i am probably dating myself with the words of this little song from my childhood:
o be careful little eyes what you see,
o be careful little eyes what you see,
for the Father up above
is looking down in love,
so be careful little eyes what you see.
i'm reasonably sure that the lyrics of this Sunday school tune were intended to prick our little consciences when we were tempted to do something bad...and i'm pretty sure the theology of that thinking is, at the very least, not entirely gospel-driven.
However, i've been thinking about those words, and the other verses about being careful what you hear, and where you go, and what you say. The obvious application is that we, as Christ-followers, are to steer clear of sin -- that we are not to watch, listen to, engage in or speak about the things of this world which draw us into unholy living. This thinking, while not very popular, is consistent with the Psalmist's opening lines:
"Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
nor stands in the way of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of scoffers.
But his delight is in the law of the Lord...."
And with John's sober warning, found in 1 John 2:
"Do not love the world or the things of the world...
for all that is in the world
the desires of the flesh and
the desires of the eyes and
pride in possessions is not from the Father..."
Our "little eyes", and ears and hands and feet must be careful to avoid that which is profane so that we might become holy as Christ is holy. This is (obviously) true.
But i think there's more to this little rhyme. At least for our generation of eyes and ears and hands and feet. There is a subtle and insidious danger that, left unchecked, will threaten our faith -- both personal and corporate. i'm afraid it's already making its mark on the church.
Paul would warn Timothy:
"Guard the deposit entrusted to you.
Avoid the irreverant babble and contradictions of what is falsely called 'knowledge'.
For by professing it some have swerved from the faith" (1 Tim. 6:20)
And again,
"The time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching,
but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves
teachers to suit their own passions." (2 Tim. 4:3)
O be careful little ears what you hear.
Avoid listening to crass, unholy, worldly talk. Yes.
But equally threatening is the danger of weak, watered down, popular doctrine.
Be careful little ears what you hear.
It seems to me that we are enamored with teaching, text, and lyrics that are great "sound bites", but bad doctrine. We quote people who have a "silver tongue", but whose content is weak at best and often its just wrong.
If it's a best seller, it must be worth reading.
If people camp out to hear him, he must be worth listening to.
If he's sincere, he must be right.
If it sounds good, it must be worth quoting (on FB).
No. No. No. No.
The time is coming, and indeed is here, when we are accumulating for ourselves teachers to suit our own passions.
Teachers who pick & choose from Scripture.
Teachers who avoid difficult --- unpopular --- subjects.
Teachers who take Scripture out of context to make it relevant.
Teachers who are more concerned about how they look and how they are perceived than about declaring truth.
The time is coming and is indeed here. And people are swerving from the faith. This is serious stuff.
Be careful little eyes what you see.
Be careful little ears what you hear.
Be careful little lips what you say.
Here's a suggestion. Before we repeat or quote or recommend or live by anything other than Scripture, we need to ask ourselves,
Is this consistent with the whole council of God?
Does it ring true with His character and nature throughout history?
Does it reflect the great thinkers of the faith from all the generations of history?
If you're not sure, don't quote it.
Instead, study it.
Turn it over in your mind.
Search the Scripture.
Ask the HolySpirit for understanding.
Ask someone to help you think rightly!
The little chorus that i quoted as i began is most certainly not theologically complete. But it does make a point for our generation. Paul would warn the Thessalonians: "Test everything; hold fast what is good." (1 Thess. 5:21)
Not everything that is taught or preached or written is "sound". i'm afraid that's particularly true in our evangelical culture. People are swerving.
Look out.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Sunday, November 4, 2012
"God helps those who help themselves"...seriously?
"You know, Susan, the Bible says 'God helps those who help themselves'"... i sat with a friend over coffee not too long ago and this was the theological underpining of her side of our discussion. In my mind, i thought: "It does? Really?" i silently ran through all the verses that i have memorized (which didn't take long). i did a quick mental survey of themes from Scripture to try to recall where that phrase would fit. i came up empty...but i didn't trust my own theology and i let it go.
Since it bugged me even after i left my friend, i did what all good theologians do. i googled it :-). Seems that the phrase: God helps those who helps themselves either came from Aesop's fables, Benjamin Franklin, or some ancient Greek tragedy (thanks, Wikipedia). In any case, it most certainly did not come from the Bible.
As i thought about it later (i'm slow...i know), it occurred to me that the idea that God helps those who help themselves is actually completely unbiblical and is not consistent with the Gospel at all. How grateful am i that God helps those who are completely helpless? That He stoops down and reaches in and "helps" those who actually do really stupid, really wicked, and really self-destructive things? Consider Romans 5:8 "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us".
God helps those who cannot help themselves. That is the Gospel.
Beyond the obvious and specific concern that i might have around this particular discussion, my friend's genuine mistake illustrates a point that is increasingly on my mind...and it's one reason for my belaboring the story of Martha for so many weeks.
We are increasingly not a generation of thinking women.
Case in point. We have been told, and we have believed, that the story of Mary & Martha is about two personality types: the godly and thoughtful and quiet and devoted-to-Christ sister and the bossy, pushy sister whose priorities are hopelessly out of order. One blog i saw recently called this the "Martha syndrome". Rrrrrrrrrrrrrr. However, at the risk of repeating myself, Luke's account of Martha's encounter with Jesus is not God's indictment of busy women. It is, instead, his tender invitation to abundant life in the midst of diligent and faithful (and busy) service. If you don't believe me, read the rest of Martha's story --- from John 11 & 12.
Sisters. We must be diligent and serious about our theology. Too many of us have relegated biblical thinking to seminarians and scholars...and our theology is slipping. We don't have the time or the inclination to study on our own...and our theology is slipping. We are watching sitcoms, listening to advertisers, and singing along to music that is completely contrary to all that is holy and profitable and gospel-promoting. And our theology is slipping.
And so someone says that the Bible says "God helps those who help themselves". And we believe it.
And someone writes a catchy caption on facebook, and we "like" it. (Just a cursory look at FB affords more than two dozen quotes, captions, cartoons, or ads that other people have "liked" and "shared" on my wall...doesn't anyone have anything original to say anymore?)
And someone makes a video about "loving Jesus and hating religion" and it goes viral.
And someone tells us that we must be more like Mary than like Martha. And we sigh in defeat.
SERIOUSLY?
Perhaps more than ever, this generation of women must be thinking about what we listen to, what we read, and what we repeat. i am not sure that we appreciate the subtle influence of the culture --- not only on our habits, on how we spend our time, and on how we invest our money, but on our faith. Where did we pick up the idea that "God helps those who help themselves"? That's capitalist thinking that has invaded our faith. How is it possible to "love Jesus and hate religion"? That's postmodern thinking that has invaded our faith. Why do we think that, as women, we should be "more like Mary than like Martha"? That's sociological thinking (aka "personality tests") that has invaded our faith.
i understand that doctrine is not flashy and hip. i know that the clarion call to the study of theology will sound as if we are blowing the dust off a weighty, irrelevant volume from a bookshelf full of more captivating titles.
But even as i say that, my thinking conscience cries: Malarky!
Theology. Theo = God. Logos = knowledge. Theology = the knowledge of God.
HOW IS THAT IRRELEVANT?
i am in danger of getting on a soapbox here. Suffice it to say that i honestly believe that, without some serious course correction, the church will suffer if its women do not engage with one another, with their families, and with the world in a way that reflects sound doctrine and good theology. What would happen if we stopped quoting one another in favor of quoting Scripture? What if our advice and our encouragement and our admonishment came primarily from God's Word?
God helps those whom He chooses to help.
A much less popular sound bite. But one that is actually rooted in Scripture* and proven throughout history. i am forever grateful that He chose me, and i desperately want to represent Him faithfully to my generation. To do so will require thoughtful, disciplined study.......
The bottom line? i think i need a hiatus from facebook theology.
*See Deut. 7:7, 10:15; Nehemiah 9:7; Psalm 78:70; John 15:16, 19; Ephesians 1:4
Since it bugged me even after i left my friend, i did what all good theologians do. i googled it :-). Seems that the phrase: God helps those who helps themselves either came from Aesop's fables, Benjamin Franklin, or some ancient Greek tragedy (thanks, Wikipedia). In any case, it most certainly did not come from the Bible.
As i thought about it later (i'm slow...i know), it occurred to me that the idea that God helps those who help themselves is actually completely unbiblical and is not consistent with the Gospel at all. How grateful am i that God helps those who are completely helpless? That He stoops down and reaches in and "helps" those who actually do really stupid, really wicked, and really self-destructive things? Consider Romans 5:8 "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us".
God helps those who cannot help themselves. That is the Gospel.
Beyond the obvious and specific concern that i might have around this particular discussion, my friend's genuine mistake illustrates a point that is increasingly on my mind...and it's one reason for my belaboring the story of Martha for so many weeks.
We are increasingly not a generation of thinking women.
Case in point. We have been told, and we have believed, that the story of Mary & Martha is about two personality types: the godly and thoughtful and quiet and devoted-to-Christ sister and the bossy, pushy sister whose priorities are hopelessly out of order. One blog i saw recently called this the "Martha syndrome". Rrrrrrrrrrrrrr. However, at the risk of repeating myself, Luke's account of Martha's encounter with Jesus is not God's indictment of busy women. It is, instead, his tender invitation to abundant life in the midst of diligent and faithful (and busy) service. If you don't believe me, read the rest of Martha's story --- from John 11 & 12.
Sisters. We must be diligent and serious about our theology. Too many of us have relegated biblical thinking to seminarians and scholars...and our theology is slipping. We don't have the time or the inclination to study on our own...and our theology is slipping. We are watching sitcoms, listening to advertisers, and singing along to music that is completely contrary to all that is holy and profitable and gospel-promoting. And our theology is slipping.
And so someone says that the Bible says "God helps those who help themselves". And we believe it.
And someone writes a catchy caption on facebook, and we "like" it. (Just a cursory look at FB affords more than two dozen quotes, captions, cartoons, or ads that other people have "liked" and "shared" on my wall...doesn't anyone have anything original to say anymore?)
And someone makes a video about "loving Jesus and hating religion" and it goes viral.
And someone tells us that we must be more like Mary than like Martha. And we sigh in defeat.
SERIOUSLY?
Perhaps more than ever, this generation of women must be thinking about what we listen to, what we read, and what we repeat. i am not sure that we appreciate the subtle influence of the culture --- not only on our habits, on how we spend our time, and on how we invest our money, but on our faith. Where did we pick up the idea that "God helps those who help themselves"? That's capitalist thinking that has invaded our faith. How is it possible to "love Jesus and hate religion"? That's postmodern thinking that has invaded our faith. Why do we think that, as women, we should be "more like Mary than like Martha"? That's sociological thinking (aka "personality tests") that has invaded our faith.
i understand that doctrine is not flashy and hip. i know that the clarion call to the study of theology will sound as if we are blowing the dust off a weighty, irrelevant volume from a bookshelf full of more captivating titles.
But even as i say that, my thinking conscience cries: Malarky!
Theology. Theo = God. Logos = knowledge. Theology = the knowledge of God.
HOW IS THAT IRRELEVANT?
i am in danger of getting on a soapbox here. Suffice it to say that i honestly believe that, without some serious course correction, the church will suffer if its women do not engage with one another, with their families, and with the world in a way that reflects sound doctrine and good theology. What would happen if we stopped quoting one another in favor of quoting Scripture? What if our advice and our encouragement and our admonishment came primarily from God's Word?
God helps those whom He chooses to help.
A much less popular sound bite. But one that is actually rooted in Scripture* and proven throughout history. i am forever grateful that He chose me, and i desperately want to represent Him faithfully to my generation. To do so will require thoughtful, disciplined study.......
The bottom line? i think i need a hiatus from facebook theology.
*See Deut. 7:7, 10:15; Nehemiah 9:7; Psalm 78:70; John 15:16, 19; Ephesians 1:4
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Happy Birthday, Daddy
Tomorrow (well, almost today) would have been my Dad's birthday. He was born 75 years ago. He went to live with Jesus in November, 2001.
i'm not sure a day has gone by since then that i haven't thought about him....wondered what his life is like. i know that this world pales in comparison, but i can't help thinking sometimes that he would have loved this life for a little while longer. He would have been so proud of my son...and so grateful for Ashley. At Hannah & Dave's wedding, he would surely have embarrassed his first-born grandchild with his superlative-laden approval --- insisting that she was "the most beautiful bride ever born" :). And Dave is a man after Daddy's own heart. Sigh.
i've been thinking today that there are alot of things that i don't understand about this life.
i really don't understand why the Lord heals some people and withholds His healing from others.
i don't understand His "prospering" of one population, while another starves.
i don't understand the mercy of the Lord extended to people who deny Him.
Even more so, people who claim to know Him yet trample on His holiness.
i don't understand broken vows, and broken marriages and broken homes.
i don't understand how it's possible for children to be illiterate.
i don't understand the hatred that fuels violence.
i don't understand death. It leaves people lonely. And empty.
"...when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God...Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you...."
Psalm 73. So grateful for "the sanctuary of God"....the actual physical sanctuary. The Living presence of Almighty God who speaks truth to me in spite of my circumstances and emotion.
Here's what i know is true...in the context of what i don't understand.
God is faithful and just.
His love is steadfast.
His mercies are new every morning.
He is good.
He is wise.
He is perfect.
He loves me with an everlasting love.
He loves my dad. And my mom.
And my brothers & sisters...
As i was teaching a workshop last week, i was reminded that people who work with Alzheimer's patients are often called "Memory Loss Assistants"...it's their job to rehearse the names of important people, dates, and significant life moments for their patients to exercise their ability to remember.
That's what worship was for me today. A "memory loss assistant". i needed a reminder. A much-needed nudge in the direction of the Truth.
"...my flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever..."
Sometimes you have to cling to what you know is true. Even if you are hanging on by your fingernails.
Happy Birthday, Daddy. i miss you.
But i'm confident that God's plan for our family is intact.
He has not forgotten us.
Thank you, Father, for the reminder. i needed that.
i'm not sure a day has gone by since then that i haven't thought about him....wondered what his life is like. i know that this world pales in comparison, but i can't help thinking sometimes that he would have loved this life for a little while longer. He would have been so proud of my son...and so grateful for Ashley. At Hannah & Dave's wedding, he would surely have embarrassed his first-born grandchild with his superlative-laden approval --- insisting that she was "the most beautiful bride ever born" :). And Dave is a man after Daddy's own heart. Sigh.
i've been thinking today that there are alot of things that i don't understand about this life.
i really don't understand why the Lord heals some people and withholds His healing from others.
i don't understand His "prospering" of one population, while another starves.
i don't understand the mercy of the Lord extended to people who deny Him.
Even more so, people who claim to know Him yet trample on His holiness.
i don't understand broken vows, and broken marriages and broken homes.
i don't understand how it's possible for children to be illiterate.
i don't understand the hatred that fuels violence.
i don't understand death. It leaves people lonely. And empty.
"...when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God...Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you...."
Psalm 73. So grateful for "the sanctuary of God"....the actual physical sanctuary. The Living presence of Almighty God who speaks truth to me in spite of my circumstances and emotion.
Here's what i know is true...in the context of what i don't understand.
God is faithful and just.
His love is steadfast.
His mercies are new every morning.
He is good.
He is wise.
He is perfect.
He loves me with an everlasting love.
He loves my dad. And my mom.
And my brothers & sisters...
As i was teaching a workshop last week, i was reminded that people who work with Alzheimer's patients are often called "Memory Loss Assistants"...it's their job to rehearse the names of important people, dates, and significant life moments for their patients to exercise their ability to remember.
That's what worship was for me today. A "memory loss assistant". i needed a reminder. A much-needed nudge in the direction of the Truth.
"...my flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever..."
Sometimes you have to cling to what you know is true. Even if you are hanging on by your fingernails.
Happy Birthday, Daddy. i miss you.
But i'm confident that God's plan for our family is intact.
He has not forgotten us.
Thank you, Father, for the reminder. i needed that.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
The fragrance of my soul
In her book Tender Mercies for a Mother's Soul, Angela Guffey remarks: "We are designed to function poorly, to feel overwhelmed and alone apart from our relationship with Jesus. We are made to be lost without God...most of the time, my spirit is the fragrance of my soul --- the indicator of how things are going ... My spirit always tells the truth. When i am anxious or nervous, i know that my soul needs attention. When i am bitter or resentful, the truth is that my soul is empty. When i am overcome with self-pity and doubt, my heart is really screaming for intimacy with my Savior."
Thank you, Angela.
It's the punch line to our story.
Jesus comes to Martha's house.
While He is teaching, she is slaving away in the kitchen,
"distracted by things that had to be done."
(If you think i'm being sarcastic, you've missed a few blogs...
you might want to back up.)
Meanwhile, her sister sits at the feet of the Savior, soaking in His presence and His teaching.
When Martha reaches the end of her rope,
she unloads on Jesus and demands that He get her some help ---
preferably from her o-so-content sister.
i am on the tail end of one of the busiest seasons i've had in a very long time. One evening, after a particularly long day, i got into my car at 9:30ish and it was all i could do not to cry. i wasn't sad, or angry, or discouraged. i was just so tired... and it seemed like the only thing to do.
i'm thinking Martha felt that way too. And Jesus knew how tired she was. He knew how hard she had worked. He knew that she was doing her best to honor Him and provide for their friends. It's why i love this story. He didn't yell at her. He didn't compare her to "the good sister". He didn't really even tell her what to do.
He looked into her soul (think Psalm 139:23-25) and saw just what Angela described. Her anxiety, bitterness, resentment and self-pity overflowed from the emptiness of her soul. Jesus knew that her demanding outburst really reflected a heart screaming for intimacy with Him.
And so He offered her an invitation.
"Only one thing is needed."
Seriously? (i respond in my sanctified imagination to Jesus' remark.)
Yes, Susan. (He patiently and tenderly responds.)
Only one thing.
One.
i hear it, and i sigh with hope and expectation. What is the "one thing"? Time? Energy? Courage? A sister who carries her own weight? Not exactly.
"Mary has chosen what is better..."
And there it is. The infamous statement that has become the mantra that separates the "busy women" from the "spiritual ones". Only i suspect we've misinterpreted Jesus' meaning.
Jesus looks Martha in the eye and says (i'm paraphrasing): "You want me to help you? Great. Join your sister and have a seat."
And this is Martha's dilemma. Mine too. Most days, i'd love to have a seat. i'd love to set the list aside. Prioritize my day and choose to "sit with Jesus". Like Mary. But i just don't think it's as simple as that. Something tells me that's not what Jesus meant.
At the risk of repeating myself, Jesus did not say to Martha "Stop being busy". "Stop preparing dinner." He said Mary's choice was better. That sitting at His feet and listening to His teaching was better than being distracted by the list and the pressure. He said that to sit and listen was better than being worried and anxious about many things.
Considering Jesus' comment in the context of all of Scripture is helpful here. Over and over and over again as people met Jesus, they fell at His feet. In worship.* Mary's position at Jesus' feet is not just a coincidence of the seating arrangement. She chooses to be there because she wants to worship Him. She adores Him. And her position gives her heart away.
Mary's nearness to Jesus is the picture, the illustration, of what He longs for for Martha.
It's not the sitting that is better.
It's the worship.
The one thing needed, intimacy with Jesus, is found in the posture of Mary's soul....This is Jesus' invitation to Martha. To engage her heart with His in devotion.
Such a posture can be enjoyed literally at His feet, as this photograph so beautifully illustrates. But intimacy with the Savior is not limited by location. Jesus' engraved invitation might have read something like this:
...in the kitchen.
...Or in the living room.
...Or in the office.
....Or in the van.
...Or in the gym.
...Or in the darkness of a parking lot after a very long day, at 9:30 at night.
It isn't about physical proximity. It's about a heart screaming for intimacy with the Savior. And He isn't limited by location.
Can i get an "AMEN"?
*Consider Jairus, and the woman with the bleeding condition, and the man with leprosy, an dthe women who were met on the road by the risen Savior....each of these fell down before Him and worshipped Him,
Thank you, Angela.
It's the punch line to our story.
Jesus comes to Martha's house.
While He is teaching, she is slaving away in the kitchen,
"distracted by things that had to be done."
(If you think i'm being sarcastic, you've missed a few blogs...
you might want to back up.)
Meanwhile, her sister sits at the feet of the Savior, soaking in His presence and His teaching.
When Martha reaches the end of her rope,
she unloads on Jesus and demands that He get her some help ---
preferably from her o-so-content sister.
i am on the tail end of one of the busiest seasons i've had in a very long time. One evening, after a particularly long day, i got into my car at 9:30ish and it was all i could do not to cry. i wasn't sad, or angry, or discouraged. i was just so tired... and it seemed like the only thing to do.
i'm thinking Martha felt that way too. And Jesus knew how tired she was. He knew how hard she had worked. He knew that she was doing her best to honor Him and provide for their friends. It's why i love this story. He didn't yell at her. He didn't compare her to "the good sister". He didn't really even tell her what to do.
He looked into her soul (think Psalm 139:23-25) and saw just what Angela described. Her anxiety, bitterness, resentment and self-pity overflowed from the emptiness of her soul. Jesus knew that her demanding outburst really reflected a heart screaming for intimacy with Him.
And so He offered her an invitation.
"Only one thing is needed."
Seriously? (i respond in my sanctified imagination to Jesus' remark.)
Yes, Susan. (He patiently and tenderly responds.)
Only one thing.
One.
i hear it, and i sigh with hope and expectation. What is the "one thing"? Time? Energy? Courage? A sister who carries her own weight? Not exactly.
"Mary has chosen what is better..."
And there it is. The infamous statement that has become the mantra that separates the "busy women" from the "spiritual ones". Only i suspect we've misinterpreted Jesus' meaning.
Jesus looks Martha in the eye and says (i'm paraphrasing): "You want me to help you? Great. Join your sister and have a seat."
And this is Martha's dilemma. Mine too. Most days, i'd love to have a seat. i'd love to set the list aside. Prioritize my day and choose to "sit with Jesus". Like Mary. But i just don't think it's as simple as that. Something tells me that's not what Jesus meant.
At the risk of repeating myself, Jesus did not say to Martha "Stop being busy". "Stop preparing dinner." He said Mary's choice was better. That sitting at His feet and listening to His teaching was better than being distracted by the list and the pressure. He said that to sit and listen was better than being worried and anxious about many things.
Considering Jesus' comment in the context of all of Scripture is helpful here. Over and over and over again as people met Jesus, they fell at His feet. In worship.* Mary's position at Jesus' feet is not just a coincidence of the seating arrangement. She chooses to be there because she wants to worship Him. She adores Him. And her position gives her heart away.
Mary's nearness to Jesus is the picture, the illustration, of what He longs for for Martha.
It's not the sitting that is better.
It's the worship.
The one thing needed, intimacy with Jesus, is found in the posture of Mary's soul....This is Jesus' invitation to Martha. To engage her heart with His in devotion.
Such a posture can be enjoyed literally at His feet, as this photograph so beautifully illustrates. But intimacy with the Savior is not limited by location. Jesus' engraved invitation might have read something like this:
Martha, Martha
You are cordially invited
to the one thing needed.
Worship Me.
At any time.
In any place.
...in the kitchen.
...Or in the living room.
...Or in the office.
....Or in the van.
...Or in the gym.
...Or in the darkness of a parking lot after a very long day, at 9:30 at night.
It isn't about physical proximity. It's about a heart screaming for intimacy with the Savior. And He isn't limited by location.
Can i get an "AMEN"?
*Consider Jairus, and the woman with the bleeding condition, and the man with leprosy, an dthe women who were met on the road by the risen Savior....each of these fell down before Him and worshipped Him,
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Two wrongs and a right
i have a vivid memory this morning as i ponder this installment on Martha's story. i was in the car with Hannah...she was probably in middle school...and i was recounting for her all of my duties and responsibilities for the day. Without missing a beat (and not meaning to be disrespectful) she responded: "Don't you ever relax, mom? Don't you ever get tired of having a list of things to do?"
i wonder if Mary ever asked Martha something similar?
Just to recap my meanderings about her story...
i wonder if Mary ever asked Martha something similar?
Just to recap my meanderings about her story...
- Martha was distracted. i feel sure she would have loved to have been sitting with Jesus, savoring His every Word.
- By all of things that had to be done. i suspect, if she had a "to do" list, hers would trump mine on my busiest day.
- She finally lost it. Her frustration got the best of her and she reprimanded the Savior. Wow.
- And Jesus didn't yell at her. He was more worried about her soul than about her attitude.
i know it may seem as if i'm dragging this out...but trust me when i say that i'm just getting started :-). i love this stuff. i'll move on before too long, but this is too good to pass up.
Looking again as if at a snapshot from Martha's life with Jesus, it's curious to me that He did not chastise Martha for being busy. Over the years, as i've heard this story in the context of "busy-is-bad", somehow i've assumed that Jesus wanted Martha to stop being busy.
But Jesus didn't say,
"Stop working. Stop preparing. Never mind the dinner."
He really didn't even tell Martha what to do.
Am i the only one who thought that was in there somewhere?????
Jesus was a pretty busy man. Perusing his personal photo album, i'm hard-pressed to find Him relaxing. His days were filled with meaningful interactions and activity. Check out the snapshots included just on the Matthew 14 page of the scrapbook...exhausting day. No rest for the weary. Literally.
Contrary to my own mis-interpretation, it's not Martha's busy-ness that caused Jesus' gentle reprimand. His response to her impertinent demand has little to do with her schedule. Isn't that good news?
And one more erroneous conclusion, while we're at it. This is a pet peeve....so skip the next few paragraphs if you think i've already beaten a dead horse. Please notice that Jesus did not say: "Why can't you be more like Mary?" Go ahead. Admit it. You've looked at this snapshot and assumed that --- even if He didn't say it --- that's what Jesus thought. (Picture the little bubble above His head with those words...ugh.)
Jesus never minced words.
As you flip through the pages of His story, if Jesus had something to say,
He said it.
And He never said: "Why can't you be more like your sister?"
Jesus did not want Martha to be like Mary. Jesus wanted Martha to be Martha. After all, and this is important, He created her. She was His "work of art"*. He had designed her, calculated and planned her deliberate creation long before the foundation of the world. If Jesus wanted Martha to be more like Mary, He would have made her so. Martha was special and unique (if a bit bossy). And Jesus liked her that way.
Isn't that intriguing????
This is why i love this snapshot of Martha. i feel sad that it is so often dismissed, as if it's an embarrassment. We either skip the picture...because we've already seen it...or we look at it with disdain and hope not to be like poor Martha.
But what if we refused to turn the page? What if we considered this really as one snapshot in the context of a whole album of pictures from Martha's life? What if we took the time to see what really happened here?
This is not a picture of Jesus chastising Martha for her impertinence.
It's not a picture of the Savior telling her to stop being busy.
It's not a picture of Him wishing that Martha was more like Mary.
It's a snapshot of an invitation. An invitation that Martha could not refuse.
*check out Ephesians 2:10
Sunday, September 23, 2012
WWJND...is that allowed?
i have spent much of my life desiring more from my relationship with Jesus, feeling guilty for having less, and becoming complacent in my disappointment. It just doesn't seem possible to achieve the presumably quiet, contemplative life that Mary enjoys.
i love to teach and write and be with women, but there are only so many hours in the day. Our children are grown and we've begun a new chapter in our lives with them, but i will always be their mom...and now there are four! i have family that i love and i long for time to spend with them. i have friends that are neglected, too. There is a stack of books on my desk that grows almost weekly with "must-read" recommendations. Life is full. Expectations never stop. Every season is demanding.
i am distracted by things that have to be done. But you know this.
i have made attempts over the years to set priorities, organize my life, balance my schedule. i have used every tool on the market, both philosophical and technological. Balance eludes me. i wonder if it's even possible.
And sometimes i feel stuck. Right here. In this moment. In this snapshot. i am distracted. i am short-tempered. i am snappy with Jesus. Much like Martha....who reached the end of her hospitable rope and let Jesus have it.
"Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me."
Again, love this sister....while holding my breath, waiting.
WWJD? (Corny. i know. But you knew it was coming.) What will Jesus do? And that's important...i'll get to it. But first, what's really intriguing, what reveals much about Jesus and His love for Martha is what He does not do. (WWJND. i know i'm tampering with the near-sacred acronym. Coudn't be helped.)
"But the Lord answered her, 'Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.'"
Isn't it crazy that Jesus does not rebuke Martha for her impertinence? He does not scold her, demanding an explanation for her outburst. The infamous "mom" line would have served the Savior well here: "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME IN THAT TONE OF VOICE!"
Don't you think it's interesting that Jesus gave Martha the freedom to be frustrated?
It seems worth noting that i see images in some detail as i study this little family photo, but Jesus sees much more. He sees beyond the sepia toned expression on Martha's face. He sees more than the kitchen towel flung over her shoulder as her hands are placed on her hips in aggravation. To quote the Psalmist, Jesus "searches [Martha's] heart ... and knows her anxious thoughts..."
He knows the state of her soul, and He is more concerned for her distraction, her worry and anxiety than He is for her disrespect.
Psalm 51:6 is a reminder that Jesus "desires truth", even if its delivery is less than gracious.
Martha is safe with Jesus.
Safe to be frustrated.
Safe to be angry.
Safe to be discouraged.
Safe to be exhausted.
Don't you love Him for that?
i love to teach and write and be with women, but there are only so many hours in the day. Our children are grown and we've begun a new chapter in our lives with them, but i will always be their mom...and now there are four! i have family that i love and i long for time to spend with them. i have friends that are neglected, too. There is a stack of books on my desk that grows almost weekly with "must-read" recommendations. Life is full. Expectations never stop. Every season is demanding.
i am distracted by things that have to be done. But you know this.
i have made attempts over the years to set priorities, organize my life, balance my schedule. i have used every tool on the market, both philosophical and technological. Balance eludes me. i wonder if it's even possible.
And sometimes i feel stuck. Right here. In this moment. In this snapshot. i am distracted. i am short-tempered. i am snappy with Jesus. Much like Martha....who reached the end of her hospitable rope and let Jesus have it.
"Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me."
Again, love this sister....while holding my breath, waiting.
WWJD? (Corny. i know. But you knew it was coming.) What will Jesus do? And that's important...i'll get to it. But first, what's really intriguing, what reveals much about Jesus and His love for Martha is what He does not do. (WWJND. i know i'm tampering with the near-sacred acronym. Coudn't be helped.)
"But the Lord answered her, 'Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.'"
Isn't it crazy that Jesus does not rebuke Martha for her impertinence? He does not scold her, demanding an explanation for her outburst. The infamous "mom" line would have served the Savior well here: "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME IN THAT TONE OF VOICE!"
Don't you think it's interesting that Jesus gave Martha the freedom to be frustrated?
It seems worth noting that i see images in some detail as i study this little family photo, but Jesus sees much more. He sees beyond the sepia toned expression on Martha's face. He sees more than the kitchen towel flung over her shoulder as her hands are placed on her hips in aggravation. To quote the Psalmist, Jesus "searches [Martha's] heart ... and knows her anxious thoughts..."
He knows the state of her soul, and He is more concerned for her distraction, her worry and anxiety than He is for her disrespect.
Psalm 51:6 is a reminder that Jesus "desires truth", even if its delivery is less than gracious.
Martha is safe with Jesus.
Safe to be frustrated.
Safe to be angry.
Safe to be discouraged.
Safe to be exhausted.
Don't you love Him for that?
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Distracted.
Leslie and i were driving to the beach to surprise my mom for her birthday. We stopped for gas and a snack, picking up our conversation right where we left off as i pulled back onto the highway. After about twenty minutes, i wondered out loud why the scenery looked vaguely familiar. Turning to my trusty GPS, i realized that i had been so distracted by our conversation that i had turned the wrong way on the highway and went back the way we had come.....rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! i wish that i could site that as unusual, but it's probably more typical than i'd care to admit.
Distractions. Email. Text messages. Worry. Facebook. Pinterest. TV. Fear. Blogs.
It's one of the reasons i love this story. Especially in this season these few verses resonate with pages from my own journal.
"Mary...sat at the Lord's feet listening to what [Jesus] said. But Martha was distracted..."
Distracted. "Unable to concentrate because one's mind is preoccupied."
Interesting that Martha's world was much less techno-savvy than mine, but she, too, was distracted.
And she's never lived that down.
i suspect that on some level Martha would have loved the privilege of joining Mary. i can imagine that it would have been a relief to sit for a while and enjoy the company. i wonder if she tried to concentrate on what the Savior was saying? If maybe she tried, briefly, to take a break and listen...only to be preoccupied....
Sounds familiar. How often have i determined to pray, started off highly engaged and, within minutes...lost. Yesterday, i picked up a worthy book to read just one chapter, and only made it through three pages. Sigh.
"Martha was distracted by all the preparation that had to be made..."
Here's a detail that most of us have missed as we've looked at this familiar photo over and over again. Luke [the author] describes Martha being distracted, preoccupied, by things that had to be done.
Pretty much every Sunday morning, i take the time to draw out my schedule on graph paper. People make fun of me for this because i do know how to use Outlook and i know i can actually print my calendar. But there is something helpful for me about actually drawing the calendar and using my colored markers to organize my week.
Martha had guests in her home. It was dinnertime. Typically, preparations for guests would have begun long before sunrise, but it is probable that Martha didn't know Jesus was coming with an entourage (not having the benefit of an "OMW" text*). There was water to be hauled and boiled, chickens to be killed and plucked, wine to be pressed and wheat to be ground. i don't expect that there was much "fluff".
Somehow i think we've pictured her making too much of things, as if she was trying to impress people. Like the other Martha of our day: whipping up a centerpiece out of twigs and berries, serving a decadent and magnificent meal, finished off with a refreshing but light dessert.
But that's not the way Luke pictures her.
Look at the photograph again. Martha was distracted by preparations that had to be made.
i feel such a sisterhood with this woman. Sigh. Again.
*code in our family for "on my way"
Distractions. Email. Text messages. Worry. Facebook. Pinterest. TV. Fear. Blogs.
It's one of the reasons i love this story. Especially in this season these few verses resonate with pages from my own journal.
"Mary...sat at the Lord's feet listening to what [Jesus] said. But Martha was distracted..."
Distracted. "Unable to concentrate because one's mind is preoccupied."
Interesting that Martha's world was much less techno-savvy than mine, but she, too, was distracted.
And she's never lived that down.
i suspect that on some level Martha would have loved the privilege of joining Mary. i can imagine that it would have been a relief to sit for a while and enjoy the company. i wonder if she tried to concentrate on what the Savior was saying? If maybe she tried, briefly, to take a break and listen...only to be preoccupied....
Sounds familiar. How often have i determined to pray, started off highly engaged and, within minutes...lost. Yesterday, i picked up a worthy book to read just one chapter, and only made it through three pages. Sigh.
"Martha was distracted by all the preparation that had to be made..."
Here's a detail that most of us have missed as we've looked at this familiar photo over and over again. Luke [the author] describes Martha being distracted, preoccupied, by things that had to be done.
Pretty much every Sunday morning, i take the time to draw out my schedule on graph paper. People make fun of me for this because i do know how to use Outlook and i know i can actually print my calendar. But there is something helpful for me about actually drawing the calendar and using my colored markers to organize my week.
- Office stuff - orange.
- Meetings with people - purple.
- Personal stuff - pink.
Martha had guests in her home. It was dinnertime. Typically, preparations for guests would have begun long before sunrise, but it is probable that Martha didn't know Jesus was coming with an entourage (not having the benefit of an "OMW" text*). There was water to be hauled and boiled, chickens to be killed and plucked, wine to be pressed and wheat to be ground. i don't expect that there was much "fluff".
Somehow i think we've pictured her making too much of things, as if she was trying to impress people. Like the other Martha of our day: whipping up a centerpiece out of twigs and berries, serving a decadent and magnificent meal, finished off with a refreshing but light dessert.
But that's not the way Luke pictures her.
Look at the photograph again. Martha was distracted by preparations that had to be made.
i feel such a sisterhood with this woman. Sigh. Again.
*code in our family for "on my way"
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Sisters...
Martha's most famous moment. Regardless of the many times that she had been a delightful hostess in the past, or how often she had managed on her own without her sister's help, this one moment when she lost her composure and demanded the Savior's attention, this is the one moment captured in time for women in future generations to contemplate.
"As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparation that had to be made [sound familiar?]. She came to him and ask, 'Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
If Martha had been asked to submit a snapshot for these pages of Scripture, i doubt she would have chosen the moment captured by Luke in these verses. It is clear that she has gotten off on the wrong foot right away. Having spent hours at the market, in the garden, and over hot coals preparing for their guests, Martha comes out of the kitchen wiping the sweat from her furrowed brow. As she makes eye contact with sister Mary, she sighs heavily. While she has been furiously working in the kitchen, Mary is seated comfortably at the feet of the Savior...hanging on to His every word.
Having reached the end of her hospitable rope, and clearly unable to guilt her sister into doing her share of the work by giving her "the look", Martha has had enough. i wonder what did it, don't you? i can imagine Martha bringing in the placemats to set on the table, and Mary --- just at that moment, sighing with content. Martha snapped.
And this is the photo that we've placed on the mantle of busy womanhood. Martha giving Jesus a "dressing down".
i can empathize. i have sisters, too,. My older sister had an aversion to doing dishes. Almost nightly, as we were excused from the dinner table to begin the chore of cleaning the kitchen, Leslie would declare an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Just as the soap bubbled up in the sink, she would disappear --- only to return as the last dish was dried and put away. (i suspect Leslie would tell the story differently...but it's my blog.)
The story is not told in great detail, but as we look at this one photograph, our imagination assumes that Martha was confidently brash and bold. Mary was quiet and unobtrusive. Martha was obssessed with preparations and busy-ness. Mary was a sanguine, reflective sister given to long hours of reading and daydreaming. Martha had a high standard of perfection. Mary was casual and laid back. Martha was so consumed with duty and details that she ignored her guests. Mary enjoyed the guests so much that she did not want to leave the gathering to help with the preparations.
Maybe. But that's alot of "concluding" from one snapshot.
To be continued.
"As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparation that had to be made [sound familiar?]. She came to him and ask, 'Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
If Martha had been asked to submit a snapshot for these pages of Scripture, i doubt she would have chosen the moment captured by Luke in these verses. It is clear that she has gotten off on the wrong foot right away. Having spent hours at the market, in the garden, and over hot coals preparing for their guests, Martha comes out of the kitchen wiping the sweat from her furrowed brow. As she makes eye contact with sister Mary, she sighs heavily. While she has been furiously working in the kitchen, Mary is seated comfortably at the feet of the Savior...hanging on to His every word.
Having reached the end of her hospitable rope, and clearly unable to guilt her sister into doing her share of the work by giving her "the look", Martha has had enough. i wonder what did it, don't you? i can imagine Martha bringing in the placemats to set on the table, and Mary --- just at that moment, sighing with content. Martha snapped.
And this is the photo that we've placed on the mantle of busy womanhood. Martha giving Jesus a "dressing down".
i can empathize. i have sisters, too,. My older sister had an aversion to doing dishes. Almost nightly, as we were excused from the dinner table to begin the chore of cleaning the kitchen, Leslie would declare an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Just as the soap bubbled up in the sink, she would disappear --- only to return as the last dish was dried and put away. (i suspect Leslie would tell the story differently...but it's my blog.)
The story is not told in great detail, but as we look at this one photograph, our imagination assumes that Martha was confidently brash and bold. Mary was quiet and unobtrusive. Martha was obssessed with preparations and busy-ness. Mary was a sanguine, reflective sister given to long hours of reading and daydreaming. Martha had a high standard of perfection. Mary was casual and laid back. Martha was so consumed with duty and details that she ignored her guests. Mary enjoyed the guests so much that she did not want to leave the gathering to help with the preparations.
Maybe. But that's alot of "concluding" from one snapshot.
To be continued.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
i've been gone for a few days. Delightfully distracted by the wedding celebration of my daughter. Today i have a bad case of the "what-was-i-doing-this-time-last-week" blues. Sigh.
To make matters worse, i have realized that, while i was knee-deep in wedding planning, summer slipped away. The pool is closed. The traffic is backed up at 8:00 a.m. And my calendar is full.
Busy. Everybody's suddenly busy.
i used to take quiet pride in my busy-ness. As if somehow, the busier that i was, the more important i must be. When people would ask, "How are you?" i would answer, "Busy. Good, just busy." And if i were really in the zone i would rattle off my schedule, just to impress. "Well, i have training for our leaders this weekend, and i need to finish writing lessons. And next week i have a meeting with regional women's leaders and our kick-off is on Thursday. i have meetings with four potential leaders....and on and on,..." And it worked. People would say things like, "Wow. i don't know how you keep everything together." Score. Points for me.
Ugh.
One day, as a result of a fairly humiliating encounter, i realized that 1) i am not a highly paid physician and 2) no one's life depends on my "getting the job done". Several years later, i hope i'm a little less intense (don't laugh) and, perhaps, not as desperate to impress people with my amazing ability to keep-the-plates spinning. i've certainly dropped and shattered my share of said plates, at some expense to people that i love. i'm slow, but at least i'm aware.....
There does seem to be an increasing cultural appreciation for women who can "do everything". Every room needs a "mom". Every team needs a "coach". Every troop needs a "leader". Every committee needs a "chair"..... the laundry needs to be done, and the groceries put away, the library books returned, and the school yearbook ordered. For many women there is a deadline to meet, a client to please, and a plane to catch.
i'm wondering if anyone has time to think anymore. To plan. To pray. We don't spend time alone with the Lord. We don't read quality books. We don't study. But we are busy.
The spiritual spin on this syndrome can be found in Luke 10. You know her...she's the hero of every i-must-keep-the-plates-spinning woman of our generation. Mary's poor sister, Martha. Martha of Bethany has become the poster-child for Christian busy women. Women who contend that they just can't help that they are prone to over-commitment, to hyper-busyness, to "highly paid physician" intensity. They are, after all, more like Martha than Mary. It can't be helped.
May i gently say, "Malarky"? (i am certain that i just aged myself. That was my dad's saying.)
i have learned over the years that this "I-am-like-Martha" mentality is 1) a smokescreen for something else and 2) not at all good exegisis of the Scripture (that's a fancy way of saying 'application or interpretation').
The text found in Luke 10 is not a study on personalities. It is not the Holy Spirit's tool to advocate "a Mary heart in a Martha world" (no slam on the book...i read it). It doesn't even fairly represent the "other sister" on its own. It's a snapshot.
And you know how i feel about snapshots.
What was i doing this time last week? Sleepover in the bridal suite with Hannah and her friends, my mom and other girl-family members...putting together gifts for our hotel guests...in sand buckets with shovels. The wedding was at the beach. Smile.
To be continued.
To make matters worse, i have realized that, while i was knee-deep in wedding planning, summer slipped away. The pool is closed. The traffic is backed up at 8:00 a.m. And my calendar is full.
Busy. Everybody's suddenly busy.
i used to take quiet pride in my busy-ness. As if somehow, the busier that i was, the more important i must be. When people would ask, "How are you?" i would answer, "Busy. Good, just busy." And if i were really in the zone i would rattle off my schedule, just to impress. "Well, i have training for our leaders this weekend, and i need to finish writing lessons. And next week i have a meeting with regional women's leaders and our kick-off is on Thursday. i have meetings with four potential leaders....and on and on,..." And it worked. People would say things like, "Wow. i don't know how you keep everything together." Score. Points for me.
Ugh.
One day, as a result of a fairly humiliating encounter, i realized that 1) i am not a highly paid physician and 2) no one's life depends on my "getting the job done". Several years later, i hope i'm a little less intense (don't laugh) and, perhaps, not as desperate to impress people with my amazing ability to keep-the-plates spinning. i've certainly dropped and shattered my share of said plates, at some expense to people that i love. i'm slow, but at least i'm aware.....
There does seem to be an increasing cultural appreciation for women who can "do everything". Every room needs a "mom". Every team needs a "coach". Every troop needs a "leader". Every committee needs a "chair"..... the laundry needs to be done, and the groceries put away, the library books returned, and the school yearbook ordered. For many women there is a deadline to meet, a client to please, and a plane to catch.
i'm wondering if anyone has time to think anymore. To plan. To pray. We don't spend time alone with the Lord. We don't read quality books. We don't study. But we are busy.
The spiritual spin on this syndrome can be found in Luke 10. You know her...she's the hero of every i-must-keep-the-plates-spinning woman of our generation. Mary's poor sister, Martha. Martha of Bethany has become the poster-child for Christian busy women. Women who contend that they just can't help that they are prone to over-commitment, to hyper-busyness, to "highly paid physician" intensity. They are, after all, more like Martha than Mary. It can't be helped.
May i gently say, "Malarky"? (i am certain that i just aged myself. That was my dad's saying.)
i have learned over the years that this "I-am-like-Martha" mentality is 1) a smokescreen for something else and 2) not at all good exegisis of the Scripture (that's a fancy way of saying 'application or interpretation').
The text found in Luke 10 is not a study on personalities. It is not the Holy Spirit's tool to advocate "a Mary heart in a Martha world" (no slam on the book...i read it). It doesn't even fairly represent the "other sister" on its own. It's a snapshot.
And you know how i feel about snapshots.
What was i doing this time last week? Sleepover in the bridal suite with Hannah and her friends, my mom and other girl-family members...putting together gifts for our hotel guests...in sand buckets with shovels. The wedding was at the beach. Smile.
To be continued.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Beauty
i don’t really want to get into the subject of wives submitting to husbands, or women submitting to men in the context of church leadership, but it has been on my mind lately…so here you go. Consider this from Peter: “For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful. They were submissive to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her master. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear.”
They made themselves beautiful by submitting to their husbands.
Sarah, the example, obeyed Abraham and called him her master. She did what was right and did not give way to fear.
We should do the same. End of story.
Wow. Talk about unpopular. This may be the least “shared” blog in the (short) history of blogging. O well…here i am…not giving way to fear .
While i could fill a lot of space with commentary on these verses, what strikes me every time i read them is Peter’s use of Sarah as the trendsetter of submission. This was Holy Spirit-inspired genius. Why? Because no woman could “story top” Sarah’s adventurous marriage to Abraham.
Abraham was a man of great faith. He was, after all, the father of a nation. He is best known as the father of Isaac, the uncle of Lot, the one with whom God covenanted great blessing. He was what we might call a “rock star” on the stage of Christian History. Being married to him might have been like being married to Billy Graham (sorry Ruth).
But he is also the man who sent his bride into the harem of a king. Twice. Genesis 12 and Genesis 20 each recount Abraham’s fearful response as first an Egyptian pharaoh and then a neighboring king were enamored with the beauty of Sarah. Both times, Abraham instructed Sarah to lie in order to protect himself…and both times she obeyed…and both times she was taken into the king’s household under false pretense. Can you imagine????
And both times, God protected her.
Sarah obeyed Abraham. She did not give way to fear. She put her hope in God. And God was faithful.
This is not a commentary on the actions of Abraham. Clearly, God’s faithful care of Sarah does not mitigate his sin. What’s important to note is Sarah’s trust --- not in Abraham, but in God. Abraham would fail her. But God would not. Sarah knew that her responsibility was to put her hope in God, submit to the leadership of the man that God had given her, and wait.
In my sanctified imagination, i do wonder what kind of conversation precipitated Sarah’s obedience. Surely she had some discussion with her husband about this strategy (especially the second time). But i can’t imagine that their interaction resembled the sitcom marriages that we are so familiar with today…i don’t expect that Sarah ridiculed and belittled Abraham. i know this because, in the end, she chose to submit to his plan.
And GOD did not fail.
Sisters, i know i’m treading on thin ice here. i’m not advocating participating in sin.* i don’t understand all of what happened in this ancient scenario. i do not know WHAT ABRAHAM WAS THINKING or why God allowed this particular chain of events. But i do know that the principles taken from God’s care of Sarah are applicable to our lives.
When i resist submitting to my husband (i know...you are stunned by that admission) --- or to my church leadership --- it’s mostly because i am afraid that he is wrong, and i (or someone i love) will suffer the consequences of his wrong-ness. And the truth is that sometimes he is wrong. And, sometimes, we do suffer.
But here’s what i know is always true: God never fails me. Never. Even in my suffering, and in the suffering of those i love. Even in the consequences of a not-so-great decision.
God has given me a husband who is not perfect. He is such a great man, but he is not perfect. What i hang onto from Peter’s text is that i don’t have to 1) manage his imperfection or 2) be afraid of his failure. i don't have to be passive aggressive...or manipulative. i don't have to say "i told you so". He can not be perfect and occasionally not be right and i do not have to be afraid. i can honor him, obey him, and put my hope in God.
i think it’s interesting that Sarah is described in these Genesis passages as “a very beautiful woman”. She certainly caught the eye of the royals in her day. But i wonder if her beauty was genetic, or were these men seeing the beauty described by Peter? The beauty of courageous submission. Of hopeful confidence in God. Of quiet, gentle strength.
In one week, my daughter will be married to a less-than-perfect-but-oh-so-awesome young man. She has not had a very good example in me...but i'm trusting the Lord to grow her up into a woman like Sarah. My prayer for her as a new bride is that she will put her hope in God. Do what is right. Not give way to fear. She'll never make the cover of Vanity Fair, but her faith will flourish and her husband will be blessed. Amen?
AN IMPORTANT NOTE!
*If you are being pressured to participate in sin, please seek wise counsel from a godly woman, a pastor or an elder! Abraham and Sarah did not have the benefit of a church family...of community...to help them in these difficult and dicey circumstances.
Another important note...lesser, but important:
Sarah was also less-than-perfect. Perhaps you will recall the sarcasm of her response to God's promise of a baby boy. Just a sidebar.
Monday, August 20, 2012
i had a minor crisis of faith today. i woke up to the sound of rain, with thunder in the not-so-distant background. i can't prove it conclusively, but intuitively i'm pretty certain that i have not been awakened by an early morning rain in...i don't know, months? But this morning, rain fell steadily from the moment i opened my eyes.
i'm not against rain. i know we need it, and typically i love a rainy, thunderstormy morning. (i know i'm stretching my language here. Work with me.) But today we had planned to host a church-wide "family picnic". The operative word being "picnic". Perhaps you're beginning to see my dilemma. 500 people planned to share fried chicken, potato salad, cole slaw, watermelon and banana pudding. On the lawn. Which, in itself, was daunting as the pitter-patter of raindrops greeted me first thing this morning. But equally frustrating (ok, perhaps more frustrating...which will reveal how self-serving i really am) is the fact that our little team of hospitality folks typically meet people at their cars as they arrive for church to receive their contribution of "side dish" (said potato salad, slaw, watermelon....) for our picnic. We had promised to meet them at their cars. And today, we would do that in the rain. UGH.
My very first thought at the sound of the downpour outside my window was, "Seriously, Lord? SERIOUSLY? You have got to be kidding me!" i huffed and puffed as i plowed through my closet for something to wear that was rain-worthy. (You don't want to know what i ended up with.) i sighed heavily, and repeatedly, as i dried my hair...which i knew was a waste of time (the drying -- not the sighing), but what's a girl to do? i grudgingly greeted my sweet husband. Whose birthday, by the way, was today.
As i drove to church, i was really struggling with serious disappointment. In the Lord. i just didn't get it. How could He possibly plan for this weather on this day to be for the good of His church? For my good? SERIOUSLY. i thought about things like, maybe i didn't pray enough about this day. Or maybe we hadn't sought the Lord about His desire for the day. Or maybe He really didn't care about our picnic. Or maybe He didn't care about my life at all (i know. Extreme) ... i knew i was treading into deep water (pun intended).
By His great grace, i remembered, ever-so-briefly, what i learned from Psalm 73. "Surely [without a doubt] God is good to Israel." Asaph then goes on to describe an incident much like mine... And while his circumstances were much more dire than the probability of a wet hem, the threat to my faith was no less serious. He describes an "embittered soul" and "brutish" demeanor toward God. That's where i was headed. If i've already said this somewhere, you'll have to forgive the repetition, but i will always love verses 16 & 17 of this psalm: "when i thought how to understand this [the audacity of the rain on my picnic] it seemed to me a wearisome task [mostly because there is not a good answer to "why"] until i went into the sanctuary of God..."
Until i went into the sanctuary. Into the sanctuary. What does that mean, exactly?
Well, i think it does mean acutally going into the sanctuary. Clearly, there is rich doctrine here about the significance of corporate worship for our personal walk with God (which, by the way is not personal mostly, but with people). But that's a point for another post (and believe me, i'll get to that). The interesting thing is that this morning, i did not have the luxury to wait until worship. My crisis was in my heart and mind, in my car, several hours before worship. And bitterness was creeping into my soul......
So i went into the sanctuary of Scripture. It's what i had at the moment. i started reciting every verse that i have committed to memory. Out loud. i didn't try to think up verses that i thought might apply specifically to this rainy day connundrum. i started with Philippians 1 and 2. (Don't be too impressed. i've been working on memorizing Philippians for three years. i'm halfway through chapter 2.) After the parts of Philippians that i know, i repeated verses from the Old Testament and some from the New. Verses about God. Verses about worry. Verses about sin, and prayer, and faith, and lack-of-faith. Anything that i could think of to arrest the brutish thinking that would cause my "foot to slip".
By the time i got to Starbucks (smile), my attitude had begun to shift. Ever so slightly, but i knew that my perspective was better. In the rain. As i left Starbucks, venti iced tea/no water/no ice in hand, i rehearsed "Great is Thy Faithfulness". With the windshield wipers keeping ryhthm. "All i have needed, thy hand hath provided...Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord unto me." Phew. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Swoosh.....great is thy faithfulness, Lord. Unto me.
When i met Chas to pick up the 600 pieces of fried chicken from Wal-Mart (Yes. Wal-Mart fries a really good chicken.), the lady in the deli remarked, "You must have a large congregation!" To which i replied, "Yes" And then i decided to share with her my faith crisis (which is not really like me at all): "When i woke up to the rain this morning, i thought, 'Seriously, Lord? Today?"
And then i heard the Holy Spirit from this sweet little deli lady say: "That's alright, child. That's His blessing rainin' down on your church today."
Indeed. Out of the mouth of the deli lady. And the Psalmist.
"Thy Word have i hid in my heart that i might not sin against Thee."
"Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path."
"In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God."
"If you love me, keep my commandments."
"If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish and it will be done for you."
Each of these truths were brought to bear on my faith as i watched the rain fall on our church picnic and struggled with my disappointment in God's plan for the day. The Word preserved me from sin. The Word helped me to think clearly and wisely. The Word renewed my love and refreshed my soul. Was this day perfect? Not by a long shot. But my faith grew today. "As for me, my feet had almost stumbled...until i went into the Sanctuary... my flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." (Psalm 73...my newest memory verse.)
The next time it rains on my parade (or my picnic), i hope i will not be so quick to forget.....
p.s. the picnic went off without a hitch. In the gym. Sigh ...
i'm not against rain. i know we need it, and typically i love a rainy, thunderstormy morning. (i know i'm stretching my language here. Work with me.) But today we had planned to host a church-wide "family picnic". The operative word being "picnic". Perhaps you're beginning to see my dilemma. 500 people planned to share fried chicken, potato salad, cole slaw, watermelon and banana pudding. On the lawn. Which, in itself, was daunting as the pitter-patter of raindrops greeted me first thing this morning. But equally frustrating (ok, perhaps more frustrating...which will reveal how self-serving i really am) is the fact that our little team of hospitality folks typically meet people at their cars as they arrive for church to receive their contribution of "side dish" (said potato salad, slaw, watermelon....) for our picnic. We had promised to meet them at their cars. And today, we would do that in the rain. UGH.
My very first thought at the sound of the downpour outside my window was, "Seriously, Lord? SERIOUSLY? You have got to be kidding me!" i huffed and puffed as i plowed through my closet for something to wear that was rain-worthy. (You don't want to know what i ended up with.) i sighed heavily, and repeatedly, as i dried my hair...which i knew was a waste of time (the drying -- not the sighing), but what's a girl to do? i grudgingly greeted my sweet husband. Whose birthday, by the way, was today.
As i drove to church, i was really struggling with serious disappointment. In the Lord. i just didn't get it. How could He possibly plan for this weather on this day to be for the good of His church? For my good? SERIOUSLY. i thought about things like, maybe i didn't pray enough about this day. Or maybe we hadn't sought the Lord about His desire for the day. Or maybe He really didn't care about our picnic. Or maybe He didn't care about my life at all (i know. Extreme) ... i knew i was treading into deep water (pun intended).
By His great grace, i remembered, ever-so-briefly, what i learned from Psalm 73. "Surely [without a doubt] God is good to Israel." Asaph then goes on to describe an incident much like mine... And while his circumstances were much more dire than the probability of a wet hem, the threat to my faith was no less serious. He describes an "embittered soul" and "brutish" demeanor toward God. That's where i was headed. If i've already said this somewhere, you'll have to forgive the repetition, but i will always love verses 16 & 17 of this psalm: "when i thought how to understand this [the audacity of the rain on my picnic] it seemed to me a wearisome task [mostly because there is not a good answer to "why"] until i went into the sanctuary of God..."
Until i went into the sanctuary. Into the sanctuary. What does that mean, exactly?
Well, i think it does mean acutally going into the sanctuary. Clearly, there is rich doctrine here about the significance of corporate worship for our personal walk with God (which, by the way is not personal mostly, but with people). But that's a point for another post (and believe me, i'll get to that). The interesting thing is that this morning, i did not have the luxury to wait until worship. My crisis was in my heart and mind, in my car, several hours before worship. And bitterness was creeping into my soul......
So i went into the sanctuary of Scripture. It's what i had at the moment. i started reciting every verse that i have committed to memory. Out loud. i didn't try to think up verses that i thought might apply specifically to this rainy day connundrum. i started with Philippians 1 and 2. (Don't be too impressed. i've been working on memorizing Philippians for three years. i'm halfway through chapter 2.) After the parts of Philippians that i know, i repeated verses from the Old Testament and some from the New. Verses about God. Verses about worry. Verses about sin, and prayer, and faith, and lack-of-faith. Anything that i could think of to arrest the brutish thinking that would cause my "foot to slip".
By the time i got to Starbucks (smile), my attitude had begun to shift. Ever so slightly, but i knew that my perspective was better. In the rain. As i left Starbucks, venti iced tea/no water/no ice in hand, i rehearsed "Great is Thy Faithfulness". With the windshield wipers keeping ryhthm. "All i have needed, thy hand hath provided...Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord unto me." Phew. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Swoosh.....great is thy faithfulness, Lord. Unto me.
When i met Chas to pick up the 600 pieces of fried chicken from Wal-Mart (Yes. Wal-Mart fries a really good chicken.), the lady in the deli remarked, "You must have a large congregation!" To which i replied, "Yes" And then i decided to share with her my faith crisis (which is not really like me at all): "When i woke up to the rain this morning, i thought, 'Seriously, Lord? Today?"
And then i heard the Holy Spirit from this sweet little deli lady say: "That's alright, child. That's His blessing rainin' down on your church today."
Indeed. Out of the mouth of the deli lady. And the Psalmist.
"Thy Word have i hid in my heart that i might not sin against Thee."
"Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path."
"In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God."
"If you love me, keep my commandments."
"If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish and it will be done for you."
Each of these truths were brought to bear on my faith as i watched the rain fall on our church picnic and struggled with my disappointment in God's plan for the day. The Word preserved me from sin. The Word helped me to think clearly and wisely. The Word renewed my love and refreshed my soul. Was this day perfect? Not by a long shot. But my faith grew today. "As for me, my feet had almost stumbled...until i went into the Sanctuary... my flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." (Psalm 73...my newest memory verse.)
The next time it rains on my parade (or my picnic), i hope i will not be so quick to forget.....
p.s. the picnic went off without a hitch. In the gym. Sigh ...
Sunday, August 12, 2012
i've been looking at pictures. It started with pictures of hannah for wedding projects, but at some point the children pulled out my old albums. Blowing the dust off, they are alternately amused and aghast as they browse through my awkward adolescence, one photograph at a time.
i remember a quote from a famous photographer, "A good snapshot stops a moment from running away." They do that, don't they? Moments...running away? The older we get, the faster they run! To be able to hang on to a few such moments, to preserve a glimpse of history, is more than an art form. It is a treasure.
Well, usually. Sometimes there's a picture included that makes me cringe. i tell the kids, "i actually thought i looked awesome in that outfit!" And my hair? We were discussing the era of bad perms today. i'm probably dating myself, but i was at least in my early 20's before i gave up the dream of having hair like Cher. i wish someone had loved me enough to urge me to let it go...
Fortunately, those snapshots are placed securely in their place on pages of my life. While each picture captures a moment in time (sometimes to my chagrin), the real power of the picture is discovered as it is enjoyed in context, together with other snapshots from days, months and years on either side of the occasion. They tell the story of a journey.
If a snapshot falls out, it's like a piece of the puzzle is missing (which is why i have to somehow get all the pictures of hannah that i've removed for this wedding back into their rightful places!). If it is not found, something crucial is mising. Without each moment, the story is incomplete.
On the other hand, setting a photograph on its own -- lifting it off the page to set solo on the mantel --- may lead to conclusions that are flawed, or at the very least, biased. That single pose is only one memory from a lifetime of moments, experiences, relationships and occasions. How grateful am i that my mother does not display a snapshot that captures the year of my teenage rebellion on her mantel?
Here's what's awesome about God. "All things work together for good..." All things. Every single thing. Every moment. Every snapshot. Every mistake, every dumb idea, every sorry decision. God works them together for good. It is a journey....and every single snapshot is important. Every photo in the album that illustrates my life contributes something to the story of my journey with God.
This is not a new thought for me. It is one that has resonated for quite some time. i'm just reminded today. Every photo is important. But it's import is discovered in the context of the whole album. Any one picture, lifted out of context, does not represent the whole story. There's always another snapshot, and another page. And with every turn of the page, my deep desire is that my "likeness" is more and more conformed to Christ (Rom. 8:29). That, in light of eternity, would be "good".
At least my hair looks better.....one can always hope.
i remember a quote from a famous photographer, "A good snapshot stops a moment from running away." They do that, don't they? Moments...running away? The older we get, the faster they run! To be able to hang on to a few such moments, to preserve a glimpse of history, is more than an art form. It is a treasure.
Well, usually. Sometimes there's a picture included that makes me cringe. i tell the kids, "i actually thought i looked awesome in that outfit!" And my hair? We were discussing the era of bad perms today. i'm probably dating myself, but i was at least in my early 20's before i gave up the dream of having hair like Cher. i wish someone had loved me enough to urge me to let it go...
Fortunately, those snapshots are placed securely in their place on pages of my life. While each picture captures a moment in time (sometimes to my chagrin), the real power of the picture is discovered as it is enjoyed in context, together with other snapshots from days, months and years on either side of the occasion. They tell the story of a journey.
If a snapshot falls out, it's like a piece of the puzzle is missing (which is why i have to somehow get all the pictures of hannah that i've removed for this wedding back into their rightful places!). If it is not found, something crucial is mising. Without each moment, the story is incomplete.
On the other hand, setting a photograph on its own -- lifting it off the page to set solo on the mantel --- may lead to conclusions that are flawed, or at the very least, biased. That single pose is only one memory from a lifetime of moments, experiences, relationships and occasions. How grateful am i that my mother does not display a snapshot that captures the year of my teenage rebellion on her mantel?
Here's what's awesome about God. "All things work together for good..." All things. Every single thing. Every moment. Every snapshot. Every mistake, every dumb idea, every sorry decision. God works them together for good. It is a journey....and every single snapshot is important. Every photo in the album that illustrates my life contributes something to the story of my journey with God.
This is not a new thought for me. It is one that has resonated for quite some time. i'm just reminded today. Every photo is important. But it's import is discovered in the context of the whole album. Any one picture, lifted out of context, does not represent the whole story. There's always another snapshot, and another page. And with every turn of the page, my deep desire is that my "likeness" is more and more conformed to Christ (Rom. 8:29). That, in light of eternity, would be "good".
At least my hair looks better.....one can always hope.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Heritage
i've been thinking today about heritage. Not my own, really, but my children's. Both of my children will be married this year...we have already welcomed a new daughter into our family and, in just a few weeks, we'll have a second son. It's very weird to have the door slamming shut on this chapter of motherhood. Great. But weird. (Not that i'm no longer a mother...just that i'm no longer... well, i'm not sure what. But it's different.)
Today was the first day of school for our Covenant Day* teachers.(i know it doesn't seem connected...hang with me. i'm going somewhere with this.) This morning, i had the privilege to be a guest at the worship service that began their year together. As i looked around, i realized that at least two of the teachers that i saw in the room were students at this school with my children. i don't know why that seems particularly special, but it does. And the really unusual thing is that many of their teachers were in that room today, too. Still teaching. My children's classmates have returned to CDS to teach. And the teachers who taught them have stayed there.
Maybe not a big deal, but today i am really grateful and somewhat overwhelmed by the heritage that our family enjoys at Christ Covenant and CDS. Our years as a part of this family have been less than perfect...and often painful. We have been disappointed. Our perspective has not always been full of faith. But hindsight is such a sweet gift from the Lord. Today, i am so committed to the theology of God's sovereignty in our lives, and i would not trade even one day of our history here.
These people taught my children to read. Hannah had such a hard time with her multiplication tables in 3rd grade and Peggy Keifer never gave up on her. Milas dreaded that 5th grade trip and Andrea Helmer convinced him that he could do it. Hannah played trumpet. Milas played baseball. They learned the catechism. And every major theme from Scripture. They sang worship songs. They led worship. Milas took a spiritual gifts class. Hannah helped in the 4 year old ABC class with Cindy Reeder.
It is incredible to me that at least two of the little girls who played jump rope with Hannah as kindergartners (i can still see her in her plaid jumper and red mary janes) will attend her wedding in just a few weeks. My mental scrapbook is full of pictures and themes that resonate with grace as i think about our years here as a family. Again, not perfect. But certainly a part of God's plan to prosper our family and to bless these children.
i am well aware that our story is somewhat unusual. People don't stay put today. They become disillusioned by the failure of teachers, leaders and peers...and they move on. Hoping for something less disappointing. i wonder if they find it?
i know, too, that my own failure has affected people here. Perhaps so much so that they have looked for friendship and family elsewhere. i am sad about that...
Anyway, our having "stayed" for all of these years...20+?.... is not at all a tribute to our godliness. It is a tribute to our God. He has been so gracious and faithful. It is His steadfast love that has held us and kept us. And this heritage among His people is His gift to us.
This evening i'm just grateful. My children, now becoming husbands and wives, are who they are in great part because of the heritage they enjoy. I'm very aware ...
* this is the school that is a part of our church ministry
Today was the first day of school for our Covenant Day* teachers.(i know it doesn't seem connected...hang with me. i'm going somewhere with this.) This morning, i had the privilege to be a guest at the worship service that began their year together. As i looked around, i realized that at least two of the teachers that i saw in the room were students at this school with my children. i don't know why that seems particularly special, but it does. And the really unusual thing is that many of their teachers were in that room today, too. Still teaching. My children's classmates have returned to CDS to teach. And the teachers who taught them have stayed there.
Maybe not a big deal, but today i am really grateful and somewhat overwhelmed by the heritage that our family enjoys at Christ Covenant and CDS. Our years as a part of this family have been less than perfect...and often painful. We have been disappointed. Our perspective has not always been full of faith. But hindsight is such a sweet gift from the Lord. Today, i am so committed to the theology of God's sovereignty in our lives, and i would not trade even one day of our history here.
These people taught my children to read. Hannah had such a hard time with her multiplication tables in 3rd grade and Peggy Keifer never gave up on her. Milas dreaded that 5th grade trip and Andrea Helmer convinced him that he could do it. Hannah played trumpet. Milas played baseball. They learned the catechism. And every major theme from Scripture. They sang worship songs. They led worship. Milas took a spiritual gifts class. Hannah helped in the 4 year old ABC class with Cindy Reeder.
It is incredible to me that at least two of the little girls who played jump rope with Hannah as kindergartners (i can still see her in her plaid jumper and red mary janes) will attend her wedding in just a few weeks. My mental scrapbook is full of pictures and themes that resonate with grace as i think about our years here as a family. Again, not perfect. But certainly a part of God's plan to prosper our family and to bless these children.
i am well aware that our story is somewhat unusual. People don't stay put today. They become disillusioned by the failure of teachers, leaders and peers...and they move on. Hoping for something less disappointing. i wonder if they find it?
i know, too, that my own failure has affected people here. Perhaps so much so that they have looked for friendship and family elsewhere. i am sad about that...
Anyway, our having "stayed" for all of these years...20+?.... is not at all a tribute to our godliness. It is a tribute to our God. He has been so gracious and faithful. It is His steadfast love that has held us and kept us. And this heritage among His people is His gift to us.
This evening i'm just grateful. My children, now becoming husbands and wives, are who they are in great part because of the heritage they enjoy. I'm very aware ...
* this is the school that is a part of our church ministry
Sunday, August 5, 2012
No longer stumped
It's Sunday. And not just any Sunday...Communion Sunday. i love Communion Sunday.
You know, there were a lot of years when communion would roll around and i would honestly sit in the pew and think to myself: "hmmm....what sin do i need to confess? i'm not sure i can think of anything." Really. i really actually thought that. (i'm fairly sure i wrote those words in my journal one time when i was going through the ACTS prayer model...i was stumped on the "confess" stage.) i might come up with a few typical sins if i really tried. Like the little issue that i have with pride. But i honestly believed that "coming to the Table" with my church family was more for them than for me.
The past few years i've learned a thing or two about my own sin. The first thing i've learned is that pride is not a "little issue". It's actually quite pervasive and incredibly destructive. If it was, actually, the "only" sin that i could come up with as i contemplated the sacrifice of the Living Savior on the cross, it would be enough to separate me from Him and send me to hell forever. Staggering.
But the other thing that i've learned (surely there's a more profound word to use here other than "thing", but i can't think of it) is that the inclination of my soul is commonly, if not exclusively, toward sin. Left to myself, i do not stretch Godward. Not in my heart, or my mind, or my actions. i am self-protective. Self-promoting. Self-satisfying. In short, i have made an idol out of myself.
This plays out in my life in a dozen ways throughout every single day. Just before getting to church this morning, the most important issue on my mind was what i would wear. Seriously. i'm almost 50. Going to the church where i have been among family for more than 20 years, and i'm still wondering "what will people think of me if i wear that?". (Issue No. 1 is why i think people even care what i wear...a notion that is in itself narcissitic.) i am like a small child who says "Look at me! Look at me!" AT CHURCH. (Does this sound like pride to you?) Ugh.
Communion Sunday. The psalmist begged the Lord, "Search me, O God, and know my heart. Test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting." i know there are offensive ways in me. A few years and a lot of heartache, and i'm no longer stumped by the "c" in ACTS*. i'm painfully aware of my offensive ways. And while, obviously, i don't have to wait on this particular day and time to deal with my sin before the Lord, i love that celebrating Communion leads me in the way everlasting.
One last thing :-) . i love Communion Sunday with my brothers & sisters, at my church. i love being served the "bread and wine" (aka crackers and juice) by men who have been willing to spend themselves on my behalf, to shepherd me and speak truth to me and pray for me. i love that we are on this journey together, my brothers & sisters and me. Our collective repentance knits our hearts together and brings glory to the Father. The rhythm of this corporate celebration breathes life into my soul and fuels my walk with God.
i left church almost 12 hours ago and i'm still basking in the restored joy of my salvation and the fellowship of a meal shared with my family. "Do this in remembrance of me..." Sobering. But so full of hope.
*If you are not familiar with the Christian-ease acronym for ACTS, no worries. It is a format for prayer that encourages us to express A-doration to God; C-onfess our sin; T-hank God and make S-upplication for our needs. A little formulaic, but helpful none-the-less. If you don't get stumped by the "c".
You know, there were a lot of years when communion would roll around and i would honestly sit in the pew and think to myself: "hmmm....what sin do i need to confess? i'm not sure i can think of anything." Really. i really actually thought that. (i'm fairly sure i wrote those words in my journal one time when i was going through the ACTS prayer model...i was stumped on the "confess" stage.) i might come up with a few typical sins if i really tried. Like the little issue that i have with pride. But i honestly believed that "coming to the Table" with my church family was more for them than for me.
The past few years i've learned a thing or two about my own sin. The first thing i've learned is that pride is not a "little issue". It's actually quite pervasive and incredibly destructive. If it was, actually, the "only" sin that i could come up with as i contemplated the sacrifice of the Living Savior on the cross, it would be enough to separate me from Him and send me to hell forever. Staggering.
But the other thing that i've learned (surely there's a more profound word to use here other than "thing", but i can't think of it) is that the inclination of my soul is commonly, if not exclusively, toward sin. Left to myself, i do not stretch Godward. Not in my heart, or my mind, or my actions. i am self-protective. Self-promoting. Self-satisfying. In short, i have made an idol out of myself.
This plays out in my life in a dozen ways throughout every single day. Just before getting to church this morning, the most important issue on my mind was what i would wear. Seriously. i'm almost 50. Going to the church where i have been among family for more than 20 years, and i'm still wondering "what will people think of me if i wear that?". (Issue No. 1 is why i think people even care what i wear...a notion that is in itself narcissitic.) i am like a small child who says "Look at me! Look at me!" AT CHURCH. (Does this sound like pride to you?) Ugh.
Communion Sunday. The psalmist begged the Lord, "Search me, O God, and know my heart. Test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting." i know there are offensive ways in me. A few years and a lot of heartache, and i'm no longer stumped by the "c" in ACTS*. i'm painfully aware of my offensive ways. And while, obviously, i don't have to wait on this particular day and time to deal with my sin before the Lord, i love that celebrating Communion leads me in the way everlasting.
One last thing :-) . i love Communion Sunday with my brothers & sisters, at my church. i love being served the "bread and wine" (aka crackers and juice) by men who have been willing to spend themselves on my behalf, to shepherd me and speak truth to me and pray for me. i love that we are on this journey together, my brothers & sisters and me. Our collective repentance knits our hearts together and brings glory to the Father. The rhythm of this corporate celebration breathes life into my soul and fuels my walk with God.
i left church almost 12 hours ago and i'm still basking in the restored joy of my salvation and the fellowship of a meal shared with my family. "Do this in remembrance of me..." Sobering. But so full of hope.
*If you are not familiar with the Christian-ease acronym for ACTS, no worries. It is a format for prayer that encourages us to express A-doration to God; C-onfess our sin; T-hank God and make S-upplication for our needs. A little formulaic, but helpful none-the-less. If you don't get stumped by the "c".
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Psalm 73...o the riches...
i've been studying Psalm 73. All summer. Seriously, i have read and re-read those 28 verses several dozen times...and still, every time i read them, i learn something new. i had thought that i would be "systematic" in my study, but instead i've just read the psalm most mornings and just asked the Lord to teach me what i need to know. (If you're following me on Twitter, sorry...this will be deja vu.) And so i've been thinking about the goodness of the Lord, always. And about the danger of comparing my journey to that of those around me. i've learned about perspective, and about the descent into despair. i've thought alot about how i define the "goodness of the Lord" --- not in my spiritual moments, but in my practical theology...in how i live and think and feel. It has occurred to me that "what you see is not what you get", that the horizontal view is short-lived. i've pondered the pathway to hope and joy in the midst of heartache...the pathway of worship. i've reminded myself that God is not a vending machine...He does not owe me anything, no matter what i "insert" in the deposit slot. i've thought alot about the things that i desire on earth besides Him, and what that's about. Today i've been thinking about what it means to "enter the sanctuary". Worship as a place and a posture. i want so much to make the Lord God my refuge. Every day. At all times. Here's my favorite verse: "Nevertheless, i am continually with you; you hold my right hand." How i love the Word. If i only had these verses, i would never plumb the depths. Sigh. So grateful.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Perhaps you are wondering about the lower case "i". No, it's not a typo (which would be weird, since i do it all the time. i know i said i was a slow learner, but seriously....). When i was in high school, i read several books by Ann Kiemel-Anderson. She employed the lower case "i". i wish i could remember her exact words (she's a poet...much more adept at language than i!), but the gist of her explanation for the lower case "i" was that, as a writer --- particularly one who writes personal stories and poetry --- the lower case "i" served as a constant reminder of the significant, foundational doctrine of the Sovereignty of God. The lower case "i", every time it occurred in her thoughts and found it's way to her writing, reminded Ann of God's greatness, His power and authority, His mercy and grace, His great work of grace and of her position before Him as His very small child. In reformed short-hand, we call this: "Big God, little me".
This is, perhaps, the primary arena of my personal temptation. i want to be great. i want to be appreciated, and respected, and admired, and adored. i want to be noticed. i. i. i. i.
Get the picture? To whatever degree Ann Kiemel-Anderson needed the reminder, she will always be my sister in the fight against my own flesh. Little me. Big God. Phew.
p.s. i found Ann Kiemel-Anderson on-line...after probably 35 years since i read her book. How crazy is this cyber world? Those years have been difficult for her. And still, there's that little "i". Check out her blog? http://annkiemel.blogspot.com/p/aboutann.html
This is, perhaps, the primary arena of my personal temptation. i want to be great. i want to be appreciated, and respected, and admired, and adored. i want to be noticed. i. i. i. i.
Get the picture? To whatever degree Ann Kiemel-Anderson needed the reminder, she will always be my sister in the fight against my own flesh. Little me. Big God. Phew.
p.s. i found Ann Kiemel-Anderson on-line...after probably 35 years since i read her book. How crazy is this cyber world? Those years have been difficult for her. And still, there's that little "i". Check out her blog? http://annkiemel.blogspot.com/p/aboutann.html
Saturday, July 28, 2012
First Thoughts
Blogging. Hmmm. Honestly, i have no idea what i'm getting into. At almost 50 years old, i have alot of opinions, and thoughts, and ideas...but i can't imagine that i have anything novel to say. Bookshelves are lined with the prolific and profound, and, i expect the blogging world is likewise loaded with insightful prose. So why "blog"?
If you know me, you know that i am full of words. i love language. And i love punctuation. The dots....the exclamation point...and the italic. So why not "blog"?
At the end of the day, this blog is my own life, in my own words. At least nobody's already told that story. It's about family, and friendship and faith. It's about the steadfast love of the Lord, the refuge that i find in His Word, and the enduring value of the church for my walk with God. My hope and prayer is that this venture will deepen my own faith and encourage yours.
i can predict no flashes of brillance. i am a slow learner; so God patiently uses the "thread" approach...themes of His grace & faithfulness thread their way through the messy tapestry of my life. The story won't be new, but it's mine, which means it will at least be unique (snuck in the italic).
Enjoy.
If you know me, you know that i am full of words. i love language. And i love punctuation. The dots....the exclamation point...and the italic. So why not "blog"?
At the end of the day, this blog is my own life, in my own words. At least nobody's already told that story. It's about family, and friendship and faith. It's about the steadfast love of the Lord, the refuge that i find in His Word, and the enduring value of the church for my walk with God. My hope and prayer is that this venture will deepen my own faith and encourage yours.
i can predict no flashes of brillance. i am a slow learner; so God patiently uses the "thread" approach...themes of His grace & faithfulness thread their way through the messy tapestry of my life. The story won't be new, but it's mine, which means it will at least be unique (snuck in the italic).
Enjoy.
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