There are many voices that I hear on a regular basis. Each of them has something different to say, and each of them seeks to gain my ear and to tell me who I am and what I am worth.
There is the voice of the district licensing board, which tries to convince me that I have no place of service in God's church.
There is the voice of the family member I spoke to recently who told me that, in light of recent events, that I should rethink my entire educational and career path.
There are the voices of my wife and kids telling me that I am loved and that I have value.
And so it goes - voice after voice vying for my attention and competing for my acceptance. Even my own voice gets into the act, going back and forth between the extremes - agreeing with the voices that tear me down one moment and telling me I am loved the next.
For so long I have believed that my job is to learn to listen to the positive voices and to ignore the negative voices, and thus to remain "healthy." Now I am coming to believe something different.
My job is not simply to ignore the negative voices but to ignore all the voices save the voice of the One, the voice of God. God doesn't tell me anything other than that I am God's beloved. That is the voice I need to hear and to pay attention to. It is the voice that will never lie to me - it will never tell me I am worthless and it will never tell me I am perfect.
It is only when I give absolute priority to the voice of God that I can truly hear and discern the other voices that surround me.
This is a challenging task, as the myriad other voices often clamor for attention and may seem to shout down any hope of hearing the quiet voice of God. But God's voice is persistent and I know that if I listen long enough, I will hear it.
Even now.
jB
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Why I am Contemplative
When someone says that they are a contemplative, that usually brings to mind one dominant image, that of a monk or nun sitting silently in a cell for hours on end, meditating on Scripture and praying, a la Thomas Merton or Madame Guyon or others.
Obviously, since I am a happily married man, this is not what I mean when I say that I am a contemplative.
Rather, what I mean by it is best reflected by the following quote from Henri Nouwen:
"A life that is not reflected on isn't worth living."
That is a phenomenal statement. I'm talking life-motto level of statements. I cuts to the core of how I feel about life, and it defines what I mean when I say that I am a contemplative.
I am someone who reflects on life. I try not to hold a belief without reflecting on it and knowing why I believe it. Because just as a life that is not reflected on isn't worth living, a belief held uncritically isn't worth believing.
I have to admit, though, that I wasn't always this way. Ask anyone who knew me as an undergrad student at Olivet Nazarene University. I was arrogant and assured of my own views and convinced that I needed to devote no time to reflection. The credit for my transformation goes to three things: God, Henri Nouwen's books and a man named Craig Keen.
Nouwen's writings showed a man who had wrestled with his beliefs and reflected on his life, and it showed me how such a life could be lived and how such a life was needed in the world around me. He inspired me to open my mind to the idea of living a life more contemplative.
Craig Keen didn't inspire me to reflect so much as dragged me kicking and screaming into reflection. His theology classes at ONU were difficult and he challenged his students to take the time to think, to really think about what we believed - to go beyond "I believe it because I was told to believe it" and come to "I believe it because I have considered the alternatives and know that it is true." Without the hand of Craig Keen pushing me in the small of the back, I might never have opened myself to the transforming power of God.
Of course, God did the hard work of actually transforming my heart and mind and it is God who gets the ultimate credit.
It is hard to overstate how important the concept of reflection is to me. It is the commitment to reflection that has led me down the road to where I am today. It is the commitment to reflection that helps me realize that I am where God wants me to be - even if I do not have a license and even if I never get ordained.
When all is said and done, if I could pick one characteristic of myself that people would be able to see and identify, it is this intense focus on reflection and contemplation.
Because I want to live a life worth living.
jB
Obviously, since I am a happily married man, this is not what I mean when I say that I am a contemplative.
Rather, what I mean by it is best reflected by the following quote from Henri Nouwen:
"A life that is not reflected on isn't worth living."
That is a phenomenal statement. I'm talking life-motto level of statements. I cuts to the core of how I feel about life, and it defines what I mean when I say that I am a contemplative.
I am someone who reflects on life. I try not to hold a belief without reflecting on it and knowing why I believe it. Because just as a life that is not reflected on isn't worth living, a belief held uncritically isn't worth believing.
I have to admit, though, that I wasn't always this way. Ask anyone who knew me as an undergrad student at Olivet Nazarene University. I was arrogant and assured of my own views and convinced that I needed to devote no time to reflection. The credit for my transformation goes to three things: God, Henri Nouwen's books and a man named Craig Keen.
Nouwen's writings showed a man who had wrestled with his beliefs and reflected on his life, and it showed me how such a life could be lived and how such a life was needed in the world around me. He inspired me to open my mind to the idea of living a life more contemplative.
Craig Keen didn't inspire me to reflect so much as dragged me kicking and screaming into reflection. His theology classes at ONU were difficult and he challenged his students to take the time to think, to really think about what we believed - to go beyond "I believe it because I was told to believe it" and come to "I believe it because I have considered the alternatives and know that it is true." Without the hand of Craig Keen pushing me in the small of the back, I might never have opened myself to the transforming power of God.
Of course, God did the hard work of actually transforming my heart and mind and it is God who gets the ultimate credit.
It is hard to overstate how important the concept of reflection is to me. It is the commitment to reflection that has led me down the road to where I am today. It is the commitment to reflection that helps me realize that I am where God wants me to be - even if I do not have a license and even if I never get ordained.
When all is said and done, if I could pick one characteristic of myself that people would be able to see and identify, it is this intense focus on reflection and contemplation.
Because I want to live a life worth living.
jB
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Why I am Rational
I am a thinker. I like to spend time thinking about ideas and how some ideas connect to other ideas and how changing one idea affects other ideas. I am a rational person, and that rationality extends to my faith and theology.
Let me unpack that a bit.
I believe that our faith - as much as is possible - must make sense. To be sure, there are aspects of theology that we will never understand completely. No matter how rational theology is, it will not be able to come to a logical understanding of the Trinity or of eternity. Such things are beyond human capability to understand.
However, that does not mean that we should throw up our hands, toss logic out the window and surrender to a faith that makes no sense and follows no logic. As Galileo famously said in response to a church stuck in irrational ways of thinking:
"I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason and intellect has intended us to forgo their use."
Amen. I couldn't agree more. And that is why I am resolutely rational in my approach to faith and theology.
To be clear, I do not believe that we can ever achieve a faith or theology that is completely logical. But I believe that we have an obligation to seek reasonable answers where they can be found. I further believe that we have a responsibility to not cop out and hide from this task.
To some it is more important to feel safe and comfortable with what they believe than it is to do the work of having a faith that is coherent and makes sense. Rather than put their God-given sense, reason and intellect to use, they end up believing a list of contradictory things that simply defy logic or reason.
When we refuse to be rational about our faith, we have no ground on which to discuss our faith with those who currently do not believe. We end up with conversations like this:
Person A: "How do you know the Bible is God's Word?"
Person B: "It says right here...*quotes Bible verse*."
Person A: "But I'm not sure the Bible is God's Word, so how does quoting the Bible prove it is?"
Person B: ...
And an opportunity to discuss matters of faith and theology is missed because Person B has never learned to approach their faith in a rational manner.
Logic matters in faith and theology. It certainly is not the only thing that matters, but it definitely plays an important role - at least in the way I approach it.
jB
Let me unpack that a bit.
I believe that our faith - as much as is possible - must make sense. To be sure, there are aspects of theology that we will never understand completely. No matter how rational theology is, it will not be able to come to a logical understanding of the Trinity or of eternity. Such things are beyond human capability to understand.
However, that does not mean that we should throw up our hands, toss logic out the window and surrender to a faith that makes no sense and follows no logic. As Galileo famously said in response to a church stuck in irrational ways of thinking:
"I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason and intellect has intended us to forgo their use."
Amen. I couldn't agree more. And that is why I am resolutely rational in my approach to faith and theology.
To be clear, I do not believe that we can ever achieve a faith or theology that is completely logical. But I believe that we have an obligation to seek reasonable answers where they can be found. I further believe that we have a responsibility to not cop out and hide from this task.
To some it is more important to feel safe and comfortable with what they believe than it is to do the work of having a faith that is coherent and makes sense. Rather than put their God-given sense, reason and intellect to use, they end up believing a list of contradictory things that simply defy logic or reason.
When we refuse to be rational about our faith, we have no ground on which to discuss our faith with those who currently do not believe. We end up with conversations like this:
Person A: "How do you know the Bible is God's Word?"
Person B: "It says right here...*quotes Bible verse*."
Person A: "But I'm not sure the Bible is God's Word, so how does quoting the Bible prove it is?"
Person B: ...
And an opportunity to discuss matters of faith and theology is missed because Person B has never learned to approach their faith in a rational manner.
Logic matters in faith and theology. It certainly is not the only thing that matters, but it definitely plays an important role - at least in the way I approach it.
jB
Monday, March 28, 2011
Why I am Tolerant
On a wall inside the seminary I briefly attended several years ago there is a plaque. On that plaque is a quote that I cannot remember word for word, but goes something like this:
"In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, tolerance; in all things, charity."
During my brief sojourn at this particular seminary, I loved walking into the building and seeing that statement. To me, it represented the ultimate goal of the church - to be a body of a whole bunch of different theological types united on the things that really matter.
Unfortunately, as is often the case, the quote on the wall turned out to be more naive idealism than actual reality. Everywhere I look, I see people who are either intolerant on everything or dreadfully confused as to what is truly essential. People fiercely fight when someone disagrees with them on hell or on predestination or even something as stupid as whether or not drinks should be allowed in the sanctuary (I've actually experienced that fight before). I can't help but think that such people have missed the point.
I am tolerant - or at least I try to be - because I am absolutely certain of one truth: The God that I love and worship is much, much bigger than anything I can imagine.
Even when I speak of God, I have to acknowledge that the words I use are fraught with difficulty. What am I really saying when I say "God is love?" Or, to borrow a question from Saint Augustine, "What do I love when I love my God?"
These are hard questions to answer and there are many different ways to answer them - which is why I am tolerant.
In Isaiah 55:8-9, it says this:
"'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,' declares the Lord. 'As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.'"
These are a couple of my favorite verses in the Old Testament because they remind me of what I said above - that the God I serve is bigger than I can imagine. So I choose to be tolerant simply because I do not know for certain that the way I think about God is the correct way.
Some people believe that God predestines every man and woman's life. I don't. But I could be wrong, so I don't condemn those who disagree with me.
Some people believe that hell is a place of eternal conscious torture and that God's grace is limited to this life. I don't. But I could be wrong, so I don't condemn those who disagree with me.
Some people are absolutely sure that God's grace does not extend to certain segments of the population (such as homosexuals). I am not so sure about that. But I could be wrong, so I don't condemn those who disagree with me.
Do you see the trend?
The idea for me is that it is within the realm of possibility that I could be wrong about God's grace and about other aspects of my theology. And because it is within the realm of possibility, I have to be careful not to assert certainty where there is uncertainty. Such is the essence of intolerance. Instead, I cling to (again, or at least try to) that simple four word phrase: I could be wrong.
Imagine what the church would look like if more of its members learned those four words.
jB
"In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, tolerance; in all things, charity."
During my brief sojourn at this particular seminary, I loved walking into the building and seeing that statement. To me, it represented the ultimate goal of the church - to be a body of a whole bunch of different theological types united on the things that really matter.
Unfortunately, as is often the case, the quote on the wall turned out to be more naive idealism than actual reality. Everywhere I look, I see people who are either intolerant on everything or dreadfully confused as to what is truly essential. People fiercely fight when someone disagrees with them on hell or on predestination or even something as stupid as whether or not drinks should be allowed in the sanctuary (I've actually experienced that fight before). I can't help but think that such people have missed the point.
I am tolerant - or at least I try to be - because I am absolutely certain of one truth: The God that I love and worship is much, much bigger than anything I can imagine.
Even when I speak of God, I have to acknowledge that the words I use are fraught with difficulty. What am I really saying when I say "God is love?" Or, to borrow a question from Saint Augustine, "What do I love when I love my God?"
These are hard questions to answer and there are many different ways to answer them - which is why I am tolerant.
In Isaiah 55:8-9, it says this:
"'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,' declares the Lord. 'As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.'"
These are a couple of my favorite verses in the Old Testament because they remind me of what I said above - that the God I serve is bigger than I can imagine. So I choose to be tolerant simply because I do not know for certain that the way I think about God is the correct way.
Some people believe that God predestines every man and woman's life. I don't. But I could be wrong, so I don't condemn those who disagree with me.
Some people believe that hell is a place of eternal conscious torture and that God's grace is limited to this life. I don't. But I could be wrong, so I don't condemn those who disagree with me.
Some people are absolutely sure that God's grace does not extend to certain segments of the population (such as homosexuals). I am not so sure about that. But I could be wrong, so I don't condemn those who disagree with me.
Do you see the trend?
The idea for me is that it is within the realm of possibility that I could be wrong about God's grace and about other aspects of my theology. And because it is within the realm of possibility, I have to be careful not to assert certainty where there is uncertainty. Such is the essence of intolerance. Instead, I cling to (again, or at least try to) that simple four word phrase: I could be wrong.
Imagine what the church would look like if more of its members learned those four words.
jB
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Throwing Down the Gauntlet
Over the course of the next however long it takes, I'm going to be writing a series of "Why I am ____." posts.
The goal is to (hopefully) be able to make concrete and public some of the theological transformations that God has made in my life. I feel as though I have been dancing around some of these things and pretending that I am not fully "there" because I have been afraid of backlash and/or afraid of offending those who were my church superiors and who had control over my future ordination (or lack thereof).
If it has to be said, that kind of fear, that kind of hiding and evading is not acceptable. Part of what I have always believed God's call on me has been to be 100% honest, to be up front about what God is doing.
So now that I have no license and no church superiors to worry about offending, I am going to throw caution to the wind and lay out the ways in which God is transforming me.
Mostly, these posts will be for me - a way of putting into clear words things that may have been fuzzy. Undoubtedly, though, these posts will also be for others...in the hopes that anyone who is wrestling with the issues addressed might find hope in their own journey.
I'm not sure where all it's going to go, but I am excited to finally stop playing semantic games.
jB
The goal is to (hopefully) be able to make concrete and public some of the theological transformations that God has made in my life. I feel as though I have been dancing around some of these things and pretending that I am not fully "there" because I have been afraid of backlash and/or afraid of offending those who were my church superiors and who had control over my future ordination (or lack thereof).
If it has to be said, that kind of fear, that kind of hiding and evading is not acceptable. Part of what I have always believed God's call on me has been to be 100% honest, to be up front about what God is doing.
So now that I have no license and no church superiors to worry about offending, I am going to throw caution to the wind and lay out the ways in which God is transforming me.
Mostly, these posts will be for me - a way of putting into clear words things that may have been fuzzy. Undoubtedly, though, these posts will also be for others...in the hopes that anyone who is wrestling with the issues addressed might find hope in their own journey.
I'm not sure where all it's going to go, but I am excited to finally stop playing semantic games.
jB
Friday, March 25, 2011
A Biblical Account of Love Winning
As the furor of Rob Bell's book dies down and the world moves on to much more important issues, I find myself reading through Chronicles. Confession time - 1 & 2 Chronicles are not my favorite books of the Bible (though a couple of my favorite passages can be found there). More than once I found myself "zoning out" for a bit while slogging through, hoping that the end would come sooner rather than later.
When I got to 2 Chronicles 12, though, my eyes were opened as I ran smack into a story of love winning.
Cut to the story.
Solomon's son Rehoboam is the King of Israel. He's not the sharpest crayon in the box and he strays from the covenant God had made with his father. The way writer of Chronicles puts it is that he led Israel and they "abandoned the law of the Lord." In other words, Rehoboam decides that neither he nor Israel need God's presence.
Some time after King Rehoboam abandoned the covenant, Israel comes under attack from Shishak from Egypt (don't you just love these Old Testament names?). Before the battle, a prophet comes and tells Rehoboam that God has a message for him: "You have abandoned me; therefore, I now abandon you to Shishak."
In other words, God says, "You're on your own." The people of Israel had decided they didn't need God, so God was prepared to let Shishak run wild over them. And make no mistake about it, Shishak was going to win this war. He had better fighters, better weapons, better everything. Without God, the people of Israel were doomed. And God is prepared to abandon the people to their fate, to give up on them.
Sound anything like the typical doctrine of hell? People abandon God, so God abandons them to a grisly fate. So far, this story simply confirms the traditional doctrine of hell.
But there is more to the story. The people are given a chance to respond. And respond they do, in verse 6:
"The leaders of Israel and the king humbled themselves and said, 'The Lord is just.'"
They repent. Faced with certain destruction, they recognize the errors of their ways. What will God do now? On the one hand, God has already decreed their abandonment to separation from God. On the other, they are showing a sincere desire to repent and renew the covenant.
This is where things get interesting. Because if love doesn't win, God will go ahead and abandon them to their fate. If God never changes in response to creation, God must ignore their humble repentance as "too little, too late." But if love wins, God can listen to their repentance and take it to heart and adapt God's actions correspondingly.
Which do you think happens?
Verse 7 tells us everything we need to know, when God says:
"Since they have humbled themselves, I will not destroy them but will soon give them deliverance."
Sounds like love won to me.
When I got to 2 Chronicles 12, though, my eyes were opened as I ran smack into a story of love winning.
Cut to the story.
Solomon's son Rehoboam is the King of Israel. He's not the sharpest crayon in the box and he strays from the covenant God had made with his father. The way writer of Chronicles puts it is that he led Israel and they "abandoned the law of the Lord." In other words, Rehoboam decides that neither he nor Israel need God's presence.
Some time after King Rehoboam abandoned the covenant, Israel comes under attack from Shishak from Egypt (don't you just love these Old Testament names?). Before the battle, a prophet comes and tells Rehoboam that God has a message for him: "You have abandoned me; therefore, I now abandon you to Shishak."
In other words, God says, "You're on your own." The people of Israel had decided they didn't need God, so God was prepared to let Shishak run wild over them. And make no mistake about it, Shishak was going to win this war. He had better fighters, better weapons, better everything. Without God, the people of Israel were doomed. And God is prepared to abandon the people to their fate, to give up on them.
Sound anything like the typical doctrine of hell? People abandon God, so God abandons them to a grisly fate. So far, this story simply confirms the traditional doctrine of hell.
But there is more to the story. The people are given a chance to respond. And respond they do, in verse 6:
"The leaders of Israel and the king humbled themselves and said, 'The Lord is just.'"
They repent. Faced with certain destruction, they recognize the errors of their ways. What will God do now? On the one hand, God has already decreed their abandonment to separation from God. On the other, they are showing a sincere desire to repent and renew the covenant.
This is where things get interesting. Because if love doesn't win, God will go ahead and abandon them to their fate. If God never changes in response to creation, God must ignore their humble repentance as "too little, too late." But if love wins, God can listen to their repentance and take it to heart and adapt God's actions correspondingly.
Which do you think happens?
Verse 7 tells us everything we need to know, when God says:
"Since they have humbled themselves, I will not destroy them but will soon give them deliverance."
Sounds like love won to me.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
The Blame Game
My readings for the last couple of days have been in the books of 1 & 2 Kings.
In 1 Kings we meet two characters whose stories intertwine for a long period of time - Ahab and Elijah.
Ahab was the king of Israel and, to put it nicely, he was not the most faithful of kings. He violated the covenant the people had made with God by worshiping idols and marrying a woman named Jezebel - whose bad reputation and behavior have succeeded her to the point that her name itself serves as a derogatory label even today.
Elijah, on the other hand, was a prophet of God. He assiduously followed God's will and spoke whatever God told him to speak.
The contrast between these two men could not be more clear. And it was probably inevitable that, at some point, their paths would cross and they would be at odds.
The opening salvo occurs in 1 Kings 17 when God decides it is time to let Ahab know that his evil deeds had not gone unnoticed. So God sends Elijah to Ahab with a message: "It's not going to rain for a long, long time." Ahab, who is king, reacts defiantly to the message. But of course, as we could guess, Elijah's word comes true.
A length of time passes and God sends Elijah back to Ahab who, incidentally, had been hunting Elijah in order to kill him. As Elijah and Ahab finally come face to face, Ahab greets Elijah like this:
"Is that you, you troubler of Israel?" (1 Kings 18:17).
Every time I read that question, I grow increasingly fascinated by it. I am convinced that, though I want to condemn Ahab, I have to admit that I am all too much like him.
Ahab doesn't want to take responsibility for his own actions and he certainly doesn't want to face up to the idea that the drought facing Israel was a result of God's attempt to call him, Ahab, back to the true covenant. In Ahab's mind, all of his problems come down to Elijah. If he can get rid of Elijah, everything will be good.
Talk about "kill the messenger."
Yet isn't that the same thing that I do? That you do? Rather than face up to the truth that many of our struggles are due to our own actions or due to God trying to get our attention, we are quick to place the blame on things outside of ourselves.
Our problems come down to the state of the economy or to "conservatives" or "liberals." The problems are the fault of immigrants or gays or war or whatever. On and on we go, proclaiming that our problems are simply not our fault.
"Is that you, you troubler of Israel?"
Denial doesn't change anything, though. Ahab doesn't get it. According to 1 Kings, Ahab never got it, never took responsibility, always blamed Elijah.
May we all learn from this and become people who first look within, seeking the sources of our struggles and problems within ourselves before assigning blame to others.
jB
In 1 Kings we meet two characters whose stories intertwine for a long period of time - Ahab and Elijah.
Ahab was the king of Israel and, to put it nicely, he was not the most faithful of kings. He violated the covenant the people had made with God by worshiping idols and marrying a woman named Jezebel - whose bad reputation and behavior have succeeded her to the point that her name itself serves as a derogatory label even today.
Elijah, on the other hand, was a prophet of God. He assiduously followed God's will and spoke whatever God told him to speak.
The contrast between these two men could not be more clear. And it was probably inevitable that, at some point, their paths would cross and they would be at odds.
The opening salvo occurs in 1 Kings 17 when God decides it is time to let Ahab know that his evil deeds had not gone unnoticed. So God sends Elijah to Ahab with a message: "It's not going to rain for a long, long time." Ahab, who is king, reacts defiantly to the message. But of course, as we could guess, Elijah's word comes true.
A length of time passes and God sends Elijah back to Ahab who, incidentally, had been hunting Elijah in order to kill him. As Elijah and Ahab finally come face to face, Ahab greets Elijah like this:
"Is that you, you troubler of Israel?" (1 Kings 18:17).
Every time I read that question, I grow increasingly fascinated by it. I am convinced that, though I want to condemn Ahab, I have to admit that I am all too much like him.
Ahab doesn't want to take responsibility for his own actions and he certainly doesn't want to face up to the idea that the drought facing Israel was a result of God's attempt to call him, Ahab, back to the true covenant. In Ahab's mind, all of his problems come down to Elijah. If he can get rid of Elijah, everything will be good.
Talk about "kill the messenger."
Yet isn't that the same thing that I do? That you do? Rather than face up to the truth that many of our struggles are due to our own actions or due to God trying to get our attention, we are quick to place the blame on things outside of ourselves.
Our problems come down to the state of the economy or to "conservatives" or "liberals." The problems are the fault of immigrants or gays or war or whatever. On and on we go, proclaiming that our problems are simply not our fault.
"Is that you, you troubler of Israel?"
Denial doesn't change anything, though. Ahab doesn't get it. According to 1 Kings, Ahab never got it, never took responsibility, always blamed Elijah.
May we all learn from this and become people who first look within, seeking the sources of our struggles and problems within ourselves before assigning blame to others.
jB
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Man Without a Tribe
My entire life, I have been a part of the Church of the Nazarene or the Wesleyan Church - both of which fall in the family of what are called "holiness churches," which is a way of saying that they teach, preach and live that it is possible to live in consistent victory over sin in this life and that we do not have to wait until we die to experience victory.
That has been my church for almost 30 years now. I honestly cannot remember a time when I was not a part of one of those churches.
My wife and I met in one of those churches...in the nursery of a Nazarene church in Lafayette, Indiana...as infants.
I endured my teenage struggles at another Nazarene church in Greencastle, Indiana.
I received my call to ministry when back at the Nazarene church in Lafayette. I also received my first minister's license from that church - a "Local Minister's License" - more than ten years ago, now. Since that first license, I have held a minister's license without interruption.
I have served God in a Nazarene church in Crown Point, Indiana; at a Nazarene church in Olathe, KS; and at a Wesleyan church in Oklahoma City, OK.
I guess you could say that the holiness people have always been my "tribe."
I bring up all of that history because today I found out that, for the first time since I received that first local minister's license more than ten years ago, I will not be receiving a license. I will no longer be a licensed minister. My "tribe leaders" have conferred and decided that it would be a good idea for me to take a year off from licensed ministry.
I confess that I am intensely ambivalent about that decision.
On the one hand, I agree with it. I need time to seek God and to figure out where my future lies. I have some theological questions that appear to have no place in the conversations of the holiness tribes.
Moreover, I have held a license of some sort since mere months after I received my call. I have never had the opportunity to spend time figuring out if God's path is different...I have always assumed that licensed ministry, followed by ordained ministry, was the only path to take for a minister.
So I can see why not having a license could be helpful.
On the other hand, though, it still hurts to be told - however gently and however indirectly - that right now there is no place for me in the tribe that I have always called home. It hurts to hear yet again that I "clearly have a heart for God," but that having such a heart simply isn't enough. It hurts to have yet another person remind me that "I am really smart and good at the academics of theology" as a way of avoiding saying that I do not have what it takes to be a pastor.
Mostly, though, not having a license is kind of scary. It's scary because it means that, for awhile at least, I have no tribe. I have been sent, as it were, out into the wilderness alone to wander and seek God. This is not to say that I will never have a tribe again - I may join another tribe or even return to my old tribe. Yet it is still scary - terrifying, even - to look into an immediate future as a man without a tribe.
Yet for all the fear, it is also somewhat exhilarating. Because now it's me and God. Don't get me wrong, I still have a great church community...but parts of this journey will have to be made alone...me and God. No one else. No one to tell me that where God is speaking is wrong. No one to interfere with God's work. Just me and God.
I am reminded of the last verse of a classic old hymn of the church, I Have Decided To Follow Jesus, which says:
"Though none go with me, still I will follow;
Though none go with me, still I will follow;
Though none go with me, still I will follow;
No turning back, no turning back."
Right now, such is my song. I am a man without a tribe, heading off into the wilderness. And maybe I will discover while I am there that God is all the tribe I need.
jB
That has been my church for almost 30 years now. I honestly cannot remember a time when I was not a part of one of those churches.
My wife and I met in one of those churches...in the nursery of a Nazarene church in Lafayette, Indiana...as infants.
I endured my teenage struggles at another Nazarene church in Greencastle, Indiana.
I received my call to ministry when back at the Nazarene church in Lafayette. I also received my first minister's license from that church - a "Local Minister's License" - more than ten years ago, now. Since that first license, I have held a minister's license without interruption.
I have served God in a Nazarene church in Crown Point, Indiana; at a Nazarene church in Olathe, KS; and at a Wesleyan church in Oklahoma City, OK.
I guess you could say that the holiness people have always been my "tribe."
I bring up all of that history because today I found out that, for the first time since I received that first local minister's license more than ten years ago, I will not be receiving a license. I will no longer be a licensed minister. My "tribe leaders" have conferred and decided that it would be a good idea for me to take a year off from licensed ministry.
I confess that I am intensely ambivalent about that decision.
On the one hand, I agree with it. I need time to seek God and to figure out where my future lies. I have some theological questions that appear to have no place in the conversations of the holiness tribes.
Moreover, I have held a license of some sort since mere months after I received my call. I have never had the opportunity to spend time figuring out if God's path is different...I have always assumed that licensed ministry, followed by ordained ministry, was the only path to take for a minister.
So I can see why not having a license could be helpful.
On the other hand, though, it still hurts to be told - however gently and however indirectly - that right now there is no place for me in the tribe that I have always called home. It hurts to hear yet again that I "clearly have a heart for God," but that having such a heart simply isn't enough. It hurts to have yet another person remind me that "I am really smart and good at the academics of theology" as a way of avoiding saying that I do not have what it takes to be a pastor.
Mostly, though, not having a license is kind of scary. It's scary because it means that, for awhile at least, I have no tribe. I have been sent, as it were, out into the wilderness alone to wander and seek God. This is not to say that I will never have a tribe again - I may join another tribe or even return to my old tribe. Yet it is still scary - terrifying, even - to look into an immediate future as a man without a tribe.
Yet for all the fear, it is also somewhat exhilarating. Because now it's me and God. Don't get me wrong, I still have a great church community...but parts of this journey will have to be made alone...me and God. No one else. No one to tell me that where God is speaking is wrong. No one to interfere with God's work. Just me and God.
I am reminded of the last verse of a classic old hymn of the church, I Have Decided To Follow Jesus, which says:
"Though none go with me, still I will follow;
Though none go with me, still I will follow;
Though none go with me, still I will follow;
No turning back, no turning back."
Right now, such is my song. I am a man without a tribe, heading off into the wilderness. And maybe I will discover while I am there that God is all the tribe I need.
jB
Monday, March 21, 2011
First Workout and Other Thoughts
I finally got around to beginning the physical aspect of this Lent experience last night. I had been putting it off because, well, I'm lazy. Last night, though, I realized that I had to do it. After all, I had committed to doing it and, if I'm not going to go full bore on this stuff, why bother. So I fired up the Wii and did a round on EA Active.
All of that said, it felt pretty good to get up and going. It felt even better that I decided to work out during the second half of Purdue's debacle against VCU last night. I thoroughly enjoyed the process and look forward to continuing it now that I've broken the ice.
In other thoughts, I read through 1 Samuel on Saturday night, which tells the story of how God's people ended up with a king. What strikes me about the whole story is that it seems that God permits Israel to have a king even though it might not be the best thing for them. God hears them grumble and complain and ask for a king and tells the priest Samuel, who had been leading the people:
Now listen to them; but warn them solemnly and let them know what the king who will reign over them will claim as his rights. (1 Samuel 8:9)
As I read this, I couldn't help but think of all the times that I have demanded something in my own life, absolutely convinced that what I wanted was the right thing for me - just as the Israelites were convinced that a king would be perfect for them.
And just as God warned the Israelites, God warns me - saying, "Be careful, Joe, this thing you want will cost a lot. It will make claims on your time, your space, your life." Yet God still lets me do it.
Because God is a God who gives us the room to choose. We are free to make our own decisions, even if God knows those decisions will not turn out the best for us. We are free to choose God's path or another path. Of course, our lives would be better if we chose God's path...but we are free to do otherwise.
All of that said, it felt pretty good to get up and going. It felt even better that I decided to work out during the second half of Purdue's debacle against VCU last night. I thoroughly enjoyed the process and look forward to continuing it now that I've broken the ice.
In other thoughts, I read through 1 Samuel on Saturday night, which tells the story of how God's people ended up with a king. What strikes me about the whole story is that it seems that God permits Israel to have a king even though it might not be the best thing for them. God hears them grumble and complain and ask for a king and tells the priest Samuel, who had been leading the people:
Now listen to them; but warn them solemnly and let them know what the king who will reign over them will claim as his rights. (1 Samuel 8:9)
As I read this, I couldn't help but think of all the times that I have demanded something in my own life, absolutely convinced that what I wanted was the right thing for me - just as the Israelites were convinced that a king would be perfect for them.
And just as God warned the Israelites, God warns me - saying, "Be careful, Joe, this thing you want will cost a lot. It will make claims on your time, your space, your life." Yet God still lets me do it.
Because God is a God who gives us the room to choose. We are free to make our own decisions, even if God knows those decisions will not turn out the best for us. We are free to choose God's path or another path. Of course, our lives would be better if we chose God's path...but we are free to do otherwise.
Friday, March 18, 2011
In Support of Rob Bell
By now, pastor Rob Bell has probably been on every major news program out there and I wouldn't be surprised if Letterman or Colbert is calling to schedule an appearance.
All of the hoopla comes down to Bell's latest book - Love Wins, in which Bell tackles the thorny issue of Heaven and Hell. Ever since the publisher leaked a preview that indicated that Bell takes a more progressive stance than fundamentalist Christians have, those fundamentalist Christians have done what they do best - attack Rob Bell and excoriate him as a heretic. Even the news programs have gotten into the act, with Martin Bashir performing a sham of an interview that MSNBC should be ashamed of, asking slanted questions and interrupting Bell at nearly every turn.
While I have yet to read the book (I will), I have taken the time to watch the hour long interview/release event Bell did with Newsweek religion editor Lisa Miller in which Bell speaks about the major themes of the book. I summarize the core of Bell's message from those sources as follows (I will post about the book when I read it):
1. God is love.
2. God wants to have a relationship with every human being who has ever lived.
3. Every human being is truly free to choose whether or not to have a relationship with God.
4. Hell is the natural consequence of choosing to not have a relationship with God.
Up until this point, I fail to see how any Christian could disagree. Those four points are the core of what Jesus came to preach and teach and the heart of the life Jesus lived.
Of course, Bell doesn't stop there, he goes on to argue that, if God is truly love, then that love is eternal and could extend beyond the grave to never stop offering people the opportunity to enter into a relationship with God. Bell - and this is important - freely admits that he has entered the realm of speculation here, but at the same time reminds us that all talk of what happens after we die is speculative in nature.
It is on this point that people seem to think Bell has slid into heresy, or at least unorthodoxy. However, I confess that I am not so sure. As I am reading through the Old Testament, a trend keeps popping up. A few posts ago, I wrote about how God created a plan so that those who were unclean and those who were not even Israelites could participate in the celebration of Passover.
The prophets speak of a God who consistently "gives up" on Israel and allows the Israelites to be dragged off into captivity and punished and tortured...but also of a God who always takes them back, always provides for their return.
The message of Jesus' life is that those who were considered beyond the grace of God - Zacchaeus, Matthew, the woman caught in adultery - were now within God's kingdom.
Finally, there is Revelation 21, which describes Heaven as the City of God in beautiful language that is often quoted at funerals, and which says of that City, "On no day will its gates ever be shut..." (v. 25).
All of this seems to me to allow at least the possibility of God extending grace beyond the grave. Even the Christian creeds and tradition speak of Christ descending into hell and preaching to the souls there - what is the purpose of preaching to the damned if they are hopelessly damned?
I am not saying that Rob Bell is definitely right, though I think he's on the right track. What I am saying is that to say that Bell has no support for his thought is simply not true.
Further, I openly admit that I admire Bell for doing the hard work of real theological exploration. Too many pastors have no idea what they believe or why they believe it - they merely spit the party line of whatever denominational group to which they belong. As a result, many Christians have given up thinking about their faith in any transformative way and only look at Scripture for confirmation of what they already believe. Instead of reading Christian theology and the ancient writers of the church, these Christians settle for the cult of Christian Inspiration, gobbling up the next feel good bestseller that tells them whatever they want to hear. Instead of letting God transform them into God's image, they devote their energies to transforming God into their own image.
Rob Bell may be right and he may be wrong - we won't know until we see God, and then I doubt any one of us will truly care. But at least Rob Bell is willing to challenge himself to consider the implications of the great God he claims to serve.
For that, I applaud him.
jB
All of the hoopla comes down to Bell's latest book - Love Wins, in which Bell tackles the thorny issue of Heaven and Hell. Ever since the publisher leaked a preview that indicated that Bell takes a more progressive stance than fundamentalist Christians have, those fundamentalist Christians have done what they do best - attack Rob Bell and excoriate him as a heretic. Even the news programs have gotten into the act, with Martin Bashir performing a sham of an interview that MSNBC should be ashamed of, asking slanted questions and interrupting Bell at nearly every turn.
While I have yet to read the book (I will), I have taken the time to watch the hour long interview/release event Bell did with Newsweek religion editor Lisa Miller in which Bell speaks about the major themes of the book. I summarize the core of Bell's message from those sources as follows (I will post about the book when I read it):
1. God is love.
2. God wants to have a relationship with every human being who has ever lived.
3. Every human being is truly free to choose whether or not to have a relationship with God.
4. Hell is the natural consequence of choosing to not have a relationship with God.
Up until this point, I fail to see how any Christian could disagree. Those four points are the core of what Jesus came to preach and teach and the heart of the life Jesus lived.
Of course, Bell doesn't stop there, he goes on to argue that, if God is truly love, then that love is eternal and could extend beyond the grave to never stop offering people the opportunity to enter into a relationship with God. Bell - and this is important - freely admits that he has entered the realm of speculation here, but at the same time reminds us that all talk of what happens after we die is speculative in nature.
It is on this point that people seem to think Bell has slid into heresy, or at least unorthodoxy. However, I confess that I am not so sure. As I am reading through the Old Testament, a trend keeps popping up. A few posts ago, I wrote about how God created a plan so that those who were unclean and those who were not even Israelites could participate in the celebration of Passover.
The prophets speak of a God who consistently "gives up" on Israel and allows the Israelites to be dragged off into captivity and punished and tortured...but also of a God who always takes them back, always provides for their return.
The message of Jesus' life is that those who were considered beyond the grace of God - Zacchaeus, Matthew, the woman caught in adultery - were now within God's kingdom.
Finally, there is Revelation 21, which describes Heaven as the City of God in beautiful language that is often quoted at funerals, and which says of that City, "On no day will its gates ever be shut..." (v. 25).
All of this seems to me to allow at least the possibility of God extending grace beyond the grave. Even the Christian creeds and tradition speak of Christ descending into hell and preaching to the souls there - what is the purpose of preaching to the damned if they are hopelessly damned?
I am not saying that Rob Bell is definitely right, though I think he's on the right track. What I am saying is that to say that Bell has no support for his thought is simply not true.
Further, I openly admit that I admire Bell for doing the hard work of real theological exploration. Too many pastors have no idea what they believe or why they believe it - they merely spit the party line of whatever denominational group to which they belong. As a result, many Christians have given up thinking about their faith in any transformative way and only look at Scripture for confirmation of what they already believe. Instead of reading Christian theology and the ancient writers of the church, these Christians settle for the cult of Christian Inspiration, gobbling up the next feel good bestseller that tells them whatever they want to hear. Instead of letting God transform them into God's image, they devote their energies to transforming God into their own image.
Rob Bell may be right and he may be wrong - we won't know until we see God, and then I doubt any one of us will truly care. But at least Rob Bell is willing to challenge himself to consider the implications of the great God he claims to serve.
For that, I applaud him.
jB
The Footsteps of the Fearless
One of my favorite stories in the entire Bible is found in the first part of the book of Joshua.
The scene is this: Moses has died and Joshua has taken over the role of leader of the people of Israel. They are getting ready to enter into the Promised Land, that land which God was giving to them. There was only one major obstacle: the Jordan River, which is at the flood stage.
Cue the story.
Joshua hears from God, who tells Joshua to have the priests start marching toward the river with the rest of the people following. The priests are not to stop when they hit the first water in the floodplain...they are to keep marching...straight into the water. So that's what they do. And God does what God did 40 years earlier with the Red Sea - he parts the water and the people cross on dry land.
Here's what makes this story so awesome - nothing happens until the priests feet hit the water. God doesn't part the water when the people are still a mile away, or a half a mile away, a hundred yards away, or even 10 feet away. The whole time they approached the rushing waters, nothing changed. It wasn't until their toes got wet that God did anything.
Talk about requiring both courage and faith of God's people. I can only imagine the amount of courage that it took to take the first step into the waters, the first step into the unknown. I suspect there was a moment of hesitation - the lead priests stopping for just a second to glance at each other as if to say, "Are you sure about this?" But then they did it.
This story - found in Joshua 3 - inspires me. I often look at the future like the Israelites must have looked at the rushing, swollen waters of the Jordan river that day - dangerous, uncertain, powerful. As a result, I have often been afraid of the future, afraid to step out and put my feet in the water and trust that God will take care of it.
My hope and prayer is that God will form me into one who walks fearlessly into the water, even if there is no evidence that anything will change...
jB
The scene is this: Moses has died and Joshua has taken over the role of leader of the people of Israel. They are getting ready to enter into the Promised Land, that land which God was giving to them. There was only one major obstacle: the Jordan River, which is at the flood stage.
Cue the story.
Joshua hears from God, who tells Joshua to have the priests start marching toward the river with the rest of the people following. The priests are not to stop when they hit the first water in the floodplain...they are to keep marching...straight into the water. So that's what they do. And God does what God did 40 years earlier with the Red Sea - he parts the water and the people cross on dry land.
Here's what makes this story so awesome - nothing happens until the priests feet hit the water. God doesn't part the water when the people are still a mile away, or a half a mile away, a hundred yards away, or even 10 feet away. The whole time they approached the rushing waters, nothing changed. It wasn't until their toes got wet that God did anything.
Talk about requiring both courage and faith of God's people. I can only imagine the amount of courage that it took to take the first step into the waters, the first step into the unknown. I suspect there was a moment of hesitation - the lead priests stopping for just a second to glance at each other as if to say, "Are you sure about this?" But then they did it.
This story - found in Joshua 3 - inspires me. I often look at the future like the Israelites must have looked at the rushing, swollen waters of the Jordan river that day - dangerous, uncertain, powerful. As a result, I have often been afraid of the future, afraid to step out and put my feet in the water and trust that God will take care of it.
My hope and prayer is that God will form me into one who walks fearlessly into the water, even if there is no evidence that anything will change...
jB
Thursday, March 17, 2011
More than a Drinking Holiday
Today is, as I'm sure any astute reader knows, St. Patrick's day. On this day, more beer will be consumed around the world than any other day of the year. And on this day everyone around you will wear green or risk getting pinched. Because that is what we have come to believe St. Patrick's Day is all about.
But St. Patrick's Day is far more than that - it is the day on which we celebrate - guess who? - St. Patrick. I love the story of Saint Patrick - it is an example of what I see as the ultimate goal of Christian life.
Early in his life, St. Patrick was kidnapped and taken to Ireland as a slave. Eventually he was freed to return home, but when he returned home, he heard the voices of the people of Ireland calling out for someone to share the Good News with them. So Patrick returned. It didn't matter to him that the people of Ireland had kidnapped him, he went anyway. It didn't matter to him that he could well be killed, he went anyway.
And as a result, Ireland became a leading center of the Christian faith and, according to some accounts, it was Irish monasteries that helped preserve some of the great literature of the church throughout what is known as the Dark Ages.
All because Patrick was not afraid and because Patrick was willing to give up his hatred for those who had wronged him.
I think about that story and I wonder if I would be able to do the same thing if I were placed in Patrick's shoes. Or, in a context fit for today, would I be able to pick up and go live among those Muslims around the world who are militant, or among other terrorist groups who have perpetrated great crimes against humanity? Would I? I'd like to think so, but I can't say for sure.
Which is why I look up to Saint Patrick.
I will close with a quote from Saint Patrick's Breastplate - a famous prayer supposedly written by the Saint prior to his return to Ireland.
I bind to myself today God's Power to guide me, God's Might to uphold me, God's Wisdom to teach me, God's Eye to watch over me, God's Ear to hear me, God's Word to give me speech, God's Hand to guide me, God's Way to lie before me, God's Shield to shelter me, God's Host to secure me against the snares of demons, against the seductions of vices.
Amen.
But St. Patrick's Day is far more than that - it is the day on which we celebrate - guess who? - St. Patrick. I love the story of Saint Patrick - it is an example of what I see as the ultimate goal of Christian life.
Early in his life, St. Patrick was kidnapped and taken to Ireland as a slave. Eventually he was freed to return home, but when he returned home, he heard the voices of the people of Ireland calling out for someone to share the Good News with them. So Patrick returned. It didn't matter to him that the people of Ireland had kidnapped him, he went anyway. It didn't matter to him that he could well be killed, he went anyway.
And as a result, Ireland became a leading center of the Christian faith and, according to some accounts, it was Irish monasteries that helped preserve some of the great literature of the church throughout what is known as the Dark Ages.
All because Patrick was not afraid and because Patrick was willing to give up his hatred for those who had wronged him.
I think about that story and I wonder if I would be able to do the same thing if I were placed in Patrick's shoes. Or, in a context fit for today, would I be able to pick up and go live among those Muslims around the world who are militant, or among other terrorist groups who have perpetrated great crimes against humanity? Would I? I'd like to think so, but I can't say for sure.
Which is why I look up to Saint Patrick.
I will close with a quote from Saint Patrick's Breastplate - a famous prayer supposedly written by the Saint prior to his return to Ireland.
I bind to myself today God's Power to guide me, God's Might to uphold me, God's Wisdom to teach me, God's Eye to watch over me, God's Ear to hear me, God's Word to give me speech, God's Hand to guide me, God's Way to lie before me, God's Shield to shelter me, God's Host to secure me against the snares of demons, against the seductions of vices.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Never too dirty...
Among the things you get from a reading of the books of Leviticus and Numbers is that the Old Testament writers were almost obsessively concerned with the issue of cleanliness. Many of the laws dealt with what made a person "unclean" and the process by which one could become clean again.
And this wasn't just about hygiene. In the culture of the time, the categories of clean and unclean determined one's status in society. If you were unclean, you could not participate in the life of the community. You were quarantined, isolated, alone until you were able to regain your "clean" status. Someone who was unclean could not even approach the temple and participate in the worship life of Israel by offering sacrifices.
The reasons for these categories have long been the topic of speculation by scholars and pastors. Some say it had to do with community health...and perhaps they are right. Others say it had to do with God's holiness and the fact that one who was unclean was not worthy of being in God's presence. Whatever the reason, though, it was set in stone that the unclean were excluded.
Except.
Except for Passover. In Numbers 9, the people are in the midst of receiving all the cleanliness laws and they have a question: What about the Passover? God commanded that all Israelites participate in that? If someone is unclean when it comes time to celebrate the Passover, what should that person do and what should the community do?
These were important questions, because the Passover was a celebration of what God had done by bringing the people out of Egypt. It was the identifying celebration of the Israelites. And now God had given another law that seemed to exclude some from participation in the celebration of that liberation.
God, through, Moses, answers the question in Numbers 9, verse 10:
"Tell the Israelites: 'When any of you or your descendants are unclean because of a dead body or are away on a journey, they are still to celebrate the Lord's Passover...'"
This is Good News for the unclean! They are not completely forgotten. They are not completely excluded. When it comes to their core identity as members of God's community, not even unclean-ness according to the law could separate them from God. God provides a way for even the most defiled Israelite to participate. And later in the same chapter, God even offers the opportunity to celebrate Passover to immigrants in Israel.
This is yet more evidence that we worship a God who includes and not a God who excludes. God is not looking for reasons to keep you or me or anyone else out of God's Kingdom, to exclude us from participation in the life of the community. The truth is far more exciting - God is looking for reasons to include us in the life of the community.
So the question I would close with is this: If the God we meet in the Bible repeatedly looks for reasons to include instead of exclude, why do we in the church do the exact opposite?
jB
And this wasn't just about hygiene. In the culture of the time, the categories of clean and unclean determined one's status in society. If you were unclean, you could not participate in the life of the community. You were quarantined, isolated, alone until you were able to regain your "clean" status. Someone who was unclean could not even approach the temple and participate in the worship life of Israel by offering sacrifices.
The reasons for these categories have long been the topic of speculation by scholars and pastors. Some say it had to do with community health...and perhaps they are right. Others say it had to do with God's holiness and the fact that one who was unclean was not worthy of being in God's presence. Whatever the reason, though, it was set in stone that the unclean were excluded.
Except.
Except for Passover. In Numbers 9, the people are in the midst of receiving all the cleanliness laws and they have a question: What about the Passover? God commanded that all Israelites participate in that? If someone is unclean when it comes time to celebrate the Passover, what should that person do and what should the community do?
These were important questions, because the Passover was a celebration of what God had done by bringing the people out of Egypt. It was the identifying celebration of the Israelites. And now God had given another law that seemed to exclude some from participation in the celebration of that liberation.
God, through, Moses, answers the question in Numbers 9, verse 10:
"Tell the Israelites: 'When any of you or your descendants are unclean because of a dead body or are away on a journey, they are still to celebrate the Lord's Passover...'"
This is Good News for the unclean! They are not completely forgotten. They are not completely excluded. When it comes to their core identity as members of God's community, not even unclean-ness according to the law could separate them from God. God provides a way for even the most defiled Israelite to participate. And later in the same chapter, God even offers the opportunity to celebrate Passover to immigrants in Israel.
This is yet more evidence that we worship a God who includes and not a God who excludes. God is not looking for reasons to keep you or me or anyone else out of God's Kingdom, to exclude us from participation in the life of the community. The truth is far more exciting - God is looking for reasons to include us in the life of the community.
So the question I would close with is this: If the God we meet in the Bible repeatedly looks for reasons to include instead of exclude, why do we in the church do the exact opposite?
jB
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Heightened Responsibility
Since nothing from yesterday's reading of Leviticus seemed to jump off the page at me, I am going back to Exodus for today's blog. Specifically, I am going back to Exodus 23, verses 4-5, which read as follows:
If you come across your enemy's ox or donkey wandering off, be sure to return it. If you see the donkey of someone who hates you fallen down under its load, do not leave it there; be sure you help them with it.
These verses have stuck with me for the past few days, largely because they seem to prescribe a level of responsibility for doing good that goes far beyond what we normally think.
Typically, it seems as though we feel no obligation to help someone we don't know, much less people whom we would describe as enemies. Think about it for a minute - when was the last time you saw someone pulled over alongside the road with a flat tire? How many people had stopped to help? Did you stop to help? We often assume that they "have it under control" or we plead that we do not have the time/skills to help.
Yet if we seek to learn from Exodus 23:4-5, it is not a matter of choice. We are not allowed to pass by evil or oppression or a hurting neighbor and plead ignorance. We are not permitted to say, "That doesn't concern me." If it is happening to someone around us, it concerns us - whether it is our enemy or our friend.
When you think about it, this is the law of love. To borrow the title from Rob Bell's latest book, the good news is that "Love wins." And once we realize that love wins, we should become motivated to live out that truth in our day to day lives - NOT out of a sense of obligation but out of a desire to show others - even our worst enemies - that, in the end, love does win.
jB
If you come across your enemy's ox or donkey wandering off, be sure to return it. If you see the donkey of someone who hates you fallen down under its load, do not leave it there; be sure you help them with it.
These verses have stuck with me for the past few days, largely because they seem to prescribe a level of responsibility for doing good that goes far beyond what we normally think.
Typically, it seems as though we feel no obligation to help someone we don't know, much less people whom we would describe as enemies. Think about it for a minute - when was the last time you saw someone pulled over alongside the road with a flat tire? How many people had stopped to help? Did you stop to help? We often assume that they "have it under control" or we plead that we do not have the time/skills to help.
Yet if we seek to learn from Exodus 23:4-5, it is not a matter of choice. We are not allowed to pass by evil or oppression or a hurting neighbor and plead ignorance. We are not permitted to say, "That doesn't concern me." If it is happening to someone around us, it concerns us - whether it is our enemy or our friend.
When you think about it, this is the law of love. To borrow the title from Rob Bell's latest book, the good news is that "Love wins." And once we realize that love wins, we should become motivated to live out that truth in our day to day lives - NOT out of a sense of obligation but out of a desire to show others - even our worst enemies - that, in the end, love does win.
jB
Monday, March 14, 2011
Keeping it Between the Lines
Confession time:
Confession #1: My wife and I went to Dairy Queen last night and I had an ice cream cone.
Confession #2: I don't feel the least bit bad about it, even if it violated the "no desserts" portion of my fast.
Here's why. For one, throughout history, Sundays have not been included in the Lenten fasts. Instead, they have been seen as "feast days" in which one is permitted to joyfully indulge (in moderation) in those things which one has elected to sacrifice. So I wasn't really cheating. ;-)
More importantly, though, I wrestled with it for a while yesterday afternoon. I wanted to beat myself up for even thinking about having a dessert...which, paradoxically, is exactly why I decided to have that ice cream cone. You see, the thing about Lenten fasts is that it is very easy to slip into legalism and thus lose sight of why we are fasting at all.
In the past, I have neglected the feast day out of a misplaced sense of pious holiness - thinking myself more holy than others who would break their fasts for celebration on Sunday. I am coming to believe that my misplaced piety was to my detriment and that my legalism prevented me from truly experiencing the power of the season of Lent.
In a way, then, last night's ice cream cone, which may or may not become a Sunday ritual for our family during Lent, is my protection against legalism. It is a deliberate choice to say no to legalism and yes to the joy inherent in the experience of Sabbath. My prayer is that my experience of Lent will be deeper because of it.
jB
Confession #1: My wife and I went to Dairy Queen last night and I had an ice cream cone.
Confession #2: I don't feel the least bit bad about it, even if it violated the "no desserts" portion of my fast.
Here's why. For one, throughout history, Sundays have not been included in the Lenten fasts. Instead, they have been seen as "feast days" in which one is permitted to joyfully indulge (in moderation) in those things which one has elected to sacrifice. So I wasn't really cheating. ;-)
More importantly, though, I wrestled with it for a while yesterday afternoon. I wanted to beat myself up for even thinking about having a dessert...which, paradoxically, is exactly why I decided to have that ice cream cone. You see, the thing about Lenten fasts is that it is very easy to slip into legalism and thus lose sight of why we are fasting at all.
In the past, I have neglected the feast day out of a misplaced sense of pious holiness - thinking myself more holy than others who would break their fasts for celebration on Sunday. I am coming to believe that my misplaced piety was to my detriment and that my legalism prevented me from truly experiencing the power of the season of Lent.
In a way, then, last night's ice cream cone, which may or may not become a Sunday ritual for our family during Lent, is my protection against legalism. It is a deliberate choice to say no to legalism and yes to the joy inherent in the experience of Sabbath. My prayer is that my experience of Lent will be deeper because of it.
jB
Sunday, March 13, 2011
A Day Full of Surprises
As I mentioned earlier this week, one of the Lenten exercises in which I will be participating is a fast for the 24 hours prior to each Sunday's worship service, a fast that will be broken each week by sharing in the receiving of Communion with the church. This was the first week of that exercise, and there were a few things that surprised me about the whole exercise.
First, I was surprised at how "easy" it was for me to go without food for the 24 hours. I was expecting pangs of hunger and other discomfort but felt nothing of the sort. In fact, as I joked to my wife this morning, it felt as though my body was saying, "Thank you for the break!" Joking aside, it makes me wonder how long it would take me to feel the real pangs of hunger that are felt by all too many around our world - and it makes me grateful for the provision God has made for me and my family.
I was also surprised at how seriously this fast affected my worship. Don't get me wrong, I was hopeful that it would be a tremendous experience, but somewhat skeptical about how going without food would make me anything other than distracted throughout church as I wondered and fantasized about lunch. I could not have been more wrong. I was focused in a way that I cannot remember experiencing for a long, long time. I sang every word of every song and listened to every word of the sermon as if they alone were food.
The most poignant part of the service came as we sang, "This is my daily bread, this is my daily bread, your very word spoken to me." I have sung that song probably hundreds of times in my life but never like this. For the first time, I got it.
Finally, I was shocked at how much I craved communion. The whole service built towards sharing communion and the whole time I was eagerly thinking, "Is it time? Is it time?" I try very hard in my own spiritual life to ensure that communion never becomes mere ritual, just something to do...but sometimes it seems that way. How awesome it was to experience communion with the kind of longing that I envision the early followers of Jesus experienced.
All in all, it was a great day of worship that culminated in a wonderful breaking of the fast with my sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew. God is good.
jB
First, I was surprised at how "easy" it was for me to go without food for the 24 hours. I was expecting pangs of hunger and other discomfort but felt nothing of the sort. In fact, as I joked to my wife this morning, it felt as though my body was saying, "Thank you for the break!" Joking aside, it makes me wonder how long it would take me to feel the real pangs of hunger that are felt by all too many around our world - and it makes me grateful for the provision God has made for me and my family.
I was also surprised at how seriously this fast affected my worship. Don't get me wrong, I was hopeful that it would be a tremendous experience, but somewhat skeptical about how going without food would make me anything other than distracted throughout church as I wondered and fantasized about lunch. I could not have been more wrong. I was focused in a way that I cannot remember experiencing for a long, long time. I sang every word of every song and listened to every word of the sermon as if they alone were food.
The most poignant part of the service came as we sang, "This is my daily bread, this is my daily bread, your very word spoken to me." I have sung that song probably hundreds of times in my life but never like this. For the first time, I got it.
Finally, I was shocked at how much I craved communion. The whole service built towards sharing communion and the whole time I was eagerly thinking, "Is it time? Is it time?" I try very hard in my own spiritual life to ensure that communion never becomes mere ritual, just something to do...but sometimes it seems that way. How awesome it was to experience communion with the kind of longing that I envision the early followers of Jesus experienced.
All in all, it was a great day of worship that culminated in a wonderful breaking of the fast with my sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew. God is good.
jB
Saturday, March 12, 2011
For the Ladies
One of the readings for one of my upcoming graduate courses is an article by Phyllis Tribble that discusses the concept of "feminist hermeneutics" (fancy phrase that means "the ways women interpret the Bible). I read that article yesterday afternoon before taking on the first 28 chapters of Exodus as my reading. I am glad that I did.
As a result of that article, I was more attuned to notice the role that women played in the story of the Exodus. Often I think we point to Moses as the key character in the Old Testament story and then ignore the circumstances of Moses' birth.
It is certainly correct to say that Moses plays a crucial role in the Old Testament, perhaps even the crucial role. But apart from the actions of his mother, who refused to obey an order by Pharaoh to kill her son, there would have been no Moses. Apart from the actions of his sister Miriam, who stood on the side of the river and watched hopefully over the basket in which the infant Moses floated, there would be no Moses. And apart from the actions of Pharaoh's daughter, who adopted a Hebrew child as her own, there would be no Moses.
Think about that for a minute. Apart from the actions of three women, the whole story of the Old Testament would be different. Put a different way, when it came to the crucial moments of human involvement in the story, God chose to use women. And to drive the point home, the same can be said of the New Testament and its main character - the crucial moment of human involvement was given to a woman.
This is a far cry from the usual way that women are viewed in the Old and (to some extent) New Testaments. It is woman who is blamed for sin and who is treated poorly and given no status.
Yet God is no respecter of our assumptions about gender. God defies our expectations and roles...and that is awesome.
jB
As a result of that article, I was more attuned to notice the role that women played in the story of the Exodus. Often I think we point to Moses as the key character in the Old Testament story and then ignore the circumstances of Moses' birth.
It is certainly correct to say that Moses plays a crucial role in the Old Testament, perhaps even the crucial role. But apart from the actions of his mother, who refused to obey an order by Pharaoh to kill her son, there would have been no Moses. Apart from the actions of his sister Miriam, who stood on the side of the river and watched hopefully over the basket in which the infant Moses floated, there would be no Moses. And apart from the actions of Pharaoh's daughter, who adopted a Hebrew child as her own, there would be no Moses.
Think about that for a minute. Apart from the actions of three women, the whole story of the Old Testament would be different. Put a different way, when it came to the crucial moments of human involvement in the story, God chose to use women. And to drive the point home, the same can be said of the New Testament and its main character - the crucial moment of human involvement was given to a woman.
This is a far cry from the usual way that women are viewed in the Old and (to some extent) New Testaments. It is woman who is blamed for sin and who is treated poorly and given no status.
Yet God is no respecter of our assumptions about gender. God defies our expectations and roles...and that is awesome.
jB
Friday, March 11, 2011
Feeling Bad for Reuben
First things first, I have to confess something - I haven't started the exercise part of this Lenten exercise yet. The reason (really more like an excuse) that I am using is that I have been waiting for the caffeine withdrawal to wear off so that I will feel 100%. Really, I think I'm just lazy. But I'll get it there...I can't stay lazy until Easter, can I?
Now, for the forgotten good guy in the story of Joseph. Joseph's story is told in the second half of the book of Genesis. Here's a synopsis: Joseph is the favorite son and his brothers are jealous, so his brothers sell him into slavery; Joseph ends up in Egypt where he goes from high level servant to jail to very high level servant; famine hits the land and his brothers are forced to come to Egypt for food and approach Joseph; a happy reunion ensues.
As I read through the story this time, I noticed something that I have never noticed before - not all of the brothers were "in on it," so to speak. Initially, the brothers were just going to kill Joseph, but one of the brothers - Reuben - intervened and suggested that they throw Joseph in a well. The story indicates that Reuben intended to come back later and rescue Joseph. But before Reuben can get back to save his little brother, the other brothers get the bright idea to make a profit by selling Joseph to a band of nomadic traders. Reuben shows up and is deeply saddened by the turn of events...but then ends up going along with the story given to Joseph's father, Jacob, about Joseph being killed.
What struck me about this is that it goes to show that sometimes the best intentions are thwarted by a desire to "save face." Reuben was the oldest brother and had he been forceful from the beginning, he could have saved Joseph. Instead, he tried to do it in a way that would allow him to still look good with his brothers...and Joseph paid the price. How often does that happen to us? We want to do something good or to intervene in a wrong, but we want to be subtle and hidden about it; but while we are scheming our way to the perfect plan, things fall apart and we miss our chance. Maybe it's never happened to you, but it has certainly happened to me.
Of course, the good news - no, the great news - is that God can redeem even our missed opportunities and use them for good, as he did in the story of Joseph. That's just how amazing God's grace really is.
jB
Now, for the forgotten good guy in the story of Joseph. Joseph's story is told in the second half of the book of Genesis. Here's a synopsis: Joseph is the favorite son and his brothers are jealous, so his brothers sell him into slavery; Joseph ends up in Egypt where he goes from high level servant to jail to very high level servant; famine hits the land and his brothers are forced to come to Egypt for food and approach Joseph; a happy reunion ensues.
As I read through the story this time, I noticed something that I have never noticed before - not all of the brothers were "in on it," so to speak. Initially, the brothers were just going to kill Joseph, but one of the brothers - Reuben - intervened and suggested that they throw Joseph in a well. The story indicates that Reuben intended to come back later and rescue Joseph. But before Reuben can get back to save his little brother, the other brothers get the bright idea to make a profit by selling Joseph to a band of nomadic traders. Reuben shows up and is deeply saddened by the turn of events...but then ends up going along with the story given to Joseph's father, Jacob, about Joseph being killed.
What struck me about this is that it goes to show that sometimes the best intentions are thwarted by a desire to "save face." Reuben was the oldest brother and had he been forceful from the beginning, he could have saved Joseph. Instead, he tried to do it in a way that would allow him to still look good with his brothers...and Joseph paid the price. How often does that happen to us? We want to do something good or to intervene in a wrong, but we want to be subtle and hidden about it; but while we are scheming our way to the perfect plan, things fall apart and we miss our chance. Maybe it's never happened to you, but it has certainly happened to me.
Of course, the good news - no, the great news - is that God can redeem even our missed opportunities and use them for good, as he did in the story of Joseph. That's just how amazing God's grace really is.
jB
Thursday, March 10, 2011
First Day Observations
First of all, let me just say that the caffeine withdrawal has been much worse this year than I remember it being before. My head started hurting at about 5 PM yesterday and is just now beginning to feel better. I just keep reminding myself that it is worth it.
My major realization yesterday was that I have been spending so much of my time centered around food that when that component was cut back dramatically by giving up between meal snacking and desserts, I found myself sitting around bored yesterday. It wasn't that I was hungry, though there were moments when it felt that way. It was more that I didn't know what else to do with myself...so I did more housework. In short, I was more productive, which means that my wife will definitely like this Lenten experience.
I can't help but wonder, though, how much my constant snacking and filling time with food obscured the times when I could have been listening for God. How many times have I missed God's voice because I wanted another cookie or another glass of Mt. Dew? I am excited about this practice and am looking forward to giving some of that "food time" to the practice of listening for God.
When it comes to the Bible reading, the first day's reading was Genesis 1-27. As I read it, I was struck by how often God responded to people who were not "special" according to the covenant. God hears the prayers of Hagar for Ishmael and promises to take care of Ishmael even though the promise would not be fulfilled through him. God hears the prayers of Abimelech - a king who had taken Abraham's wife into the palace because Abraham had pretended his wife was really his sister - even though Abimelech is "outside" the promise to Abraham. Abimelech even prevails upon God with the prayer, "Lord, will you destroy an innocent nation?" (Genesis 20:3).
Usually, the Old Testament is viewed as the story of God and the Jews, with everyone else being excluded and/or punished for not being chosen. I get a different picture from reading the first half of Genesis - a picture in which God cares for all of creation, even going so far as to say that the covenant with Abraham is not for Abraham or Abraham's descendants alone, but that "all peoples on earth will be blessed" through Abraham (Genesis 12:3).
I like the idea of worshiping a God who includes.
My major realization yesterday was that I have been spending so much of my time centered around food that when that component was cut back dramatically by giving up between meal snacking and desserts, I found myself sitting around bored yesterday. It wasn't that I was hungry, though there were moments when it felt that way. It was more that I didn't know what else to do with myself...so I did more housework. In short, I was more productive, which means that my wife will definitely like this Lenten experience.
I can't help but wonder, though, how much my constant snacking and filling time with food obscured the times when I could have been listening for God. How many times have I missed God's voice because I wanted another cookie or another glass of Mt. Dew? I am excited about this practice and am looking forward to giving some of that "food time" to the practice of listening for God.
When it comes to the Bible reading, the first day's reading was Genesis 1-27. As I read it, I was struck by how often God responded to people who were not "special" according to the covenant. God hears the prayers of Hagar for Ishmael and promises to take care of Ishmael even though the promise would not be fulfilled through him. God hears the prayers of Abimelech - a king who had taken Abraham's wife into the palace because Abraham had pretended his wife was really his sister - even though Abimelech is "outside" the promise to Abraham. Abimelech even prevails upon God with the prayer, "Lord, will you destroy an innocent nation?" (Genesis 20:3).
Usually, the Old Testament is viewed as the story of God and the Jews, with everyone else being excluded and/or punished for not being chosen. I get a different picture from reading the first half of Genesis - a picture in which God cares for all of creation, even going so far as to say that the covenant with Abraham is not for Abraham or Abraham's descendants alone, but that "all peoples on earth will be blessed" through Abraham (Genesis 12:3).
I like the idea of worshiping a God who includes.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
The Practice(s) of Lent
For those who are not familiar with Lent, it consists of a 40 day time period (excluding Sundays) prior to Easter Sunday during which some Christians choose to fast in order to prepare for the celebration of Easter. The fast can take a variety of forms, from fasting certain kinds of food to certain kinds of activities.
In my own experience, I have done a variety of things. I have fasted caffeine and desserts, I have read through the whole Bible, and so on and so forth - with differing results.
This year, I am trying a different approach. I have divided my Lenten practices into two categories - practices for physical health and practices for spiritual health in order to keep each practice in its context.
With that in mind, here are the practices I am undertaking and why:
Practices for Physical Health
jB
In my own experience, I have done a variety of things. I have fasted caffeine and desserts, I have read through the whole Bible, and so on and so forth - with differing results.
This year, I am trying a different approach. I have divided my Lenten practices into two categories - practices for physical health and practices for spiritual health in order to keep each practice in its context.
With that in mind, here are the practices I am undertaking and why:
Practices for Physical Health
- No caffeinated drinks and no desserts - because I consume too much money & calories eating and drinking these things.
- No eating between meals - again, because I consume wastefully.
- 30 minutes of some kind of exercise 6 days a week - because my life is sedentary and that needs to change.
- Read the whole Bible - a repeat of last year, because I need to spend more time experiencing God's Word.
- No Football Manager 2011 - this is a soccer game on my computer that eats up too much of my time and stokes an unhealthy level of frustration/anger in me. Giving it up will free up more time to spend with my kids.
- No spending beyond what is absolutely necessary - because I am addicted to consumption and need to break the irresponsible spending habits that draw me away from God.
jB
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
New Title. New Look. It's time for Lent.
Once again, Lent is upon us. And once again, I hope to use this blog as a place to explore the lessons I am learning through the experiences of Lent.
In honor of the new start, I have chosen to rename my blog "Terra Incognita," which is Latin for "Unknown Land." I borrowed the phrase from one of my favorite preachers, the late Peter Gomes of Harvard Memorial Chapel, who used it to describe the ultimate goal of Christianity as leading the way in exploring terra incognita. I liked the phrase and, since that is my goal this season of Lent, I co-opted it for my own purposes.
A word about how this year will differ from last year. Last year, my posts focused solely on the Bible reading portion of my Lenten experience. This year, I hope to be more broad and write about the entirety of the experience - from giving up caffeine and desserts and a certain video game to adding daily exercise to reading through the whole Bible in 40 days again this year. All of it will provide fodder for this Lenten journey. (More on the specifics of what I'm doing and why coming tomorrow)
In addition, Pastor Troy - my local church pastor - has invited our entire congregation to join him in a complete fast for the 24 hours prior to each Sunday's worship service. I have chosen to accept the challenge and will be including that experience in the blog.
I hope that by the time I celebrate the Resurrection on Easter Morning, I will have been transformed by this experience into a more complete reflection of Jesus. And I invite anyone who reads this to join me on the journey. I have no idea where it will lead, but it should be fun.
jB
In honor of the new start, I have chosen to rename my blog "Terra Incognita," which is Latin for "Unknown Land." I borrowed the phrase from one of my favorite preachers, the late Peter Gomes of Harvard Memorial Chapel, who used it to describe the ultimate goal of Christianity as leading the way in exploring terra incognita. I liked the phrase and, since that is my goal this season of Lent, I co-opted it for my own purposes.
A word about how this year will differ from last year. Last year, my posts focused solely on the Bible reading portion of my Lenten experience. This year, I hope to be more broad and write about the entirety of the experience - from giving up caffeine and desserts and a certain video game to adding daily exercise to reading through the whole Bible in 40 days again this year. All of it will provide fodder for this Lenten journey. (More on the specifics of what I'm doing and why coming tomorrow)
In addition, Pastor Troy - my local church pastor - has invited our entire congregation to join him in a complete fast for the 24 hours prior to each Sunday's worship service. I have chosen to accept the challenge and will be including that experience in the blog.
I hope that by the time I celebrate the Resurrection on Easter Morning, I will have been transformed by this experience into a more complete reflection of Jesus. And I invite anyone who reads this to join me on the journey. I have no idea where it will lead, but it should be fun.
jB
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