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Monday, November 30, 2009
Come Lord Jesus (or How the Nativity Foreshadows the Eschatological Throne Scene)
I have been thinking a lot about Advent lately. Coming from zero church background until I was 21 and then being limited to Southern Baptist life, the season of Advent is in many ways a new discovery for me. If you are in the same boat, a brief background concerning Advent may be in order. Advent is Latin for "coming" and is a season of anticipation that both reflects the waiting of the Jews (and all creation) for the Messiah and looks ahead to the second coming (Advent) of Christ. This is observed through various liturgical methods such as the lighting of candles.
My family has decided to observe Advent this year, in hopes of creating godly traditions for ourselves and Mary Grace. While we will be lighting candles, we also did not want to be merely ritualistic in our practice. So, I have been meditating on what it means to long for the return of Christ and to reflect on the importance of his Incarnation.
Initially I have been convicted by passages that speak of Israel's rejection of Christ when He came. John 1:11 says "...his own people did not accept him." When the Magi seek out Jesus by inquiring of Herod about the location of the "King of the Jews," Matthew 2:3 says that Herod "...was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him." The very people who were so desperate for a Messiah, a deliverer, simply did not want Him when He came. I'm not sure why, perhaps is was how He came or how He would die. He was not what they expected in any way, so they rejected Him in every way.
I say these passages have convicted me, because I do not always long for Christ's return. Like most young men, I have my whole life ahead of me; I want to climb mountains, travel, write books, attend my daughters initiation as a nun (or her wedding), bascially, I want to live life. I'm just not ready for Heaven, at least not yet. But perhaps the abundance of my American living has blinded me to the cruelty of this age. Perhaps I need to open the paper and read about mothers selling their 5 year-old daughters to be sex slaves only to have them raped and murdered. I need to remember my friends who have suffered from crippling diseases. I need to remember that this world needed redemption. It needs a Savior to come and set things right. A Messiah to free the captives, heal the sick, and lift up the oppressed. We need our Lord Jesus to come. And yet, I wonder if those who say they are waiting will like what they see when He does in fact return. Will we want the evil in us removed? Will we like that not only the 5 year-old girl is set free but just maybe her murderer will be too? Will we still accept our Savior if He doesn't meet our expectations? Will we be like Jerusalem?
Yet conviction is a lovely thing in that it leads to repentance and that leads to restoration. Today at Chapel, God began to reveal to me why deep down, I do eagerly await His arrival. Across the way from me was an older man, you know the type: members-only jacket, comb over, mustache, black socks and sandals; he had his eyes closed, hands extended, face turned upwards, swaying and singing his heart out to Jesus. Right beside him was the Seminary president, all prim in his perfect suit with his neatly trimmed beard. And with dignity he too sang the same words to the same God with the same devotion. I turned from this scene to observe to Nativity set up in front of the pulpit. In it I saw extreme opposites brought together for one thing, to worship Jesus: the stench of animal dung mingled with the sweet aroma of Frankincense and myrrh, dirt and gold, kings and shepherds, donkeys and angels, all gathered around the crying, helpless, supremely weak Creator of the Universe. Truly ALL creation was on hand to praise the humble king. I was instantly brought to the throne scene from Revelation, when every tribe, nation, and tongue is praising the lamb who was slain. As I wept, I joined the president, the old man, the angels, and the shepherds singing "Come Lord Jesus, Come!" Come Lord, indeed!
May this Advent season reignite our passions for our Lord. May it increase our resolve to be about His business while He is away: loving, witnessing, sharing, and sacrificing. May this Advent season leave us singing with all the convction in the world, "Come Lord Jesus, come!"
My family has decided to observe Advent this year, in hopes of creating godly traditions for ourselves and Mary Grace. While we will be lighting candles, we also did not want to be merely ritualistic in our practice. So, I have been meditating on what it means to long for the return of Christ and to reflect on the importance of his Incarnation.
Initially I have been convicted by passages that speak of Israel's rejection of Christ when He came. John 1:11 says "...his own people did not accept him." When the Magi seek out Jesus by inquiring of Herod about the location of the "King of the Jews," Matthew 2:3 says that Herod "...was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him." The very people who were so desperate for a Messiah, a deliverer, simply did not want Him when He came. I'm not sure why, perhaps is was how He came or how He would die. He was not what they expected in any way, so they rejected Him in every way.
I say these passages have convicted me, because I do not always long for Christ's return. Like most young men, I have my whole life ahead of me; I want to climb mountains, travel, write books, attend my daughters initiation as a nun (or her wedding), bascially, I want to live life. I'm just not ready for Heaven, at least not yet. But perhaps the abundance of my American living has blinded me to the cruelty of this age. Perhaps I need to open the paper and read about mothers selling their 5 year-old daughters to be sex slaves only to have them raped and murdered. I need to remember my friends who have suffered from crippling diseases. I need to remember that this world needed redemption. It needs a Savior to come and set things right. A Messiah to free the captives, heal the sick, and lift up the oppressed. We need our Lord Jesus to come. And yet, I wonder if those who say they are waiting will like what they see when He does in fact return. Will we want the evil in us removed? Will we like that not only the 5 year-old girl is set free but just maybe her murderer will be too? Will we still accept our Savior if He doesn't meet our expectations? Will we be like Jerusalem?
Yet conviction is a lovely thing in that it leads to repentance and that leads to restoration. Today at Chapel, God began to reveal to me why deep down, I do eagerly await His arrival. Across the way from me was an older man, you know the type: members-only jacket, comb over, mustache, black socks and sandals; he had his eyes closed, hands extended, face turned upwards, swaying and singing his heart out to Jesus. Right beside him was the Seminary president, all prim in his perfect suit with his neatly trimmed beard. And with dignity he too sang the same words to the same God with the same devotion. I turned from this scene to observe to Nativity set up in front of the pulpit. In it I saw extreme opposites brought together for one thing, to worship Jesus: the stench of animal dung mingled with the sweet aroma of Frankincense and myrrh, dirt and gold, kings and shepherds, donkeys and angels, all gathered around the crying, helpless, supremely weak Creator of the Universe. Truly ALL creation was on hand to praise the humble king. I was instantly brought to the throne scene from Revelation, when every tribe, nation, and tongue is praising the lamb who was slain. As I wept, I joined the president, the old man, the angels, and the shepherds singing "Come Lord Jesus, Come!" Come Lord, indeed!
May this Advent season reignite our passions for our Lord. May it increase our resolve to be about His business while He is away: loving, witnessing, sharing, and sacrificing. May this Advent season leave us singing with all the convction in the world, "Come Lord Jesus, come!"
Monday, November 23, 2009
To Be (Creative) or Not to Be...
I had a friend who said that "creativity is hiding your sources." I was instantly scandalized by that comment and later thought as I heard him speak, "This sounds a lot like Rob Bell." Yet, I often think about what he said concerning creativity and wonder if he indeed was on to something. We use words like original or unique as synonymous with creativity. Yet a survey of recent pop culture shows less and less originality. No wonder that the writer of Ecclesiastes wrote literally thousands of years ago that "there is nothing new under the Sun." And yet there are those works and those people who instantly strike you as being creative. If there is nothing new under the Sun, if being creative is hiding one's sources, then what is it about these people that intrigues us so?
I think about the people how have, through their creative output, inspired me, moved me to something beyond the mundane of my everyday existence. These people showed me something truly beautiful and thus showed me something of God, people such as Langston Hughes, Frederic Edwin Church, Frederick Buechner, Stephen Watson, or Cliff Hutchison. They have each produced inspiration work; yet I believe each of these people would say that they created because they had been inspired by those before them. Yet, from those sources, they found their own voice, did not try to be anybody else but themselves, the only person they truly could be. And that is what is so fascinating about them, that they are unique because there never has been nor ever will be another Langston Hughes or Cliff Hutchison. I truly believe we are the products of those who have gone before us. We draw upon our sources and synthesize them through our own lives, thoughts, and emotions.
Perhaps we need to rethink what it means to be creative. Does being creative mean being original? I think not. While something can be 'new' for a certain group at a certain time, in the grand scheme of things it is not original, only God Himself is original; the sole creator of all things. Paul says in Colossians 1:16 "all things have been created through Him and for Him." This is why creativity is so important to us, it is a part of the Imago Dei, we bear the creator's image by creating. What is promising about this is that having God as our source means we have a limitless pool of inspiration, leaving room for uniqueness, at least as far as humanity is concerned.
Being creative does not mean doing something that has never been done before but to stir the imagination, to shock, to inspire, and to heal. Creativity is most assuredly not limited to the arts, but in imitation of God, subject to every area of our lives. The sin is not being unoriginal but being unimaginative, and unproductive.
So was my friend right about hiding one's sources? Well, maybe in method, but, I would argue, not in intention. All of our creative output must be born in a state of awareness concerning those who have gone before and ultimately seen as a gift from God to be like Him. This may all seem like ramblings, but I believe it is an important conversation. So, I put the ball in your court: What does it mean to be creative as Christians, as Christ-followers, as image-bearers?
I think about the people how have, through their creative output, inspired me, moved me to something beyond the mundane of my everyday existence. These people showed me something truly beautiful and thus showed me something of God, people such as Langston Hughes, Frederic Edwin Church, Frederick Buechner, Stephen Watson, or Cliff Hutchison. They have each produced inspiration work; yet I believe each of these people would say that they created because they had been inspired by those before them. Yet, from those sources, they found their own voice, did not try to be anybody else but themselves, the only person they truly could be. And that is what is so fascinating about them, that they are unique because there never has been nor ever will be another Langston Hughes or Cliff Hutchison. I truly believe we are the products of those who have gone before us. We draw upon our sources and synthesize them through our own lives, thoughts, and emotions.
Perhaps we need to rethink what it means to be creative. Does being creative mean being original? I think not. While something can be 'new' for a certain group at a certain time, in the grand scheme of things it is not original, only God Himself is original; the sole creator of all things. Paul says in Colossians 1:16 "all things have been created through Him and for Him." This is why creativity is so important to us, it is a part of the Imago Dei, we bear the creator's image by creating. What is promising about this is that having God as our source means we have a limitless pool of inspiration, leaving room for uniqueness, at least as far as humanity is concerned.
Being creative does not mean doing something that has never been done before but to stir the imagination, to shock, to inspire, and to heal. Creativity is most assuredly not limited to the arts, but in imitation of God, subject to every area of our lives. The sin is not being unoriginal but being unimaginative, and unproductive.
So was my friend right about hiding one's sources? Well, maybe in method, but, I would argue, not in intention. All of our creative output must be born in a state of awareness concerning those who have gone before and ultimately seen as a gift from God to be like Him. This may all seem like ramblings, but I believe it is an important conversation. So, I put the ball in your court: What does it mean to be creative as Christians, as Christ-followers, as image-bearers?
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Ruminations on Reconciliation
Perhaps my favorite name for Christians is found in 2 Corinthians 5; ambassadors of reconciliation. This concept of being reconciled to God is not a prominent doctrine heard in our churches these days, but a reading of several of Paul's letters, particularly Romans, teaches us that reconciliation may be the "whole" story behind what Christ was doing on the cross.
Those first few chapters of Romans paint a bleak picture. We have done more than just ignore God, we have become His enemies. This is not just some far off deity growing displeased with his play toys, this is Papa we are talking about. In perhaps his proudest moment, from the depths of a bottomless imagination, He spoke His children into being. They were to be His prize, not just His friends but his very own family. Like the prodigal son we spat in His face and demanded our freedom, only to find ourselves snatching scraps from under the pig's trough and let's be honest, we hated Him for it.
When we think of "being saved" the thought is often of our debts being canceled and rightfully so. Yet God offers us more than just forgiveness, He offers us a repaired and renewed relationship; He offers reconciliation. This is no small matter, lest we forget that God was not just mad at us, we were His enemy. And yet this enmity lays the groundwork for one of my favorite passages: "but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." This is more than some charity case or act of benevolance; this is crazy love. Reconcilation is what makes salvation so radical, its like Hitler and Churchill sharing tea, yet oh so much more. The judge has taken up our defense, paid our penalty and then opened his home for us, adopting us. We who warred against God, now find shelter in His camp.
You can forgive a person and not be reconciled with them. Yet what Jesus has done not only gave us a just status, it gave us a relationship. We were made for this, sitting on Papa's knee, His hand on our shoulder, teaching us to live. Yet Romans, and our lives, has shown us that this relationship still has some mending to be done. Paul encourages us that "For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, how much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life." Our reconciled condition is in a sort of "already but not-yet" condition. We are an enigma.
The other day I was walking along the Platte River here in Denver and I came to a garbage dump along the way. As I was looking at the dump, I was shocked at the amazing view I had of Mt. Evans and the sun setting behind it. I was floored by this picture of our present state. As I peered through trash, I saw glory. As we look at one another, may we see past the trash and see glory. May we see each other as what we are, a bunch of already-but-not yets. Jesus said that we must forgive to be forgiven, should we not reconcile so that we may be reconciled? So, let us take up our mantle and become ambassadors of reconciliation, bringing not just good news to the lost (and each other) but friendship as well.
Those first few chapters of Romans paint a bleak picture. We have done more than just ignore God, we have become His enemies. This is not just some far off deity growing displeased with his play toys, this is Papa we are talking about. In perhaps his proudest moment, from the depths of a bottomless imagination, He spoke His children into being. They were to be His prize, not just His friends but his very own family. Like the prodigal son we spat in His face and demanded our freedom, only to find ourselves snatching scraps from under the pig's trough and let's be honest, we hated Him for it.
When we think of "being saved" the thought is often of our debts being canceled and rightfully so. Yet God offers us more than just forgiveness, He offers us a repaired and renewed relationship; He offers reconciliation. This is no small matter, lest we forget that God was not just mad at us, we were His enemy. And yet this enmity lays the groundwork for one of my favorite passages: "but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." This is more than some charity case or act of benevolance; this is crazy love. Reconcilation is what makes salvation so radical, its like Hitler and Churchill sharing tea, yet oh so much more. The judge has taken up our defense, paid our penalty and then opened his home for us, adopting us. We who warred against God, now find shelter in His camp.
You can forgive a person and not be reconciled with them. Yet what Jesus has done not only gave us a just status, it gave us a relationship. We were made for this, sitting on Papa's knee, His hand on our shoulder, teaching us to live. Yet Romans, and our lives, has shown us that this relationship still has some mending to be done. Paul encourages us that "For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, how much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life." Our reconciled condition is in a sort of "already but not-yet" condition. We are an enigma.
The other day I was walking along the Platte River here in Denver and I came to a garbage dump along the way. As I was looking at the dump, I was shocked at the amazing view I had of Mt. Evans and the sun setting behind it. I was floored by this picture of our present state. As I peered through trash, I saw glory. As we look at one another, may we see past the trash and see glory. May we see each other as what we are, a bunch of already-but-not yets. Jesus said that we must forgive to be forgiven, should we not reconcile so that we may be reconciled? So, let us take up our mantle and become ambassadors of reconciliation, bringing not just good news to the lost (and each other) but friendship as well.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Here we go...
Producing a blog has been something I have had a longing to pursue for quite some time now. However, being the perfectionist that I am, I have procrastinated from the fear of failure; that I might put something out with my name attached that will not be well received. And I probably will, I'm not sure if people will even read this, but I believe that I have something of value to add to the blogging world, just as anyone would. I have a perspective different from you and you have one different from me. As we begin to piece together all the unique perspectives of humanity we begin to truly know who we are and perhaps a little bit about who God is as well. Each of our stories is a mere thread in the tapestry of life and only when they are sticthed together can something beautiful occur.
I choose the title for my blog, "A Sprig of Hope" from a Frederick Buechner sermon. As only Buechner can do, he masterfully and poetically retells the story of Noah, humanizing this immenssly powerful narrative that has become nothing more than a fairy tale or a nursery rhyme. He paints Noah as the "bearded joke draped in a sheet who walks down Broadway with his sandwich-board inscribed REPENT" And yet his message is not heeded and the bearded joke witnesses the end of the world. But hope is not lost...
"Then finally, after many days, Noah sent forth a dove from the ark to see if the waters had subsided from the earth, and that evening she returned, an lo, in her mouth was a freshly plucked olive leaf. Once again...the place to look, I think, is Noah's face. The dove stands there with her delicate, scarlet feet on the calluses of his upturned palm. His cheek just touches her breast so that he can feel the tiny panic of her heart. His eyes are closed, the lashes watery wet. Only what he weeps with now, the old clown, is no longer anguish, but wild and irrepressible hope. That is not the end of the story in Genesis, but maybe that is the end of it for most of us-just a little sprig of hope held up against the end of the world."
Buechner reminds us that this story is our story, we only need to open the Denver Post to realize that, left on our own, we are doomed. Yet in the face of a world covered in death, we have hope. For Noah foreshadowed the One who was to come, Jesus; the one who breaks through our hopelessness and whispers ever so gently in our ears that we can love again, it is possible and it is good.
My prayer, not just for this blog and those reading it, but for each of us God's children is that we may see the tapestry of our faith all the more clearer. That we may, somehow, learn to love. That we may look to Him who has looked on us and felt pity and that in Him we may find what it means to truly live. And as we live, we love. And against a hopeless world that we may hold up a sprig of hope.
I choose the title for my blog, "A Sprig of Hope" from a Frederick Buechner sermon. As only Buechner can do, he masterfully and poetically retells the story of Noah, humanizing this immenssly powerful narrative that has become nothing more than a fairy tale or a nursery rhyme. He paints Noah as the "bearded joke draped in a sheet who walks down Broadway with his sandwich-board inscribed REPENT" And yet his message is not heeded and the bearded joke witnesses the end of the world. But hope is not lost...
"Then finally, after many days, Noah sent forth a dove from the ark to see if the waters had subsided from the earth, and that evening she returned, an lo, in her mouth was a freshly plucked olive leaf. Once again...the place to look, I think, is Noah's face. The dove stands there with her delicate, scarlet feet on the calluses of his upturned palm. His cheek just touches her breast so that he can feel the tiny panic of her heart. His eyes are closed, the lashes watery wet. Only what he weeps with now, the old clown, is no longer anguish, but wild and irrepressible hope. That is not the end of the story in Genesis, but maybe that is the end of it for most of us-just a little sprig of hope held up against the end of the world."
Buechner reminds us that this story is our story, we only need to open the Denver Post to realize that, left on our own, we are doomed. Yet in the face of a world covered in death, we have hope. For Noah foreshadowed the One who was to come, Jesus; the one who breaks through our hopelessness and whispers ever so gently in our ears that we can love again, it is possible and it is good.
My prayer, not just for this blog and those reading it, but for each of us God's children is that we may see the tapestry of our faith all the more clearer. That we may, somehow, learn to love. That we may look to Him who has looked on us and felt pity and that in Him we may find what it means to truly live. And as we live, we love. And against a hopeless world that we may hold up a sprig of hope.
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