her leaders, just like I do.
The external circumstances whereby she is reminded of the Gospel might be different, or they might not. The trials that refine and strengthen her faith might be different than mine, or they might not. But the final outcome is that God, who has promised to complete the work he begins in his people, will make her, and me, and every other believer, more like Jesus.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
A Thought Or Two On Singleness And Sanctification
My sweet, encouraging sister-in-law and I had a really good conversation last week, in which she said something I don't think I've ever heard a married person say, at least not quite in that way. She actually told me that singleness was sanctifying me, not just in one area, that of patience, but in my whole life as a Christian. Single folks don't really hear that a lot. Sojourn does a better job at addressing this than many churches, but I imagine it's tough to work in a lot of exhortations to singles, especially single women, when you're a married guy like all our elders are. So this isn't a post where I call people out and tell them to get on the ball or anything. It's just thoughts. Thoughts: I has them.
As is typical for me, I'm finding it helpful lately to see the whole concept of how we talk about sanctification as single people on a continuum, with error at each end, and a range of orthodoxy in the middle.
So: at one end, you've got the idea that singleness is a less-than-ideal circumstance for sanctification, and that marriage is not just normal but normative. Few people actually teach this (although... I can tell you from experience, they're out there). But a lot more people sort of accidentally teach it, or at least imply it. The error here is reading the Scriptures and seeing marriage described as sort of socially and culturally normal, as well as good, and that probably most people described in any detail in the Scriptures are married, and drawing from that something that's normative. It's a common interpretive problem, confusing descriptive and prescriptive aspects of Scripture. Plus, marriage "has a verse on it" as we say in the South, the lovely and oft-read-at-weddings passage about the mystery of marriage referring to Christ and the Church. We seem to think that means that singleness is just one tiny step down from marriage, because singleness doesn't have a verse about Christ and the Church attached to it.
Here's where you get marriage just hammered on from the pulpit, and talked up, and praised, and presented as the furnace of sanctification, without any notion that we're failing to give people a vision of what godly celibacy (which, in case we've forgotten, is our eternal future state) looks like. Instead we're telling people to direct all their energies toward something that's temporary, and discouraging single people from pursuing sanctification because we're implying that it all will just happen automatically and effortlessly once they get married and start having kids (insert collective snort of disgust from all my married readers).
(Incidentally, and just as a little side rant: why are we ok with denigrating the lives and experiences of single people by constantly saying that marriage/child-rearing is "harder" than singleness? I'm positive that it's harder in some areas, and it's definitely a different kind of hard, but, married folks, please. Stop telling us that we've got it easy. /rant.)
At the other end of the spectrum is a view that's totally foreign to us Protestants, that celibate service is spiritual and, in fact, that married folks (basically, in most cases) disqualify themselves from vocational ministry. We can't get our brains around this. So because we can't get our brains around it, we mostly don't provide a path for celibate service, and we retreat all the way to the other end of the spectrum.
As is typical for me, I'm finding it helpful lately to see the whole concept of how we talk about sanctification as single people on a continuum, with error at each end, and a range of orthodoxy in the middle.
So: at one end, you've got the idea that singleness is a less-than-ideal circumstance for sanctification, and that marriage is not just normal but normative. Few people actually teach this (although... I can tell you from experience, they're out there). But a lot more people sort of accidentally teach it, or at least imply it. The error here is reading the Scriptures and seeing marriage described as sort of socially and culturally normal, as well as good, and that probably most people described in any detail in the Scriptures are married, and drawing from that something that's normative. It's a common interpretive problem, confusing descriptive and prescriptive aspects of Scripture. Plus, marriage "has a verse on it" as we say in the South, the lovely and oft-read-at-weddings passage about the mystery of marriage referring to Christ and the Church. We seem to think that means that singleness is just one tiny step down from marriage, because singleness doesn't have a verse about Christ and the Church attached to it.
Here's where you get marriage just hammered on from the pulpit, and talked up, and praised, and presented as the furnace of sanctification, without any notion that we're failing to give people a vision of what godly celibacy (which, in case we've forgotten, is our eternal future state) looks like. Instead we're telling people to direct all their energies toward something that's temporary, and discouraging single people from pursuing sanctification because we're implying that it all will just happen automatically and effortlessly once they get married and start having kids (insert collective snort of disgust from all my married readers).
(Incidentally, and just as a little side rant: why are we ok with denigrating the lives and experiences of single people by constantly saying that marriage/child-rearing is "harder" than singleness? I'm positive that it's harder in some areas, and it's definitely a different kind of hard, but, married folks, please. Stop telling us that we've got it easy. /rant.)
At the other end of the spectrum is a view that's totally foreign to us Protestants, that celibate service is spiritual and, in fact, that married folks (basically, in most cases) disqualify themselves from vocational ministry. We can't get our brains around this. So because we can't get our brains around it, we mostly don't provide a path for celibate service, and we retreat all the way to the other end of the spectrum.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Whate'er My God Ordains Is Right
It's a rare song that contains both well-crafted poetry and beautifully-presented truth. These lyrics are worthy of your full attention, friends, and I encourage you to read them carefully and rejoice in God whose mysterious will works out for our good!
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His holy will abideth;
I will be still whate’er He doth;
And follow where He guideth;
He is my God; though dark my road,
He holds me that I shall not fall:
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He never will deceive me;
He leads me by the proper path:
I know He will not leave me.
I take, content, what He hath sent;
His hand can turn my griefs away,
And patiently I wait His day.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His loving thought attends me;
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
My God is true; each morn anew
I’ll trust His grace unending,
My life to Him commending.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He is my Friend and Father;
He suffers naught to do me harm,
Though many storms may gather,
Now I may know both joy and woe,
Some day I shall see clearly
That He hath loved me dearly.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Though now this cup, in drinking,
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it, all unshrinking.
My God is true; each morn anew
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Here shall my stand be taken;
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet I am not forsaken.
My Father’s care is round me there;
He holds me that I shall not fall:
And so to Him I leave it all.
-- Samuel Rodigast, 1676
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His holy will abideth;
I will be still whate’er He doth;
And follow where He guideth;
He is my God; though dark my road,
He holds me that I shall not fall:
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He never will deceive me;
He leads me by the proper path:
I know He will not leave me.
I take, content, what He hath sent;
His hand can turn my griefs away,
And patiently I wait His day.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His loving thought attends me;
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
My God is true; each morn anew
I’ll trust His grace unending,
My life to Him commending.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He is my Friend and Father;
He suffers naught to do me harm,
Though many storms may gather,
Now I may know both joy and woe,
Some day I shall see clearly
That He hath loved me dearly.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Though now this cup, in drinking,
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it, all unshrinking.
My God is true; each morn anew
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Here shall my stand be taken;
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet I am not forsaken.
My Father’s care is round me there;
He holds me that I shall not fall:
And so to Him I leave it all.
-- Samuel Rodigast, 1676
Monday, November 15, 2010
Alienating Verbal Tics
Just thinking of these last night. They tend to disconnect people from the conversation. Can you think of any others?
Habitually starting sentences with "No," or "No way," even when you're agreeing or the sentence isn't subject to agreement or disagreement.
"Shut up," when said as, "You're kidding!" This one's tough for me.
Saying, "You have no idea," or "You don't even know." This one is particularly bad. It's mostly intended as something like, "The situation I'm referring to was really bad/good," but it comes across as, "I have experiences you could never dream about." Makes you sound super arrogant.
Habitually starting sentences with "No," or "No way," even when you're agreeing or the sentence isn't subject to agreement or disagreement.
"Shut up," when said as, "You're kidding!" This one's tough for me.
Saying, "You have no idea," or "You don't even know." This one is particularly bad. It's mostly intended as something like, "The situation I'm referring to was really bad/good," but it comes across as, "I have experiences you could never dream about." Makes you sound super arrogant.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
School.
Among American Christians, choosing where (or IF) to send your kids to school has become this almost comically fraught decision of unparalleled theological significance. If you listen to certain folks, your children's eventual salvation basically hinges on making the right choice in this area (the huge number of publicly educated Christian adults, yours truly included, notwithstanding).
You've got a small but vocal group of Christians loudly decrying "government indoctrination facilities," people saying you don't care about the poor if you pull your kids out of public schools, anti-homeschooling blogs dedicated to making parents feel incompetent and irresponsible for daring to think they can educate their own children, Christian schools of every stripe, from Montessoris to classical schools and from public school look-alikes to ultra-rigorous mini-seminaries... all of them clamoring for parents' attention. How are we supposed to see through the confused haze of claims and caveats? Here's my little tidbit of advice as a teacher at a fantastic private school who doesn't actually really care all that much about how you educate your own children ;).
1. Chill out. Is your child's education important? Definitely. Is it THE MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER OH MY GOSH YOU'RE DOING IT WROOOOOOONNNG ? Um, no.
2. Remember that your identity, your hope, your salvation are in Christ, not in subscribing to a particular educational methodology, not in being "right," not in trying to create an ideal situation.
3. Then sit down, write out a pros and cons list, and make the best decision for your family. There's no need to wait for a sign or to feel God "releasing" you to do X, Y, or Z or to "have peace" about it. Your life, Christian, is spiritual. You have the Holy Spirit actually dwelling in you to guide your steps. You have a sovereign, good, and gracious Father who knows the end from the beginning and whose plans are for your good and His glory. You have a faithful Savior interceding on your behalf before God. You have nothing to worry about. Work, because God is already at work.
Just my two (or maybe four) cents.
You've got a small but vocal group of Christians loudly decrying "government indoctrination facilities," people saying you don't care about the poor if you pull your kids out of public schools, anti-homeschooling blogs dedicated to making parents feel incompetent and irresponsible for daring to think they can educate their own children, Christian schools of every stripe, from Montessoris to classical schools and from public school look-alikes to ultra-rigorous mini-seminaries... all of them clamoring for parents' attention. How are we supposed to see through the confused haze of claims and caveats? Here's my little tidbit of advice as a teacher at a fantastic private school who doesn't actually really care all that much about how you educate your own children ;).
1. Chill out. Is your child's education important? Definitely. Is it THE MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER OH MY GOSH YOU'RE DOING IT WROOOOOOONNNG ? Um, no.
2. Remember that your identity, your hope, your salvation are in Christ, not in subscribing to a particular educational methodology, not in being "right," not in trying to create an ideal situation.
3. Then sit down, write out a pros and cons list, and make the best decision for your family. There's no need to wait for a sign or to feel God "releasing" you to do X, Y, or Z or to "have peace" about it. Your life, Christian, is spiritual. You have the Holy Spirit actually dwelling in you to guide your steps. You have a sovereign, good, and gracious Father who knows the end from the beginning and whose plans are for your good and His glory. You have a faithful Savior interceding on your behalf before God. You have nothing to worry about. Work, because God is already at work.
Just my two (or maybe four) cents.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Stereotypes
Quick, picture a stereotypical Twilight fan. Now picture a stereotypical unemployed 20-something. Now a megachurch pastor. A ruthless CEO. An overworked stay-at-home mom.
Chances are, you and I had similar pictures in our heads. A weepy-eyed fangirl writing fan fiction in her Team Jacob shirt. An unshaven slacker sitting in his mom's basement playing Starcraft at two in the morning. Joel Osteen. Gordon Gecko. This poor woman.
These pictures, the ones that sort of exist in our collective cultural consciousness, are tools that good writers and speakers use as a point of connection with the reader or listener. In other words, sometimes, stereotypes are good.
Chances are, you and I had similar pictures in our heads. A weepy-eyed fangirl writing fan fiction in her Team Jacob shirt. An unshaven slacker sitting in his mom's basement playing Starcraft at two in the morning. Joel Osteen. Gordon Gecko. This poor woman.
These pictures, the ones that sort of exist in our collective cultural consciousness, are tools that good writers and speakers use as a point of connection with the reader or listener. In other words, sometimes, stereotypes are good.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
A Weird Culture Thing
I know, that's probably the most descriptive title ever, right? I was bumming around a friend-of-a-friend's blog yesterday and came across something that really got my blood pressure pumping. The guy happens to be Australian, and he released the freakin' hounds on a famous American preacher for what was, to my mind, a series of totally boring and ordinary Facebook posts talking about his schedule, family life, marriage, etc. But in thinking about it last night I remembered that there's a weird culture thing (there's that brilliant phrase again) between Americans and Aussies that we often don't recognize and that very often causes problems between us.
What is this Weird Culture Thing? I'm so glad you asked. (Attention: broad cultural stereotypes ahead.)
Americans are, very generally, a positive people -- I'm thinking of that sort of midwestern, pull yourself up by your own bootstraps, self-reliant, I'll get by, buck up attitude. I mean, there's a whole sub-genre of American folk/popular music dedicated to getting people to cheer up and have a positive outlook on life ("Smile, Darn Ya, Smile" "Put on a Happy Face" "You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile," "The Sunny Side of the Street," etc.) -- much of which was written during the Great Depression, a period with an incalculable impact on the collective American psyche. I like this attitude, generally; I think it shows resilience and optimism. But there's a dark side to it as well, what we might call the Joel Osteen or Pollyanna side, that closes its eyes to the impending storm and brags about how wonderful life is.
Aussies, in my experience, often don't get that, for most Americans, this positivity is a totally natural cultural thing, ingrained in us since infancy, not a boastful put-on, not a fake-out, not an effort to belittle anyone else. Because, generally, in my observation, Aussies are humble, hard-working people who just want to give everyone a fair shot, get on with it, and not call attention to themselves. So they see what we think of as cheerfulness and positivity -- or just stating facts -- and read it as Pollyanna-ishness or bragging or putting others down, and feel the need to address it (just like we would want to address something we saw as major arrogance)
But unfortunately, the kind of forthrightness that your average Aussie values, unmixed with flattery, is going to come across to your average American as presumptuous and rude instead of like a much-needed dose of reality. So that gets our defenses up, and we write you off as a mean old crank, and then you write us off as xenophobic and isolationist, and then our suspicions are confirmed that Americans are the only nice people in the world (and we value "nice" a LOT), and then your suspicions are confirmed that Americans don't understand or care about anyone but themselves, and then...
See? A Weird Culture Thing.
What is this Weird Culture Thing? I'm so glad you asked. (Attention: broad cultural stereotypes ahead.)
Americans are, very generally, a positive people -- I'm thinking of that sort of midwestern, pull yourself up by your own bootstraps, self-reliant, I'll get by, buck up attitude. I mean, there's a whole sub-genre of American folk/popular music dedicated to getting people to cheer up and have a positive outlook on life ("Smile, Darn Ya, Smile" "Put on a Happy Face" "You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile," "The Sunny Side of the Street," etc.) -- much of which was written during the Great Depression, a period with an incalculable impact on the collective American psyche. I like this attitude, generally; I think it shows resilience and optimism. But there's a dark side to it as well, what we might call the Joel Osteen or Pollyanna side, that closes its eyes to the impending storm and brags about how wonderful life is.
Aussies, in my experience, often don't get that, for most Americans, this positivity is a totally natural cultural thing, ingrained in us since infancy, not a boastful put-on, not a fake-out, not an effort to belittle anyone else. Because, generally, in my observation, Aussies are humble, hard-working people who just want to give everyone a fair shot, get on with it, and not call attention to themselves. So they see what we think of as cheerfulness and positivity -- or just stating facts -- and read it as Pollyanna-ishness or bragging or putting others down, and feel the need to address it (just like we would want to address something we saw as major arrogance)
But unfortunately, the kind of forthrightness that your average Aussie values, unmixed with flattery, is going to come across to your average American as presumptuous and rude instead of like a much-needed dose of reality. So that gets our defenses up, and we write you off as a mean old crank, and then you write us off as xenophobic and isolationist, and then our suspicions are confirmed that Americans are the only nice people in the world (and we value "nice" a LOT), and then your suspicions are confirmed that Americans don't understand or care about anyone but themselves, and then...
See? A Weird Culture Thing.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
In Case You Were Wondering Where That Howl Of Fury and Protest Was Coming From...
It was me. When I read this article.
What a load of utter, middle-class-guilt assuaging, white man's burden, condescending, collectivist, furrowed brow, think-of-the-little-people nonsense.
First, why is it my business to raise other people's kids? Help them, yes. Care for them, absolutely. As a Christian, reach into their problems? For sure. But consider them FIRST, over my own doggone (hypothetical, future) children? That gets a big HECK NO.
Second, why do I get to choose between 1) hurting those poor poor children, you arrogant and probably racist jerk, and 2) helping those poor poor children by sending my smarter, richer, happier, more psychologically balanced offspring (oh, the irony) to whatever public school my municipality in its infinite wisdom decides to shuttle them off to? That, boys and girls, is called a false dilemma. With just a leetle dash of straw man thrown in.
Just imagine with me for a moment that there could be -- miracle of miracles -- something like... wait for it... a third option! What? More than two options? No way, man, we're American, we can't give people more than two options! Not in public discourse! Hahahaha...
What a load of utter, middle-class-guilt assuaging, white man's burden, condescending, collectivist, furrowed brow, think-of-the-little-people nonsense.
First, why is it my business to raise other people's kids? Help them, yes. Care for them, absolutely. As a Christian, reach into their problems? For sure. But consider them FIRST, over my own doggone (hypothetical, future) children? That gets a big HECK NO.
Second, why do I get to choose between 1) hurting those poor poor children, you arrogant and probably racist jerk, and 2) helping those poor poor children by sending my smarter, richer, happier, more psychologically balanced offspring (oh, the irony) to whatever public school my municipality in its infinite wisdom decides to shuttle them off to? That, boys and girls, is called a false dilemma. With just a leetle dash of straw man thrown in.
Just imagine with me for a moment that there could be -- miracle of miracles -- something like... wait for it... a third option! What? More than two options? No way, man, we're American, we can't give people more than two options! Not in public discourse! Hahahaha...
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