One of my favorite poems is Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken. There is something poignant about the image of standing at a fork in the path and having to choose which direction to take. That image is probably why The Road Not Taken has achieved the status as an iconic American poem.
These days, I feel as though my life has reached the point of mirroring the poem - or at least its first lines:
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood..."
Right at this moment I see myself standing in that yellow wood; listening to the breeze blow through the trees; considering the two paths that lay ahead of me and wondering what lies down each; wishing that I could see just a little bit farther down each, just around the next bend or over the next hill.
But alas, I can't. I have not the time to travel down one a ways and then return to take the other. I must choose one or the other.
Which is why I say that my life has become a poem.
The parallel is not exact, though, because the two roads I face do not mirror those described by Frost. He describes a road well traveled and a road not so well traveled. By contrast, I see two paths that appear equally worn.
On the left is a path that looks for all intents and purposes like it ends in a dead end about 100 yards down the road. But there might be a narrow path at the cul-de-sac at the end of the path. It's a little foggy and I think I see something, but can I risk choosing a path without knowing that it actually leads somewhere?
On the right, though, is a path that bends sharply at about 100 yards. It clearly goes somewhere, I just have no idea where.
And so here I stand.
The frustrating part is that this time I can't fall back on the "God wants one and not the other" position. Because of what I believe about God and the future and free will, I am forced to admit that both are viable options. To be sure, one path may be God's "best" for me, but that does not mean that God will not bless me on the other path. There is no "right" answer in terms of one path leading to happiness and one leading to destruction.
It would help if the two paths were a bit more like Frost's, if there were some obvious distinguishing characteristic that makes one clearly preferable over the other. But again, there is no such mark - they both look equally worn and equally attractive. There are pros and cons associated with each.
None of which helps make the decision easier.
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood..."
And I have have no idea which one I'm taking.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Models of Love: A Tribute to the Mothers in My Life
I am privileged to have four significant mothers in my life: my wife, my mother, my grandmother and my mother-in-law.
Each of these wonderful women has been an example and an inspiration to me over the course of the 30 years of my life. And each of them has demonstrated many facets of love to me during that time.
Specifically, though, I find as I reflect on them and the impact that they have had on my life, that each of them - though providing a full-orbed love - has demonstrated quite strongly a particular facet of love. This is not to say that particular facet of love took the place of the others or that other facets were not there in all of them - only that each of them has taught me a great deal about a particular type of love.
Patient Love - My Wife
I know this will come as a shock to anyone who knows me, but I am not the easiest person to get along with or to live with. I am moody, tense, irritable and forgetful. I like to have things my own way and am often far too quick to resort to whining and pouting like a 2 year old if I don't get them that way. Moreover, though I am improving, I am lousy at housework - just plain lousy.
Yet through all of this, my wife has shown a patient love that never seems to get tired of my stupidity and idiotic behavior. I know that I must annoy the crap out of her sometimes, but she is always patient and kind with me, whether I deserve it or not.
She is also a patient mother (for the most part) - dealing with the stressors of kids yelling and playing far better than I do in most cases. She patiently works with Ike and Hannah to teach them words and games, not throwing up her hands in frustration when they don't "get it" right away.
She is my model of God's patient love.
Steadfast Love - My Mother
The one thing I value most about my mother is her constancy. She is rock steady and steadfast. At times when everything else seems to be going to hell around me, I know that I can call my mother and she will be there with words that I need to hear.
They may be words of encouragement and they may be words of admonishment, but my mother has never been afraid to speak to me the words I need to hear whether I like them or not.
Even when, as a teenager, I said hurtful and evil things to her and treated her cruelly, she did not waver in her love for me. Looking back now on the times when I thought she "hated" me, I realize that many of her actions were done out of steadfast love for me - even if they were excruciatingly painful to her.
In my eyes (though I know that no person is truly like this), her faith has not wavered since I was a child, and I draw strength from knowing that she is steadfastly there.
She is my model of God's steadfast love.
Limitless Love - My Grandmother
While I have lived a relatively easy life in comparison to many others, there have been moments and seasons of that life that were difficult to endure. In each of those cases, my grandmother showed me the meaning of limitless love.
During my first weeks at military school, when I was unsure whether I could survive, I would call her on a regular basis and beg her, crying, to come and get me and bring me home. She never scolded me or told me to "man up" or said "I can't take this anymore." She encouraged constantly and never stopped being there to answer the phone.
I have lived - my whole family has lived - with my grandmother on two separate occasions. When the need arose, she was willing to allow us to do so without reservation. Though it was certainly less than ideal at times, she never complained and never said "enough is enough, you have to go."
She is my model of God's limitless love.
Self-Giving Love - My Mother-in-Law
Though I have only been married to her daughter for nine years this Wednesday, I have had the benefit of knowing my mother-in-law my entire life. As a child growing up, I watched her serve the church as the Missions president - teaching about missionaries and ministry around the world. Constantly. It seemed like the two constants in my young church life were that my mother would be the church treasurer and my (future) mother-in-law would be the Missions President. And even from a young age, it was easy to tell that she poured herself completely into the work of supporting the church's missionaries.
It wasn't until I got older and fell in love with her daughter, though, that I really began to understand how deeply my mother-in-law gives of herself in loving the church, her family and others. I have never known someone so willing to quietly do whatever needs to be done regardless of the sacrifice she might have to make.
Every time Melissa and I have moved, she (and my father-in-law) have taken vacation time to come and help us pack and load. She was there when both of our children were born, coaching Melissa far better than I could ever have hoped to. She has been there for her family and her children in ways too numerous to tell.
I deeply admire her, and she is my model of God's self-giving love.
Four amazing women - all of whom are mothers in my life. Each of them has taught me something about what it means to be loved and to love others. Each of them has shown all of the characteristics of love in one way or another, but from each I have learned specifically about the type of love mentioned.
I am who I am because of these four mothers. I am beholden to each of them for the gift(s) of love they have given me, and I hope that I will someday learn to live up to the model of each kind of love in my own life.
I thank God that I have mothers like these.
jB
Each of these wonderful women has been an example and an inspiration to me over the course of the 30 years of my life. And each of them has demonstrated many facets of love to me during that time.
Specifically, though, I find as I reflect on them and the impact that they have had on my life, that each of them - though providing a full-orbed love - has demonstrated quite strongly a particular facet of love. This is not to say that particular facet of love took the place of the others or that other facets were not there in all of them - only that each of them has taught me a great deal about a particular type of love.
Patient Love - My Wife
I know this will come as a shock to anyone who knows me, but I am not the easiest person to get along with or to live with. I am moody, tense, irritable and forgetful. I like to have things my own way and am often far too quick to resort to whining and pouting like a 2 year old if I don't get them that way. Moreover, though I am improving, I am lousy at housework - just plain lousy.
Yet through all of this, my wife has shown a patient love that never seems to get tired of my stupidity and idiotic behavior. I know that I must annoy the crap out of her sometimes, but she is always patient and kind with me, whether I deserve it or not.
She is also a patient mother (for the most part) - dealing with the stressors of kids yelling and playing far better than I do in most cases. She patiently works with Ike and Hannah to teach them words and games, not throwing up her hands in frustration when they don't "get it" right away.
She is my model of God's patient love.
Steadfast Love - My Mother
The one thing I value most about my mother is her constancy. She is rock steady and steadfast. At times when everything else seems to be going to hell around me, I know that I can call my mother and she will be there with words that I need to hear.
They may be words of encouragement and they may be words of admonishment, but my mother has never been afraid to speak to me the words I need to hear whether I like them or not.
Even when, as a teenager, I said hurtful and evil things to her and treated her cruelly, she did not waver in her love for me. Looking back now on the times when I thought she "hated" me, I realize that many of her actions were done out of steadfast love for me - even if they were excruciatingly painful to her.
In my eyes (though I know that no person is truly like this), her faith has not wavered since I was a child, and I draw strength from knowing that she is steadfastly there.
She is my model of God's steadfast love.
Limitless Love - My Grandmother
While I have lived a relatively easy life in comparison to many others, there have been moments and seasons of that life that were difficult to endure. In each of those cases, my grandmother showed me the meaning of limitless love.
During my first weeks at military school, when I was unsure whether I could survive, I would call her on a regular basis and beg her, crying, to come and get me and bring me home. She never scolded me or told me to "man up" or said "I can't take this anymore." She encouraged constantly and never stopped being there to answer the phone.
I have lived - my whole family has lived - with my grandmother on two separate occasions. When the need arose, she was willing to allow us to do so without reservation. Though it was certainly less than ideal at times, she never complained and never said "enough is enough, you have to go."
She is my model of God's limitless love.
Self-Giving Love - My Mother-in-Law
Though I have only been married to her daughter for nine years this Wednesday, I have had the benefit of knowing my mother-in-law my entire life. As a child growing up, I watched her serve the church as the Missions president - teaching about missionaries and ministry around the world. Constantly. It seemed like the two constants in my young church life were that my mother would be the church treasurer and my (future) mother-in-law would be the Missions President. And even from a young age, it was easy to tell that she poured herself completely into the work of supporting the church's missionaries.
It wasn't until I got older and fell in love with her daughter, though, that I really began to understand how deeply my mother-in-law gives of herself in loving the church, her family and others. I have never known someone so willing to quietly do whatever needs to be done regardless of the sacrifice she might have to make.
Every time Melissa and I have moved, she (and my father-in-law) have taken vacation time to come and help us pack and load. She was there when both of our children were born, coaching Melissa far better than I could ever have hoped to. She has been there for her family and her children in ways too numerous to tell.
I deeply admire her, and she is my model of God's self-giving love.
Four amazing women - all of whom are mothers in my life. Each of them has taught me something about what it means to be loved and to love others. Each of them has shown all of the characteristics of love in one way or another, but from each I have learned specifically about the type of love mentioned.
I am who I am because of these four mothers. I am beholden to each of them for the gift(s) of love they have given me, and I hope that I will someday learn to live up to the model of each kind of love in my own life.
I thank God that I have mothers like these.
jB
Friday, May 6, 2011
God and GLEE
My wife and I love the show GLEE. Love it. I'm not even sure the word "Gleek" is strong enough to describe it. We look forward to every episode, we buy the songs, we discuss the plot lines. Really, it's rather pathetic, isn't it?
There's a reason, though, that I love GLEE. I love it because it is a tremendously hopeful and joyful show. No matter the dramatic circumstances the characters face, virtually every episode ends on an uplifting note. Take the most recent episode: the club discovers that one of their members is living in a hotel because his dad lost his job. A devastating - and all too common - reality. The response of the GLEE club is to sing - with this member and his little siblings - Fleetwood Mac's "Don't Stop," an anthem of hope about looking forward to a better future.
Cheesy? Yes. But also joyful and hopeful.
Like I said, every episode seems to have an uplifting note. I was mystified, then, when some time ago a pastor friend of mine made a comment on Facebook about how terrible GLEE is as a show. When I questioned him as to why, his response was something along the lines of "It promotes homosexual relationships." I didn't know how to respond at the time.
I think I might now.
Here's the thing - my pastor friend is wrong. GLEE - as I see it, at least - does not promote homosexual relationships so much as it refuses to exclude homosexuals and refuses to participate in the stereotypes that many people want to hold up about homosexuals and other outcasts.
A lot of people, many of whom would call themselves Christians, are bound and determined to exclude members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender communities - and this desired exclusion goes beyond wanting to keep them out of the church. This is not enough for them - LGBT individuals must be excluded from society as a whole. They must not be allowed to adopt children, or share benefits like heterosexual couples. They must be kept away from children so that their "perversion" won't rub off. It is sad but true that a group of people that think this way still exists.
And as much as I respect my pastor friend, I believe he falls into that category. Moreover, I believe that is why he has such a problem with GLEE.
Because in order to exclude an entire group of people, you first have to set them apart as needing to be excluded. You cannot treat a person you want to exclude as a person. You have to symbolically exclude them - in language and in thought - in order to proceed to physical exclusion. So homosexuals become "fags," lesbians become "dykes," and so on. All LGBT individuals are portrayed as freaks and deviants who are promiscuous, diseased and who prey on children. In this way it becomes permissible - even admirable - to deny such people the rights and privileges associated with "normal" people.
The only problem is that if this kind of exclusion is to succeed, it must be complete. The symbolic and stereotypical caricatures cannot be challenged. If the "other" - in this case, members of the LGBT community, is humanized it becomes more difficult to convince people to hate them, to exclude them, to deny their humanity.
So when a show like GLEE comes on - with characters like the flamboyant and self-assured Kurt and the conflicted, tormented Dave and Santana who struggles with denial and Brittany who simply doesn't know - and paints such people in normal terms as just like other students, such a show must be resisted. Gays cannot be kind or loving or compassionate because if they are then what grounds are left for exclusion. Hence the outcry among certain segments of the so-called "Christian" community against a show that consistently sends a message of hope.
It is for this reason - the steadfast message of hope and love and acceptance - that I think GLEE sometimes preaches the message of God better than I have ever done, even in the best of my sermons. The message of God is a message of embrace and inclusion, not of exclusion. It is a message of love, not hate. It is a message of hope that doesn't dehumanize any individual or group.
In short, what I'm saying is that Jesus might well be a "Gleek" - or at least Jesus would be more interested in its message of inclusion than too many Christians' message of exclusion.
There's a reason, though, that I love GLEE. I love it because it is a tremendously hopeful and joyful show. No matter the dramatic circumstances the characters face, virtually every episode ends on an uplifting note. Take the most recent episode: the club discovers that one of their members is living in a hotel because his dad lost his job. A devastating - and all too common - reality. The response of the GLEE club is to sing - with this member and his little siblings - Fleetwood Mac's "Don't Stop," an anthem of hope about looking forward to a better future.
Cheesy? Yes. But also joyful and hopeful.
Like I said, every episode seems to have an uplifting note. I was mystified, then, when some time ago a pastor friend of mine made a comment on Facebook about how terrible GLEE is as a show. When I questioned him as to why, his response was something along the lines of "It promotes homosexual relationships." I didn't know how to respond at the time.
I think I might now.
Here's the thing - my pastor friend is wrong. GLEE - as I see it, at least - does not promote homosexual relationships so much as it refuses to exclude homosexuals and refuses to participate in the stereotypes that many people want to hold up about homosexuals and other outcasts.
A lot of people, many of whom would call themselves Christians, are bound and determined to exclude members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender communities - and this desired exclusion goes beyond wanting to keep them out of the church. This is not enough for them - LGBT individuals must be excluded from society as a whole. They must not be allowed to adopt children, or share benefits like heterosexual couples. They must be kept away from children so that their "perversion" won't rub off. It is sad but true that a group of people that think this way still exists.
And as much as I respect my pastor friend, I believe he falls into that category. Moreover, I believe that is why he has such a problem with GLEE.
Because in order to exclude an entire group of people, you first have to set them apart as needing to be excluded. You cannot treat a person you want to exclude as a person. You have to symbolically exclude them - in language and in thought - in order to proceed to physical exclusion. So homosexuals become "fags," lesbians become "dykes," and so on. All LGBT individuals are portrayed as freaks and deviants who are promiscuous, diseased and who prey on children. In this way it becomes permissible - even admirable - to deny such people the rights and privileges associated with "normal" people.
The only problem is that if this kind of exclusion is to succeed, it must be complete. The symbolic and stereotypical caricatures cannot be challenged. If the "other" - in this case, members of the LGBT community, is humanized it becomes more difficult to convince people to hate them, to exclude them, to deny their humanity.
So when a show like GLEE comes on - with characters like the flamboyant and self-assured Kurt and the conflicted, tormented Dave and Santana who struggles with denial and Brittany who simply doesn't know - and paints such people in normal terms as just like other students, such a show must be resisted. Gays cannot be kind or loving or compassionate because if they are then what grounds are left for exclusion. Hence the outcry among certain segments of the so-called "Christian" community against a show that consistently sends a message of hope.
It is for this reason - the steadfast message of hope and love and acceptance - that I think GLEE sometimes preaches the message of God better than I have ever done, even in the best of my sermons. The message of God is a message of embrace and inclusion, not of exclusion. It is a message of love, not hate. It is a message of hope that doesn't dehumanize any individual or group.
In short, what I'm saying is that Jesus might well be a "Gleek" - or at least Jesus would be more interested in its message of inclusion than too many Christians' message of exclusion.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
An Important Realization
I am often amused at the times and places in which God reveals things to me about myself and calls me to greater levels of obedience.
This week I had one of those moments in the car on the way back from taking the kids to visit my grandmother.
Before I get to the insight itself, let me set the circumstances. Earlier this week I had been reading Randy Maddox's Responsible Grace - a book on the theology of John Wesley which emphasized the importance that love plays - or at least should play - in the life of Christians. Moreover, in my class we had been discussing the theology of love. Ultimately, I had been spending significant amounts of time contemplating love and what it means to be a loving person.
At this point I should confess that I have long considered myself to be, at my core, a loving person. This is not to say - not even a little bit - that my actions are consistently loving or that I have perfected love. But I believed that, in most of my interactions, I was motivated at the deepest level by concern for the other.
That is, until that car ride when, in a moment of clarity that could only have come from God, I realized that all this time I thought I was loving people, I wasn't. I was loving knowledge and information. More accurately, I was loving knowledge and information more than people. It wasn't that I didn't care about people. Rather, I cared more about knowledge and information and forcing that knowledge onto other people.
This is why I struggled so much with one of the things my district board said when I was pastoring in Oklahoma City - namely, they said that I wasn't coming across to the congregation as someone who loved them. I fought that, thinking the problem was in the way I was trying to communicate my obvious love for them or in their perception. Never did it occur to me that I genuinely wasn't loving them!
Far from being interested in them - and indeed others in my life - for their own sake; far from allowing them space to be themselves; far from listening to their stories and allowing them to invade my own - far from all of that, I was more interested in convincing them to change their views or their behaviors or something else. I approached relationships from the perspective that I had knowledge that they needed and that if I could just impart that knowledge to them, we would all be better off.
The remarkable thing is that it never occurred to me that this was supreme arrogance on my part. Moreover, it was an attitude that stands in direct conflict with one of the core things I believe - that in order to be in a real relationship, one has to allow the other to be on equal footing.
Now, I'm not writing this blog merely as a cathartic experience, though there is an element of that to it. Rather, I decided to share this for two reasons:
1. To apologize to the people who I have loved inadequately. I'm truly sorry that I have not loved as I should and that I have placed knowledge and information ahead of my relationship with you.
2. To begin the exploration of what it means for me to change and how I can go about that. Certainly, I cannot simply forgo knowledge and information - reading is core to who I am. But I must take the time to figure out how to place people in priority over pages.
Because one thing is absolutely certain: now that I know, I can't stay the same. I can't leave it that way. I have been given an insight into myself that disappoints me and frustrates me...but that insight comes with an opportunity to change.
This week I had one of those moments in the car on the way back from taking the kids to visit my grandmother.
Before I get to the insight itself, let me set the circumstances. Earlier this week I had been reading Randy Maddox's Responsible Grace - a book on the theology of John Wesley which emphasized the importance that love plays - or at least should play - in the life of Christians. Moreover, in my class we had been discussing the theology of love. Ultimately, I had been spending significant amounts of time contemplating love and what it means to be a loving person.
At this point I should confess that I have long considered myself to be, at my core, a loving person. This is not to say - not even a little bit - that my actions are consistently loving or that I have perfected love. But I believed that, in most of my interactions, I was motivated at the deepest level by concern for the other.
That is, until that car ride when, in a moment of clarity that could only have come from God, I realized that all this time I thought I was loving people, I wasn't. I was loving knowledge and information. More accurately, I was loving knowledge and information more than people. It wasn't that I didn't care about people. Rather, I cared more about knowledge and information and forcing that knowledge onto other people.
This is why I struggled so much with one of the things my district board said when I was pastoring in Oklahoma City - namely, they said that I wasn't coming across to the congregation as someone who loved them. I fought that, thinking the problem was in the way I was trying to communicate my obvious love for them or in their perception. Never did it occur to me that I genuinely wasn't loving them!
Far from being interested in them - and indeed others in my life - for their own sake; far from allowing them space to be themselves; far from listening to their stories and allowing them to invade my own - far from all of that, I was more interested in convincing them to change their views or their behaviors or something else. I approached relationships from the perspective that I had knowledge that they needed and that if I could just impart that knowledge to them, we would all be better off.
The remarkable thing is that it never occurred to me that this was supreme arrogance on my part. Moreover, it was an attitude that stands in direct conflict with one of the core things I believe - that in order to be in a real relationship, one has to allow the other to be on equal footing.
Now, I'm not writing this blog merely as a cathartic experience, though there is an element of that to it. Rather, I decided to share this for two reasons:
1. To apologize to the people who I have loved inadequately. I'm truly sorry that I have not loved as I should and that I have placed knowledge and information ahead of my relationship with you.
2. To begin the exploration of what it means for me to change and how I can go about that. Certainly, I cannot simply forgo knowledge and information - reading is core to who I am. But I must take the time to figure out how to place people in priority over pages.
Because one thing is absolutely certain: now that I know, I can't stay the same. I can't leave it that way. I have been given an insight into myself that disappoints me and frustrates me...but that insight comes with an opportunity to change.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Reflections on 10 Years Gone and Dreams for 10 Years to Come
I turn 30 today. Three decades I have been on the planet. Almost 1/3 of a century.
If I'm honest, I'm not sure how I feel about that. Or perhaps it would be better to say I wasn't sure how I felt about that. At 30, I'm not exactly where I dreamed I would be.
Then I thought back over where I was 10 years ago today and realized that the last 10 years have been nothing short of amazing.
On the day I turned 20, I was still in college. I had no degree. I had never worked in a church. I had a girlfriend but nothing else.
Between 20 and 30:
The temptation for me has always been to look at what I haven't accomplished and be disappointed and slide into thinking that I have accomplished nothing. The list up there puts the lie to that. Yes, there are things that I thought would have happened by the time I turned 30 - ordination, for one. Yet in spite of those things, the last 10 years of my life have been amazing. Throughout it all I have seen God's hand and experienced God's guidance - even if I have to admit that sometimes that guidance was not exactly what I wanted to hear.
There is no doubt in my mind that the me I am today at 30 is better than it would have been had everything gone according to my plans.
With that in mind, then, I offer up the following dreams for the next 10 years of my life - fully recognizing that they may or may not come true but remaining confident that when I type an "I'm turning 40" blog entry, my life will have been just what it needed to be.
By 40:
jB
If I'm honest, I'm not sure how I feel about that. Or perhaps it would be better to say I wasn't sure how I felt about that. At 30, I'm not exactly where I dreamed I would be.
Then I thought back over where I was 10 years ago today and realized that the last 10 years have been nothing short of amazing.
On the day I turned 20, I was still in college. I had no degree. I had never worked in a church. I had a girlfriend but nothing else.
Between 20 and 30:
- I got married to a ridiculously beautiful and smart and funny and sexy woman.
- I had two amazing children who have transformed my life.
- I got a Bachelor's degree.
- I got a Master's degree.
- I served as an Associate Pastor
- I served as a Lead Pastor
- I experienced major transformation from God.
- I lived in Bourbonnais, IL; Overland Park, KS; Merillville, IN; Lafayette, IN; Oklahoma City, OK; and Logansport, IN.
- I bought a house.
- I sold a house (after a lot of heartache).
- I survived having my house broken into.
The temptation for me has always been to look at what I haven't accomplished and be disappointed and slide into thinking that I have accomplished nothing. The list up there puts the lie to that. Yes, there are things that I thought would have happened by the time I turned 30 - ordination, for one. Yet in spite of those things, the last 10 years of my life have been amazing. Throughout it all I have seen God's hand and experienced God's guidance - even if I have to admit that sometimes that guidance was not exactly what I wanted to hear.
There is no doubt in my mind that the me I am today at 30 is better than it would have been had everything gone according to my plans.
With that in mind, then, I offer up the following dreams for the next 10 years of my life - fully recognizing that they may or may not come true but remaining confident that when I type an "I'm turning 40" blog entry, my life will have been just what it needed to be.
By 40:
- I would like to be even happier in my marriage than I am now.
- I would like to see my kids continue to grow into the awesome boy and girl they are becoming.
- I would like to have bought a house with my wife that we can stay in for 10+ years.
- I would like to never distance myself from God.
- I would like to complete a Master of Divinity degree.
- I would like to complete a Doctoral degree.
- I would like to have written a book (not necessarily published by 40, but at least written)
- I would like to be established as a Spiritual Director and/or Spiritual Formation pastor.
- I would like to be ordained.
- I would like to have traveled to England and/or Europe.
jB
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Complete Victory
The chorus of one of my favorite songs - Mighty To Save - includes a line that is quite appropriate to the celebration of Easter. Speaking of Jesus, the same Jesus who was crucified, dead and buried, the song says:
"He rose and conquered the grave."
Jesus conquered the grave. Conquered. As in defeated. As in overcame. As in took away the power of the grave.
The song is not alone in its proclamation. Nearly all of the ancient creeds of the Christian faith contain language about Jesus' descent into the grave (or hell, if you prefer) and his victorious ascent.
Moreover, Jesus himself speaks of this ultimate victory, in Revelation 1:18:
I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look, I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and hell.
I love this verse. To me, it is the perfect Easter verse. You see, Jesus was dead as dead could be on Friday but on Sunday Jesus was resurrected and, in doing so, Jesus permanently conquered the grave and hell.
All of that leads me to the question: Why does Jesus say that he has the keys if not to proclaim that ultimately even the gates of hell will be thrown open and even those once condemned will be given the opportunity to join God's Kingdom again?
Jesus has the keys, so he can unlock hell and the grave whenever he desires, so what possible reason could we have for assuming that he won't? I have read some interpreters who have said that Jesus has the keys in order to ensure that the gates of hell remain locked and all those bad people will stay in.
Huh?
Where in the New Testament do we find any image of Jesus as an excluder? Where do we see Jesus keeping people out? Show me...
It's not there! We see instead a Jesus who lets everyone hang out with him and who calls the outcasts to the highest positions in his ministry. We see a radically inclusive Jesus.
So tell me again where it makes sense that Jesus would use his victory against death and hell to keep people in?
Besides, what kind of victory did Jesus win on Easter morning if in the end hell is still eternal and final? How is that "conquering the grave and hell?"
This, to me is the great news of Easter. Not only is Jesus alive. Not only does Jesus' life mean that every part and member of creation can also have life to the fullest. Not only does Jesus' life mean that God's Kingdom has broken in here and now.
Ultimately, Easter means all of that and more: Jesus' life defeats death forever and throws open the gates of death and hell, finally and completely removing the last barrier keeping people from choosing to enter God's Kingdom.
Does it get any better than that?
"He rose and conquered the grave."
Jesus conquered the grave. Conquered. As in defeated. As in overcame. As in took away the power of the grave.
The song is not alone in its proclamation. Nearly all of the ancient creeds of the Christian faith contain language about Jesus' descent into the grave (or hell, if you prefer) and his victorious ascent.
Moreover, Jesus himself speaks of this ultimate victory, in Revelation 1:18:
I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look, I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and hell.
I love this verse. To me, it is the perfect Easter verse. You see, Jesus was dead as dead could be on Friday but on Sunday Jesus was resurrected and, in doing so, Jesus permanently conquered the grave and hell.
All of that leads me to the question: Why does Jesus say that he has the keys if not to proclaim that ultimately even the gates of hell will be thrown open and even those once condemned will be given the opportunity to join God's Kingdom again?
Jesus has the keys, so he can unlock hell and the grave whenever he desires, so what possible reason could we have for assuming that he won't? I have read some interpreters who have said that Jesus has the keys in order to ensure that the gates of hell remain locked and all those bad people will stay in.
Huh?
Where in the New Testament do we find any image of Jesus as an excluder? Where do we see Jesus keeping people out? Show me...
It's not there! We see instead a Jesus who lets everyone hang out with him and who calls the outcasts to the highest positions in his ministry. We see a radically inclusive Jesus.
So tell me again where it makes sense that Jesus would use his victory against death and hell to keep people in?
Besides, what kind of victory did Jesus win on Easter morning if in the end hell is still eternal and final? How is that "conquering the grave and hell?"
This, to me is the great news of Easter. Not only is Jesus alive. Not only does Jesus' life mean that every part and member of creation can also have life to the fullest. Not only does Jesus' life mean that God's Kingdom has broken in here and now.
Ultimately, Easter means all of that and more: Jesus' life defeats death forever and throws open the gates of death and hell, finally and completely removing the last barrier keeping people from choosing to enter God's Kingdom.
Does it get any better than that?
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
An Invitation to Dance
When I was growing up, there was a very distinct image of God painted by those around me. God was the most powerful being ever and God knows everything. Consequently, God was watching every minute of my life and was especially disappointed when I failed, when I sinned, when I let Jesus down.
I'm not sure that it was intentional by the people around me, but this image was reinforced all the time - by Sunday School teachers, by pastors, by my parents, by everyone. The only God I knew was the all-knowing God with the eagle eye for sin.
And I have to confess that I have always felt the tension between that image of God and the loving Jesus that I was always taught about. Jesus wanted to be my friend, God just demanded my obedience. For most of my life I was unable to put words to the dilemma, but I felt it nonetheless. Jesus was kind but God was oppressive. Jesus I wanted, God I didn't.
Over the course of the last several years, though, I have come to understand where that tension comes from. When we are tied to a view of God who knows absolutely every detail about everything, we cannot escape the oppressive God. A God who knows every detail of the future cannot be loved, only obeyed and feared.
Yet this was all I knew...until I encountered theologian Clark Pinnock and a radically different image of God. Pinnock writes that, instead of viewing God as an oppressive, all-knowing dictator,
God is like the partner in a dance. As we act out our steps God is always there, leaping at just the right moments, steadying at others, and keeping perfect balance with the living reality that we are.
God as dance partner? What a beautiful image! God is not a judge dispassionately watching us dance through life, looking for our missteps and criticizing us for our falls. God is not the sole choreographer, either; God is not demanding that we slavishly follow the steps that have been laid out since the beginning of time. No, God allows us to play a part in choreographing the dance of our lives - indeed, the dance of creation itself.
God dances with us. God responds to us. God is always there to join us in a dance. The invitation never expires.
What a contrast to the domineering God I heard about for so many years!
In a way, God as the dance partner is a fitting image, since the dominant theological image for the Trinity is one of dance (the technical word used by many theologians is perichoresis) - the Father, the Son and the Spirit are all engaged in an eternal dance in which all lead and none lead. It is the ultimate expression of love and joy.
And that is what God invites us to be a part of. Where do I sign up?
I can't help but think that if we who are already learning to dance with God spent more time inviting others to join the dance and less time trying to get them to say a particular prayer or start following a certain list of rules, we would have much greater success with that thing we call "evangelism."
Because God is not waiting for people to say a prayer or obey a list of rules.
God is waiting with hand extended, asking quite simply,
"May I have this dance?"
I'm not sure that it was intentional by the people around me, but this image was reinforced all the time - by Sunday School teachers, by pastors, by my parents, by everyone. The only God I knew was the all-knowing God with the eagle eye for sin.
And I have to confess that I have always felt the tension between that image of God and the loving Jesus that I was always taught about. Jesus wanted to be my friend, God just demanded my obedience. For most of my life I was unable to put words to the dilemma, but I felt it nonetheless. Jesus was kind but God was oppressive. Jesus I wanted, God I didn't.
Over the course of the last several years, though, I have come to understand where that tension comes from. When we are tied to a view of God who knows absolutely every detail about everything, we cannot escape the oppressive God. A God who knows every detail of the future cannot be loved, only obeyed and feared.
Yet this was all I knew...until I encountered theologian Clark Pinnock and a radically different image of God. Pinnock writes that, instead of viewing God as an oppressive, all-knowing dictator,
God is like the partner in a dance. As we act out our steps God is always there, leaping at just the right moments, steadying at others, and keeping perfect balance with the living reality that we are.
God as dance partner? What a beautiful image! God is not a judge dispassionately watching us dance through life, looking for our missteps and criticizing us for our falls. God is not the sole choreographer, either; God is not demanding that we slavishly follow the steps that have been laid out since the beginning of time. No, God allows us to play a part in choreographing the dance of our lives - indeed, the dance of creation itself.
God dances with us. God responds to us. God is always there to join us in a dance. The invitation never expires.
What a contrast to the domineering God I heard about for so many years!
In a way, God as the dance partner is a fitting image, since the dominant theological image for the Trinity is one of dance (the technical word used by many theologians is perichoresis) - the Father, the Son and the Spirit are all engaged in an eternal dance in which all lead and none lead. It is the ultimate expression of love and joy.
And that is what God invites us to be a part of. Where do I sign up?
I can't help but think that if we who are already learning to dance with God spent more time inviting others to join the dance and less time trying to get them to say a particular prayer or start following a certain list of rules, we would have much greater success with that thing we call "evangelism."
Because God is not waiting for people to say a prayer or obey a list of rules.
God is waiting with hand extended, asking quite simply,
"May I have this dance?"
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