Brandon C. Jones's Blog, page 9
January 29, 2015
Freedom from asking, “How Long?”
When I am in the driver’s seat of our family mini van I often hear questions that begin with the words “how long.” We are not in the van a lot around town, but to get to bigger towns we have to travel quite a ways. I usually don’t mind. The sky is huge. The animals are out. The crops come and go. There’s much to ponder during our trips across the prairie.
My kids have to ponder them too. We don’t have any screens built into our mini van, and we have a no-screen policy for most family trips. There are exceptions for trips that last for hours upon hours. My wife and I aren’t insane. Without screens in front of them our children are able to see what I see while we drive, and they especially notice when we slow down through another small town. That’s when the “how long” questions really come. My youngest child hopes that every small town is home and the trip is over. Even the nearest town to home is still a good twenty minutes away, so the waiting continues. During the trip each of us has a choice to make: we can either enjoy the trip for however long it lasts, or we can grow tiresome of waiting and constantly ask “how long?”
Living life in a fallen world is no different, especially for those of us who always seem waiting for what’s next. We could be waiting for the weather to get warmer. We might wait for a situation to change at work or at home. We could be planning our next trip, or always planning the trip of a lifetime that—so far—has taken a lifetime to come together. It may never come at all. Worst of all, we might ask “how long?” before other people change. We tell ourselves the lie that once they change or our circumstances change, then we’ll change too. Until something changes, all we can focus on is that it hasn’t yet, so we ask God, “how long?”
I imagine his response to us is not much different than that of the driver on a trip. There is a destination, and we are headed there. Sit tight. Enjoy the view. Befriend the company. Take advantage of the time. In the Psalms many authors ask God “how long?” when faced with troubles. For example, in Psalm 13 David asks God how long he will feel abandoned and forgotten. We never learn God’s specific answer to David’s question, but by the end of the psalm David trusts God’s love, rejoices in his salvation, and praises God’s goodness. I suspect God did not answer David’s “how long” question so as quickly as the psalm reads. Instead, David adjusted his attitude. Once David changed his heart, the answer no longer mattered.
Marva Dawn has an entire book on how the psalms present the “how long” question. She writes: “When we can rest enough to trust with our times the One who is trustable, then we don’t have to ask the ‘how long?’ questions. We will be able to see that however long God wants certain processes to continue is simply the gift of his perfect wisdom.” Note how she uses the words “rest” and “trust.” When we ask God all our “how long?” questions they are mostly half-hearted. We ask them, acting as if we want to rely on his timing, but we remain restless because we insist he meet our deadlines. In other words, we trust in ourselves more than in him. It’s no wonder we become impatient and restless throughout our days.
It’s only natural to wonder how long something will last, but consider changing your attitude next time you want to lament about your circumstances. Dawn says, “The delightful irony is that usually the change of attitude is the deliverance. As soon as we stop asking ‘how long?’ we are liberated from that question’s bondage. Then we can rejoice instead in the memories of how God has been good to us.” Ah yes, joy. There is no joy for the kid who is grumpy that we are not yet at home, but there is much joy for the ones who open up their eyes to the world around them and the people next to them, and the God with them. We may not be there yet, but we can rest and trust that the driver of our lives knows what he is doing.
My kids have to ponder them too. We don’t have any screens built into our mini van, and we have a no-screen policy for most family trips. There are exceptions for trips that last for hours upon hours. My wife and I aren’t insane. Without screens in front of them our children are able to see what I see while we drive, and they especially notice when we slow down through another small town. That’s when the “how long” questions really come. My youngest child hopes that every small town is home and the trip is over. Even the nearest town to home is still a good twenty minutes away, so the waiting continues. During the trip each of us has a choice to make: we can either enjoy the trip for however long it lasts, or we can grow tiresome of waiting and constantly ask “how long?”
Living life in a fallen world is no different, especially for those of us who always seem waiting for what’s next. We could be waiting for the weather to get warmer. We might wait for a situation to change at work or at home. We could be planning our next trip, or always planning the trip of a lifetime that—so far—has taken a lifetime to come together. It may never come at all. Worst of all, we might ask “how long?” before other people change. We tell ourselves the lie that once they change or our circumstances change, then we’ll change too. Until something changes, all we can focus on is that it hasn’t yet, so we ask God, “how long?”
I imagine his response to us is not much different than that of the driver on a trip. There is a destination, and we are headed there. Sit tight. Enjoy the view. Befriend the company. Take advantage of the time. In the Psalms many authors ask God “how long?” when faced with troubles. For example, in Psalm 13 David asks God how long he will feel abandoned and forgotten. We never learn God’s specific answer to David’s question, but by the end of the psalm David trusts God’s love, rejoices in his salvation, and praises God’s goodness. I suspect God did not answer David’s “how long” question so as quickly as the psalm reads. Instead, David adjusted his attitude. Once David changed his heart, the answer no longer mattered.
Marva Dawn has an entire book on how the psalms present the “how long” question. She writes: “When we can rest enough to trust with our times the One who is trustable, then we don’t have to ask the ‘how long?’ questions. We will be able to see that however long God wants certain processes to continue is simply the gift of his perfect wisdom.” Note how she uses the words “rest” and “trust.” When we ask God all our “how long?” questions they are mostly half-hearted. We ask them, acting as if we want to rely on his timing, but we remain restless because we insist he meet our deadlines. In other words, we trust in ourselves more than in him. It’s no wonder we become impatient and restless throughout our days.
It’s only natural to wonder how long something will last, but consider changing your attitude next time you want to lament about your circumstances. Dawn says, “The delightful irony is that usually the change of attitude is the deliverance. As soon as we stop asking ‘how long?’ we are liberated from that question’s bondage. Then we can rejoice instead in the memories of how God has been good to us.” Ah yes, joy. There is no joy for the kid who is grumpy that we are not yet at home, but there is much joy for the ones who open up their eyes to the world around them and the people next to them, and the God with them. We may not be there yet, but we can rest and trust that the driver of our lives knows what he is doing.
January 22, 2015
Limitless Feasting and Self-Forgiveness: Reconsidering fasting and confession
Original sin is life without limits. We can eat any fruit. We can perform any act. Whenever anyone commits any sin, its root is the desire for life without limits. Going back to the Genesis record, life under original sin has its roots in suspicion of God. The serpent’s lie began not with a statement, but rather a question: “Did God really say?” The serpent’s lie was technically about God holding something back from his creatures, namely that he did not want them to become like him. But the reason the lie took root is that we felt like we were entitled to be creatures without limits.
For many, this desire leads to an attempt to live without God, but even for Christians original sin remains a struggle this side of the kingdom. We prefer to address every craving by ourselves. This is obvious with needs such as food, drink, clothing, and shelter, but it also includes love, joy, peace, and even forgiveness. In addition we tend to shut out God from our daily lives and limit him to an emergency responder. It is only when we encounter some problem that we cannot fix ourselves that we will finally turn to God. This is backwards. God’s enablement ought to come first, but to receive it we must continually empty ourselves. It is only when we are empty that we become keenly aware of our own limits and then turn to God. The problem is we don’t like to feel empty, let alone empty ourselves. This is why ancient Christians considered self-emptying to be a spiritual discipline. They used fasting and confession as tools to empty themselves, and we do well to revisit these tools today.
Fasting
Ancient Christians turned to fasting so that they would be reminded of their need for God in their daily lives, trumping the nourishment of food, drink, and even sleep. But most Christians today, especially Protestants, typically do not fast, or do it for the wrong reasons by trying to accomplish some other end. We secretly wouldn’t mind weighing less, gaining some sort of health advantage, or—aided with social media—eerily resemble the kinds of people Jesus says to avoid, for “they already have their reward in full.” If we want to truly address original sin’s nagging presence in our lives, we must practice emptying ourselves. Marjorie Thompson reminds us that this is why ancient Christians linked fasting with Christ. For it is only in Christ that Adam’s original sin is reversed. She writes, “After his Baptism, Jesus began the work of redemption by keeping a forty-day fast in the wilderness. When he became hungry, he refused the lie that life depends on bread alone and reaffirmed that human beings depend in all things on God for life. He said no to the limitless, self-referential power Satan tempted him with.”
Confession
One other practice that ancient Christians linked to Jesus’ redemption was confession. As a Baptist I affirm that all of God’s children are siblings of Christ and that he alone is our high priest. We are not required to interact with God through some human agent, but I wonder if it is a mistake to think we need not confess our sins to one another. It seems the roots of our avoidance to do so lie in our original sin more than our theology. When we choose only to confess our sins privately, we seem to ignore Jesus’ remarks about sin and light. Sin loves the dark and fears being exposed by the light. The times in my life when my sins, especially habitual ones, had their greatest hold over me were when I refused to include anyone else in my struggle against them. Sure, I would pray alone quietly to God for forgiveness, but my habit would remain unchanged.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer devotes an entire chapter of his marvelous book Life Together on “Confession and Communion.” The chapter begins with a quote from James 5:16, “confess your faults one to another.” Given the poor track record of confessing sins alone, Bonhoeffer wonders if it is all just deception. We tell ourselves we are confessing to God, but maybe we are just confessing to ourselves and granting ourselves absolution for our own sins. In terms of original sin, what Bonhoeffer describes and I have experienced is that through private confession we enable ourselves for our own forgiveness. This brand of self-forgiveness never seems to lead to a clean break with habitual sin. So what does? He writes, “Who can give us the certainty that, in the confession and the forgiveness of our sins, we are not dealing with ourselves but with the living God? God gives us this certainty through our brother. Our brother breaks the circle of self-deception.” The flipside is even better in that God tells us that our sins are forgiven through our brother or sister. We never hear those wonderful words spoken to us when we confess our sins privately.
Crazy Busy Fullness
Augustine once talked about how we miss out on God’s blessings because we live our lives with our hands overly full, leaving no room for God to add anything else. Our constant busyness leaves too many of us overly full. In response, empty yourself and turn to God’s enablement. Actively provide space for God to speak and bless. And if you are full of sins, as all of us are, then find a brother or sister who you can trust to be a witness. Bonhoeffer does not just talk about confession but also how best to witness someone else’s confession. He says we can only hear it properly when we consider ourselves in light of the cross, where sin’s ugly price and death’s undoing both reside. For the pursuit of human life without limits ends there.
For many, this desire leads to an attempt to live without God, but even for Christians original sin remains a struggle this side of the kingdom. We prefer to address every craving by ourselves. This is obvious with needs such as food, drink, clothing, and shelter, but it also includes love, joy, peace, and even forgiveness. In addition we tend to shut out God from our daily lives and limit him to an emergency responder. It is only when we encounter some problem that we cannot fix ourselves that we will finally turn to God. This is backwards. God’s enablement ought to come first, but to receive it we must continually empty ourselves. It is only when we are empty that we become keenly aware of our own limits and then turn to God. The problem is we don’t like to feel empty, let alone empty ourselves. This is why ancient Christians considered self-emptying to be a spiritual discipline. They used fasting and confession as tools to empty themselves, and we do well to revisit these tools today.
Fasting
Ancient Christians turned to fasting so that they would be reminded of their need for God in their daily lives, trumping the nourishment of food, drink, and even sleep. But most Christians today, especially Protestants, typically do not fast, or do it for the wrong reasons by trying to accomplish some other end. We secretly wouldn’t mind weighing less, gaining some sort of health advantage, or—aided with social media—eerily resemble the kinds of people Jesus says to avoid, for “they already have their reward in full.” If we want to truly address original sin’s nagging presence in our lives, we must practice emptying ourselves. Marjorie Thompson reminds us that this is why ancient Christians linked fasting with Christ. For it is only in Christ that Adam’s original sin is reversed. She writes, “After his Baptism, Jesus began the work of redemption by keeping a forty-day fast in the wilderness. When he became hungry, he refused the lie that life depends on bread alone and reaffirmed that human beings depend in all things on God for life. He said no to the limitless, self-referential power Satan tempted him with.”
Confession
One other practice that ancient Christians linked to Jesus’ redemption was confession. As a Baptist I affirm that all of God’s children are siblings of Christ and that he alone is our high priest. We are not required to interact with God through some human agent, but I wonder if it is a mistake to think we need not confess our sins to one another. It seems the roots of our avoidance to do so lie in our original sin more than our theology. When we choose only to confess our sins privately, we seem to ignore Jesus’ remarks about sin and light. Sin loves the dark and fears being exposed by the light. The times in my life when my sins, especially habitual ones, had their greatest hold over me were when I refused to include anyone else in my struggle against them. Sure, I would pray alone quietly to God for forgiveness, but my habit would remain unchanged.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer devotes an entire chapter of his marvelous book Life Together on “Confession and Communion.” The chapter begins with a quote from James 5:16, “confess your faults one to another.” Given the poor track record of confessing sins alone, Bonhoeffer wonders if it is all just deception. We tell ourselves we are confessing to God, but maybe we are just confessing to ourselves and granting ourselves absolution for our own sins. In terms of original sin, what Bonhoeffer describes and I have experienced is that through private confession we enable ourselves for our own forgiveness. This brand of self-forgiveness never seems to lead to a clean break with habitual sin. So what does? He writes, “Who can give us the certainty that, in the confession and the forgiveness of our sins, we are not dealing with ourselves but with the living God? God gives us this certainty through our brother. Our brother breaks the circle of self-deception.” The flipside is even better in that God tells us that our sins are forgiven through our brother or sister. We never hear those wonderful words spoken to us when we confess our sins privately.
Crazy Busy Fullness
Augustine once talked about how we miss out on God’s blessings because we live our lives with our hands overly full, leaving no room for God to add anything else. Our constant busyness leaves too many of us overly full. In response, empty yourself and turn to God’s enablement. Actively provide space for God to speak and bless. And if you are full of sins, as all of us are, then find a brother or sister who you can trust to be a witness. Bonhoeffer does not just talk about confession but also how best to witness someone else’s confession. He says we can only hear it properly when we consider ourselves in light of the cross, where sin’s ugly price and death’s undoing both reside. For the pursuit of human life without limits ends there.
January 15, 2015
We Used to Pray
As a parent I sometimes have to show tough love to kids who tell me they are bored. Sometimes I can be a little insensitive by saying things like “not my problem” or suggesting chores to liven up the day a bit. They usually wind up finding something else to do, often outside. Other times I take the opportunity to pause what I am doing and listen to my kids. We can catch up on how school is going, what books are being read, what games are popular, and what shows are can’t-miss. I like those times. They don’t bore me at all. I don’t think they bore my kids either.
Similar moments happen around the meal table, and those are even better. Instead of just two family members sharing with each other, the whole family joins in. The time goes by rather quickly. The food seems to taste better too. Sharing meals, moments, and lives with one another enrich all of us, especially compared to going it alone.
A recent study says that in America more than half of all meals are eaten alone. I’m sure some of those meals take place at work. I used to eat a sack lunch in my vehicle most workdays and then take a walk by myself. But most of those lonely meals are probably eaten elsewhere: at home, in the car, or even at a restaurant. For most people all of those meals would be more enjoyable if shared with others. Prayers go the same way. I could not even imagine what the statistic would be for the percentage of prayers spoken by God’s people while they are alone, but it is certainly upward of 50%.
To be sure, praying alone is a good thing. Jesus did it plenty, even to the point where his closest followers wanted him to teach them how he prayed. Clearly, we are to pray alone with discipline: early, late, and often. But praying alone, no matter how often we do it, cannot be the only way we pray. The example handed down to us from the early church is that God’s people prayed together often. It was the first thing they did after Jesus ascended: “They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers” (Acts 1:14). They even continued to pray at the Jerusalem temple together, which caused problems with the authorities there. Paul’s letters are soaked in prayers, both ones that he offered alone to God and those that he sought the church to pray on his behalf while they were gathered. His command to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thess 5:17) did not come in one of his letters written to an individual person, but rather to a church made up of many people. To obey this command we must open our lips and share our prayers out loud with God’s family members.
I cannot speak for all the reasons God’s family members find it difficult to pray together, but boredom could be one factor. We tire of praying together when the topics and requests always seem so shallow and the time set aside for prayer so short. One helpful suggestion is to consider using Scripture as your guide for your prayer, especially in small groups. Another factor could be lack of opportunity. Some churches may not offer many opportunities for communal prayer, which would make it hard for people to practice praying together. As Thom Rainer notes in his book, Autopsy of a Deceased Church, one symptom of a dying church is that they stopped praying together (you can peruse this list for other symptoms).
God’s family table is big, lavish, and full of love. There are no strangers seated at it. Everyone there deserves to be heard. And when we gather in love with one another the time flies. Pray with me that God’s people value once more the discipline of getting together to pray. Not only might it change the world, it would change us for the better.
Similar moments happen around the meal table, and those are even better. Instead of just two family members sharing with each other, the whole family joins in. The time goes by rather quickly. The food seems to taste better too. Sharing meals, moments, and lives with one another enrich all of us, especially compared to going it alone.
A recent study says that in America more than half of all meals are eaten alone. I’m sure some of those meals take place at work. I used to eat a sack lunch in my vehicle most workdays and then take a walk by myself. But most of those lonely meals are probably eaten elsewhere: at home, in the car, or even at a restaurant. For most people all of those meals would be more enjoyable if shared with others. Prayers go the same way. I could not even imagine what the statistic would be for the percentage of prayers spoken by God’s people while they are alone, but it is certainly upward of 50%.
To be sure, praying alone is a good thing. Jesus did it plenty, even to the point where his closest followers wanted him to teach them how he prayed. Clearly, we are to pray alone with discipline: early, late, and often. But praying alone, no matter how often we do it, cannot be the only way we pray. The example handed down to us from the early church is that God’s people prayed together often. It was the first thing they did after Jesus ascended: “They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers” (Acts 1:14). They even continued to pray at the Jerusalem temple together, which caused problems with the authorities there. Paul’s letters are soaked in prayers, both ones that he offered alone to God and those that he sought the church to pray on his behalf while they were gathered. His command to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thess 5:17) did not come in one of his letters written to an individual person, but rather to a church made up of many people. To obey this command we must open our lips and share our prayers out loud with God’s family members.
I cannot speak for all the reasons God’s family members find it difficult to pray together, but boredom could be one factor. We tire of praying together when the topics and requests always seem so shallow and the time set aside for prayer so short. One helpful suggestion is to consider using Scripture as your guide for your prayer, especially in small groups. Another factor could be lack of opportunity. Some churches may not offer many opportunities for communal prayer, which would make it hard for people to practice praying together. As Thom Rainer notes in his book, Autopsy of a Deceased Church, one symptom of a dying church is that they stopped praying together (you can peruse this list for other symptoms).
God’s family table is big, lavish, and full of love. There are no strangers seated at it. Everyone there deserves to be heard. And when we gather in love with one another the time flies. Pray with me that God’s people value once more the discipline of getting together to pray. Not only might it change the world, it would change us for the better.
January 8, 2015
Resolving to be more content
Discontent fuels a large part of our economy. There are no advertisements that tell us to stick with what we’ve already got. No one sells anything by telling us to be satisfied with our homes, furnishings, cars, clothes, gadgets, and especially our physical appearance.
Even the news centers on discontent. Sure, there might be a feel-good story now and again, but it's mostly bad news. Everything that’s wrong with the world gets airtime. The most insidious stories are the ones where some self-appointed life guru tells us how everything we think and do is suddenly wrong, but you can buy the truth from them.
The Internet can be even worse than television as people from our real life promote one thing or another, which robs our contentment. People have cuter kids than yours. They take better vacations too. They drive fancier cars that require fancier gasoline and parts than yours does. Oh, and by the way, have you seen how often they exercise? How could you not, since they post it everyday and get medals every time they enter some event. Others in your circle of friends will be sure to let you know how much more they read than you do. They also watch way, way less television than you. But who am I kidding. It’s not just “them,” it’s me too. All of us at one time or another wind up marching in lockstep with the world’s vanity fair. We cannot help ourselves.
I am not saying we should all become desert monks tomorrow. Sometimes we might actually need to make a new purchase. Other times we may want to share our interests and hobbies with others. But if we are honest with ourselves, one reason we lack contentment in our lives is because we have not nourished it. Considering that so much of our daily experiences are aimed at stealing contentment, resolve this year to be the year you stopped letting contentment starve to death.
Many Christians know Philippians 4:13 by heart, but fewer know its context: “I [Paul] rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all things through him who gives me strength” (Phil 4:10-13).
For Paul, either need or plenty went along naturally with contentment, but in the land of plenty, we have found it nearly impossible to be content. Looking again at Paul’s words above, the root of our discontent is the heart of humankind’s rebellion from God. We have believed the serpent’s lie that we really are our own gods, so we do all things through ourselves—we must give ourselves our own strength. In order to feed our strength, we turn to various products, knowledge, pleasures, and entertainment, being willfully ignorant of the emptiness they all leave behind.
Paul shared his secret for contentment long ago, but we are not good at listening to it. Stop living your life by your own strength, complete with all its pride and worries, and start living it through God’s. Resolving to do so will not make other people richer, like so many other resolutions will, but it might just enrich your own life. And, if we are really paying attention to God’s calling, it might also enrich the lives of our neighbors as our contentment breeds generosity. For no one is able to be hospitable or generous while discontent.
Even the news centers on discontent. Sure, there might be a feel-good story now and again, but it's mostly bad news. Everything that’s wrong with the world gets airtime. The most insidious stories are the ones where some self-appointed life guru tells us how everything we think and do is suddenly wrong, but you can buy the truth from them.
The Internet can be even worse than television as people from our real life promote one thing or another, which robs our contentment. People have cuter kids than yours. They take better vacations too. They drive fancier cars that require fancier gasoline and parts than yours does. Oh, and by the way, have you seen how often they exercise? How could you not, since they post it everyday and get medals every time they enter some event. Others in your circle of friends will be sure to let you know how much more they read than you do. They also watch way, way less television than you. But who am I kidding. It’s not just “them,” it’s me too. All of us at one time or another wind up marching in lockstep with the world’s vanity fair. We cannot help ourselves.
I am not saying we should all become desert monks tomorrow. Sometimes we might actually need to make a new purchase. Other times we may want to share our interests and hobbies with others. But if we are honest with ourselves, one reason we lack contentment in our lives is because we have not nourished it. Considering that so much of our daily experiences are aimed at stealing contentment, resolve this year to be the year you stopped letting contentment starve to death.
Many Christians know Philippians 4:13 by heart, but fewer know its context: “I [Paul] rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all things through him who gives me strength” (Phil 4:10-13).
For Paul, either need or plenty went along naturally with contentment, but in the land of plenty, we have found it nearly impossible to be content. Looking again at Paul’s words above, the root of our discontent is the heart of humankind’s rebellion from God. We have believed the serpent’s lie that we really are our own gods, so we do all things through ourselves—we must give ourselves our own strength. In order to feed our strength, we turn to various products, knowledge, pleasures, and entertainment, being willfully ignorant of the emptiness they all leave behind.
Paul shared his secret for contentment long ago, but we are not good at listening to it. Stop living your life by your own strength, complete with all its pride and worries, and start living it through God’s. Resolving to do so will not make other people richer, like so many other resolutions will, but it might just enrich your own life. And, if we are really paying attention to God’s calling, it might also enrich the lives of our neighbors as our contentment breeds generosity. For no one is able to be hospitable or generous while discontent.
December 31, 2014
Best of 2014
I agree with Stanley Hauerwas that best is not a theological category, so here is a list of favorites. First, favorite posts of the year, as expressed by hits online, followed by some of my other favorite things that were part of my 2014. Sadly, I'm not Oprah, so no one gets a new car for reading this.
Favorite Posts6. Called To Be Human: Why Jesus still has a body and we will have a new one at his return.
I wrote this as a friendly reminder for Christians that flesh and blood are the stuff of God's kingdom as well as the stuff of our Savior, even today.
Maybe next year I'll be brave enough for friendly reminders that deceased humans do not turn into angels upon death and God's kingdom is not in heaven, but will be right here on earth. We'll see.
5. Guess Who's Not Coming to Dinner: A story about family bonds.
It's been well-documented that church attendance is down among professing Christians. Our little community and church have not been immune from this trend. I'd like to say that even if I wasn't a pastor I would find this trend to be sad.
4. One More Thing Pastors Will Not Admit Publicly (Until Now): It is not the hardest job in the world.
There are legions of sites out there geared toward helping pastors become better pastors, but sometimes they can lend themselves to a little bit of whining. Make no mistake, being a pastor is not easy, but complaining about how hard it is on the Internet is not the most helpful thing either. It's as annoying as that one friend who gets sick and then reacts like no one else in the world has ever been sick before.
3. Weak Assumptions.
Were it not for assumptions, I'm not sure what people would have to talk about in some communal gatherings.
2. Suicide and Forgiveness: Is there any hope for the hopeless?
We do not discuss mental health often enough as Christians, and many times the pain of suicide is only made worse by unhelpful thoughts about its causes and results.
1. Four Blood Moons: Prophetic or Predictable?
Oh John Hagee, perhaps you will find some hidden biblical meaning with American Thanksgiving falling on a certain Thursday in November next year.
Other FavoritesMovie: Her. I'm a sucker for any movie that dares to tackle philosophical themes, especially ones that are interesting to theology (which are nearly all of them). I loved how this movie explored what it means to be human, especially when it comes to our relationships with each other.
Honorable Mentions: Ragamuffin. I'm not saying this is oscar-worthy cinema, but it was refreshing for a biopic about a Christian to be so robust and resist hagiography. Rabbit Hole: This is not an easy movie to find, but it is worth your effort as a realistic portrayal of the grief people endure after losing a child.
Television show: Downton Abbey. After watching the first season, I declared that this is the best drama I have ever seen. Its culture reminds me of some biblical stories, including Jesus' story about the man without proper attire at a wedding feast. I also find the characters familiar as they remind me of people in my own life. For example, Mr. Carson looks like and acts like my Dad. In order to protect the innocent, I'll say no more about the others.
Honorable Mentions: The Americans and Parks and Recreation. I love Ron Swanson, but then again I also love cats, and Ron Swanson is a human cat. This is proven by the fact that he hates cats.
Book: A Diary of Private Prayer by John Baillie. Please buy this book and use it. I've come across no better prayer book in my life. It has enriched my days, and I am sure it would enrich yours too.
Honorable Mentions: Downtown Owl by Chuck Klosterman, Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell, Amazing Grace by Kathleen Norris, and The New Testament and the People of God by N. T. Wright. I had read the second and third installments of Wright's series previously, so I finally caught up with the first volume. I'm hoping to tackle the volume on Paul in 2015.
Music: Reflektor by Arcade Fire. I even saw them in concert this year, which did not disappoint. I'll admit that this is the year I have mostly fallen out of the music scene. I'm okay with that. I listen to NPR a lot when I'm in the car now. I'm getting old.
Honorable Mention: Morning Phase by Beck, which is almost as sad as Sea Change.
Well, that's my list. What's on yours?
Favorite Posts6. Called To Be Human: Why Jesus still has a body and we will have a new one at his return.
I wrote this as a friendly reminder for Christians that flesh and blood are the stuff of God's kingdom as well as the stuff of our Savior, even today.
Maybe next year I'll be brave enough for friendly reminders that deceased humans do not turn into angels upon death and God's kingdom is not in heaven, but will be right here on earth. We'll see.
5. Guess Who's Not Coming to Dinner: A story about family bonds.
It's been well-documented that church attendance is down among professing Christians. Our little community and church have not been immune from this trend. I'd like to say that even if I wasn't a pastor I would find this trend to be sad.
4. One More Thing Pastors Will Not Admit Publicly (Until Now): It is not the hardest job in the world.
There are legions of sites out there geared toward helping pastors become better pastors, but sometimes they can lend themselves to a little bit of whining. Make no mistake, being a pastor is not easy, but complaining about how hard it is on the Internet is not the most helpful thing either. It's as annoying as that one friend who gets sick and then reacts like no one else in the world has ever been sick before.
3. Weak Assumptions.
Were it not for assumptions, I'm not sure what people would have to talk about in some communal gatherings.
2. Suicide and Forgiveness: Is there any hope for the hopeless?
We do not discuss mental health often enough as Christians, and many times the pain of suicide is only made worse by unhelpful thoughts about its causes and results.
1. Four Blood Moons: Prophetic or Predictable?
Oh John Hagee, perhaps you will find some hidden biblical meaning with American Thanksgiving falling on a certain Thursday in November next year.
Other FavoritesMovie: Her. I'm a sucker for any movie that dares to tackle philosophical themes, especially ones that are interesting to theology (which are nearly all of them). I loved how this movie explored what it means to be human, especially when it comes to our relationships with each other.
Honorable Mentions: Ragamuffin. I'm not saying this is oscar-worthy cinema, but it was refreshing for a biopic about a Christian to be so robust and resist hagiography. Rabbit Hole: This is not an easy movie to find, but it is worth your effort as a realistic portrayal of the grief people endure after losing a child.
Television show: Downton Abbey. After watching the first season, I declared that this is the best drama I have ever seen. Its culture reminds me of some biblical stories, including Jesus' story about the man without proper attire at a wedding feast. I also find the characters familiar as they remind me of people in my own life. For example, Mr. Carson looks like and acts like my Dad. In order to protect the innocent, I'll say no more about the others.
Honorable Mentions: The Americans and Parks and Recreation. I love Ron Swanson, but then again I also love cats, and Ron Swanson is a human cat. This is proven by the fact that he hates cats.
Book: A Diary of Private Prayer by John Baillie. Please buy this book and use it. I've come across no better prayer book in my life. It has enriched my days, and I am sure it would enrich yours too.
Honorable Mentions: Downtown Owl by Chuck Klosterman, Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell, Amazing Grace by Kathleen Norris, and The New Testament and the People of God by N. T. Wright. I had read the second and third installments of Wright's series previously, so I finally caught up with the first volume. I'm hoping to tackle the volume on Paul in 2015.
Music: Reflektor by Arcade Fire. I even saw them in concert this year, which did not disappoint. I'll admit that this is the year I have mostly fallen out of the music scene. I'm okay with that. I listen to NPR a lot when I'm in the car now. I'm getting old.
Honorable Mention: Morning Phase by Beck, which is almost as sad as Sea Change.
Well, that's my list. What's on yours?
December 24, 2014
Two Kinds of Christmases: Is there room for just one?
Sixty years ago, author John Steinbeck remarked in a letter to his friend, Adlai Stevenson, that Americans have two kinds of Christmases. Steinbeck had in mind family celebrations that were overly full of food and presents versus ones that were modest and simple. Today, those two kinds of Christmases still hold true. As our family has provided spurts of short-term foster care, I am always amazed at how the entire belongings of a child can fit into one diaper box. A box smaller than many of the presents my kids will open this Christmas Day. Despite having few belongings, imagine the pain of being ripped apart from your family. I grieve for the young soul in our care this year who must spend Christmas in a strange house, sleep in a strange bed, and try to be himself around a bunch of people he just met. I know he’d rather be home, even if that would mean a more modest feast and fewer presents.This time of year being separated from family hurts, whether we choose it or not. Sometimes mere things like money and distance keep families apart. Other times it is something much worse: death. I visited someone earlier this week whose family has endured several deaths the past few years. She had no decorations put up around her house. The Christmas tree did not even go up this year. She said she just couldn’t get into the Christmas spirit. Since there was a pastor in her house, she backtracked a little and said she still celebrated the gift of Jesus and all, but it’s the other stuff she hasn’t wanted to bother with this year.
I reassured her that what she said was perfectly fine with me. In America we have two kinds of Christmases: the cultural one and the Christian one. The cultural one begins on November 1st, swallowing up Thanksgiving whole. It focuses on material goods, romanticizing winter, and overstuffing of all kinds. Overstuffed bellies. Overstuffed calendars. Overstuffed stress. Things must be perfectly perfect. Gifts must be satisfactory. Decorations must be hung. Music must be played. The television shows and movies often focus on some kind of magic, sometimes involving Santa Claus, in which people get to pat themselves on the back for being kind of nice just this once. Other shows may just focus on the tension and irony of having multiple generations of one family come together to tolerate one another for one day a year.
After the season of cultural Christmas ends, there is a big exhale. This kind of Christmas has nearly returned full circle to ancient Saturnalia, a time of topsy-turvy debauchery that took place in late December before the Christian church transformed it into what we now know as Christmas.
At its best, cultural Christmas gets passed down from parents to their children, full of family traditions and memories that are cherished. But when death strikes, it is this kind of Christmas that needs saving. All the bright aspects of Christmas memories become tarnished when there is suddenly one less person sharing them with us. And it feels like they won’t ever be coming back. The treats never get made. The presents do not get wrapped. The decorations remain boxed in the attic. And the whole season—complete with its short days, long nights, forced small-talk, and plastic grins—can become depressing.
All is not lost, because this is the very space where the other kind of Christmas, the Christian one, does its real work. Despite some good-meaning Christians who want to protest everything this time of year (except Hannukah, for some curious reason), the Christian Christmas is a timely annual reminder of the Christian story of creation, rebellion, redemption, and new creation. Christian Christmas centers on the Incarnation, in which God took on human nature by being conceived in the virgin Mary’s womb and then born into our fallen world to redeem us and it from our rebellion against God.
The season of Advent before Christmas Day acts as a preparation for Christmas, reminding us of our need for a savior and Christ’s promise to return to set things aright. Our loved ones may leave us, but Christ has promised he never will. As we focus on gospel themes such as hope, peace, joy, and love and sing songs about the role of Jesus’ birth in the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Christian kind of Christmas is one of the best times of year. This is not because we feel forced to feign cheer or romanticize cold and icy weather, which is hard to do in the Dakotas anyways. Rather, it is because Christian Christmas allows space for all of the human condition within the season itself, including that which makes us lament.
The only threat to the Christian kind of Christmas is when we as God’s people choke it dead. It is when we make sure our holiday lists include everything but worship and prayer. It is when we greedily make sure we take care of our families and ourselves, but neglect our neighbors. It is when our traditions, wonderful as they all are, shut out the gospel of Christ. If and when the two Christmases in America ever merge completely into one, there is no doubt the one left standing will be cultural Christmas. And on that day I hope the powers that be have the good sense to rename it Saturnalia, for it will have little to do with Christ.
*The picture is from a Christmas card by Sr. Grace Remington, O.C.S.O.
December 18, 2014
Make Believe: Playing the roles Jesus gave us
With my kids I can follow along well when told to pretend to be a tiger, lava dragon, or a power ranger. I can act the patient for our resident doctors who care for me with toy tools and pretend medicine. In our basement I have tasted plenty of gourmet meals, served right to my chair. Imagination runs rampant in our house. But, when compared with the rest of my family, I’m not too good at coming up with my own imaginative ideas, unless nonsense counts. Nonsensical lyrics and stories are my forté.
Kids use their imagination so well because they learn through it. I could lecture them for twenty minutes about the nativity story, but they will likely learn more if I invite them to participate in that story themselves. For instance, our after-school Bible club met this week and focused on the nativity story from Luke’s Gospel. I played the narrator and brought down some costumes and props for the older elementary school kids to act. After a couple rehearsals we put on our show for the younger kids, who clapped eagerly and well. We then discussed some key parts of the story, and I answered some of the kids’ follow-up questions.
We had some free time after our talk and to my surprise the older kids begged me if they could continue to act out the nativity story on their own. “Sure,” I said. For the next fifteen minutes they continued acting out the story, in their various roles of Mary, Joseph, Innkeeper, Shepherds, and Angels. It is one thing to hear a story, but quite another to become part of it.
I’ve taught enough to know that I often learn from my students almost as much as I teach them. Their eagerness to act out the story reminded me of Jesus’ command to his disciples after he rose from the dead: “Again Jesus said, ‘Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you’” (John 20:21). Jesus makes it clear, especially throughout John’s Gospel, that whoever sees him, hears him, and knows him also sees, hears, and knows God the Father who sent him. Keeping in mind John’s emphasis, look back at that quote again. Consider the parallel Jesus gives in his command: just as God the Father sent Jesus, Jesus sends us. When people see us, hear us, and know us, they see, hear, and know Jesus who sent us.
As Christ’s body, the church, it is not enough for us to gather and passively hear about God’s story of creation, rebellion, redemption, and new creation told to us. Rather, we take on the necessary costumes, gather up our props, and act out that same story in our own neighborhoods, both near and far.
The kids this week challenged me with how I spend my own “free time.” I thought they would choose to play hide and seek, tag, draw a picture, or just run around. They often choose to do those things during free time. But isn’t it better to act out God’s great story? Yes it is. I wonder when us big people in the church will figure that out. We’d probably learn something too.
Kids use their imagination so well because they learn through it. I could lecture them for twenty minutes about the nativity story, but they will likely learn more if I invite them to participate in that story themselves. For instance, our after-school Bible club met this week and focused on the nativity story from Luke’s Gospel. I played the narrator and brought down some costumes and props for the older elementary school kids to act. After a couple rehearsals we put on our show for the younger kids, who clapped eagerly and well. We then discussed some key parts of the story, and I answered some of the kids’ follow-up questions.
We had some free time after our talk and to my surprise the older kids begged me if they could continue to act out the nativity story on their own. “Sure,” I said. For the next fifteen minutes they continued acting out the story, in their various roles of Mary, Joseph, Innkeeper, Shepherds, and Angels. It is one thing to hear a story, but quite another to become part of it.
I’ve taught enough to know that I often learn from my students almost as much as I teach them. Their eagerness to act out the story reminded me of Jesus’ command to his disciples after he rose from the dead: “Again Jesus said, ‘Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you’” (John 20:21). Jesus makes it clear, especially throughout John’s Gospel, that whoever sees him, hears him, and knows him also sees, hears, and knows God the Father who sent him. Keeping in mind John’s emphasis, look back at that quote again. Consider the parallel Jesus gives in his command: just as God the Father sent Jesus, Jesus sends us. When people see us, hear us, and know us, they see, hear, and know Jesus who sent us.
As Christ’s body, the church, it is not enough for us to gather and passively hear about God’s story of creation, rebellion, redemption, and new creation told to us. Rather, we take on the necessary costumes, gather up our props, and act out that same story in our own neighborhoods, both near and far.
The kids this week challenged me with how I spend my own “free time.” I thought they would choose to play hide and seek, tag, draw a picture, or just run around. They often choose to do those things during free time. But isn’t it better to act out God’s great story? Yes it is. I wonder when us big people in the church will figure that out. We’d probably learn something too.
December 11, 2014
On Christmas Music: The best of the best and some of the rest
My parents did not have an extensive LP collection, at least not when I was growing up in the 1980s. I don't know if they discarded most albums or what once they had kids around, but roughly 90% of their remaining albums were Christmas ones. We're talking old school albums, including Bing Crosby, Andy Williams x3, Perry Como, Gomer Pyle Jim Nabors, and the Hollywood Symphony Orchestra, to name a few. My Dad spent days transferring all of his Christmas albums onto a giant tape reel that could play continuous Christmas music for 16 hours. That reel was the soundtrack of my childhood Decembers. That, and some Christmas cassettes I owned, my favorite one being the chipmunks.
I say all of this because I love Christmas music, but not all Christmas music is created equal. Here is my guide for the perplexed. I'll break it down by category:Christmas music about Jesus: Best songs you can actually sing:1. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing - One of Charles Wesley's best contributions. Two lines stand out to me: "Pleased as man with men to dwell" and "Born to raise the Sons of earth, born to give them second birth." It doesn't get much better than singing this in worship.
Even the Peanuts gang can handle it:
2. O Come, O Come, Emmanuel - This hymn has a long history, although no one knows for sure how old it is. The Latin lyrics date back to at least the late 17th century and the music dates back at least to 15th-century France. The themes of this song focus on Christ fulfilling God's promises to his people with the combination of waiting in lonely exile and then rejoicing that Christ has come. As a bonus if you have men sing this song in a deep voice acapella style, you might be moved more than any other song on listed.
Here are the words too, if you need them:
3. Silent Night - This song dates back to early 19th-century Austria and is a favorite for any vespers or night-time church service. It is a peaceful song with peaceful words. Chances are Mary and Joseph did not have a silent night for many weeks and months after Jesus was born.
For whatever reason it seems fitting when children sing this one:
4. I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day - Originally a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, written during the heat of the Civil War in America. Longfellow's wife died in a fire around the same time their oldest son was injured severely at war. Out of pain and anguish, Longfellow put to words the sadness and hope in a way that can only be told well in verse. Thankfully, not long after the poem was published someone put it to music. Please never sing this song as a congregation without singing all the verses (the same goes for artists who record incomplete versions of it, shame on them).
Here's a nice rendition:
Honorable Mention: Joy to the World - A great hymn from Isaac Watts with lyrics inspired from the Psalms, but it never was intended to be a Christmas song, considering it is about Jesus' return. Best songs you probably cannot sing:1. Messiah - music composed by George Frideric Handel in the mid-18th century. The lyrics are mostly from the King James Version of the Bible and the Psalter found in the Book of Common Prayer during that time along with some additions by Charles Jennens. The lyrics came first and the tradition goes, as my Dad loved to share, that Handel composed the music in a mere 24 days' time. Today, there seems to be two familiar pieces from the lengthy oratorio:
For unto us a child is born:
The hallelujah chorus:
2. O Holy Night - The words were originally a French poem from the early 19th century, and they were put to music a few decades later. If you've ever paid attention to all the words, the full gospel is here, and I love the phrase "the soul felt its worth." As a kid, the version I remember most fondly is an instrumental one by the Holly Symphony Orchestra.
When done well, it is a beautiful song:
3. Mary Did You Know? - It is always a surprise to know that Christian comedian Mark Lowry was a co-writer of this song along with Buddy Greene. I always appreciate the themes in the words, and the music is fitting. Showing its rising popularity is the fact that artists like Cee Lo Green even cover it, for whatever that's worth.
Here is a non-Cee Lo version:
Honorable mentions: Angels We Have Heard on High (Unfortunately, some worship pastors put this song in the wrong category as it is thoroughly unsingable), Carol of the Bells, and The Holly and the Ivy.Worst songs, whether you can sing along to them or not:1. Little Drummer Boy - I just can't stand this song. The only version of it even semi-listenable (or watchable) is when producers somehow got Bing Crosby and David Bowie together for a rendition of it. As a bonus they even convinced Bing to pretend he liked Bowie's music, although he falls short of saying he celebrates Bowie's entire catalog.
2. Away in a Manger - I find some of the lyrics annoying, including Jesus not crying as a baby (hardly true), and the odd phrase at the end that either means little kids want to die or at best they have been taught bad eschatology. "Christmas" music that's not about Jesus:The Best:1. White Christmas: A great contribution by Irving Berlin, and the Bing Crosby version is the best one. It doesn't hurt that the movie is pretty good too:
2. The Christmas Song (Merry Christmas to You) - Mel Torme had a hand in this song, and it has some famous versions, including Nat King Cole and Johnny Mathis.
For Mathis lovers, this video has his style:
3. All I Want for Christmas Is You - This song was made famous by Mariah Carey.
You can even use whatever is laying around the classroom to pull it off (it always helps if Carey herself happens to be nearby):
4. Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Phil Spector and Darlene Love present this classic:
5a. Run Run Rudolph - Chuck Berry:
5b. Little Saint Nick - Ah, yes the Beach Boys
Honorable Mentions: A Mad Russian's Christmas by Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (Garland or Sinatra), and The Christmas Waltz (more Sinatra).Two songs no one knows, but should1. Get Behind Me, Santa! - Few people have heard of Sufjan Stevens and even fewer have his Songs for Christmas albums. Besides having a great title, it's a fun song (I'm glad these people don't live by me):
2. I Wish It Was Christmas Today. Good luck getting this melody out of your head any time soon:
Songs everyone knows, but shouldn't (the worst):1. The Christmas Shoes - Now a made-for-television movie! This is as much a Christmas song as Die Hard 1 and 2 are Christmas movies.
2. My Grown Up Christmas List - Well, maybe if you really grew up you would direct these thoughts to someone other than Santa Claus, such as--oh, I don't know--maybe, Jesus?
3. Feliz Navidad - The writers of this song later got a longstanding gig on Dora the Explorer, writing standards that include "I'm the map" and "Backpack."
4. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - Not a children's song, not a grown-up song, not a good song.
5. Silver Bells - I've never lived in a place with silver bells, but I guess the songwriter did. I never got this song growing up. I still don't get it today. I always just want it to be over, so the next tune can play. (Almost persuadest me to like this song, Sweeney Sisters).
Well, that's all from me. How about you?
I say all of this because I love Christmas music, but not all Christmas music is created equal. Here is my guide for the perplexed. I'll break it down by category:Christmas music about Jesus: Best songs you can actually sing:1. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing - One of Charles Wesley's best contributions. Two lines stand out to me: "Pleased as man with men to dwell" and "Born to raise the Sons of earth, born to give them second birth." It doesn't get much better than singing this in worship.
Even the Peanuts gang can handle it:
2. O Come, O Come, Emmanuel - This hymn has a long history, although no one knows for sure how old it is. The Latin lyrics date back to at least the late 17th century and the music dates back at least to 15th-century France. The themes of this song focus on Christ fulfilling God's promises to his people with the combination of waiting in lonely exile and then rejoicing that Christ has come. As a bonus if you have men sing this song in a deep voice acapella style, you might be moved more than any other song on listed.
Here are the words too, if you need them:
3. Silent Night - This song dates back to early 19th-century Austria and is a favorite for any vespers or night-time church service. It is a peaceful song with peaceful words. Chances are Mary and Joseph did not have a silent night for many weeks and months after Jesus was born.
For whatever reason it seems fitting when children sing this one:
4. I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day - Originally a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, written during the heat of the Civil War in America. Longfellow's wife died in a fire around the same time their oldest son was injured severely at war. Out of pain and anguish, Longfellow put to words the sadness and hope in a way that can only be told well in verse. Thankfully, not long after the poem was published someone put it to music. Please never sing this song as a congregation without singing all the verses (the same goes for artists who record incomplete versions of it, shame on them).
Here's a nice rendition:
Honorable Mention: Joy to the World - A great hymn from Isaac Watts with lyrics inspired from the Psalms, but it never was intended to be a Christmas song, considering it is about Jesus' return. Best songs you probably cannot sing:1. Messiah - music composed by George Frideric Handel in the mid-18th century. The lyrics are mostly from the King James Version of the Bible and the Psalter found in the Book of Common Prayer during that time along with some additions by Charles Jennens. The lyrics came first and the tradition goes, as my Dad loved to share, that Handel composed the music in a mere 24 days' time. Today, there seems to be two familiar pieces from the lengthy oratorio:
For unto us a child is born:
The hallelujah chorus:
2. O Holy Night - The words were originally a French poem from the early 19th century, and they were put to music a few decades later. If you've ever paid attention to all the words, the full gospel is here, and I love the phrase "the soul felt its worth." As a kid, the version I remember most fondly is an instrumental one by the Holly Symphony Orchestra.
When done well, it is a beautiful song:
3. Mary Did You Know? - It is always a surprise to know that Christian comedian Mark Lowry was a co-writer of this song along with Buddy Greene. I always appreciate the themes in the words, and the music is fitting. Showing its rising popularity is the fact that artists like Cee Lo Green even cover it, for whatever that's worth.
Here is a non-Cee Lo version:
Honorable mentions: Angels We Have Heard on High (Unfortunately, some worship pastors put this song in the wrong category as it is thoroughly unsingable), Carol of the Bells, and The Holly and the Ivy.Worst songs, whether you can sing along to them or not:1. Little Drummer Boy - I just can't stand this song. The only version of it even semi-listenable (or watchable) is when producers somehow got Bing Crosby and David Bowie together for a rendition of it. As a bonus they even convinced Bing to pretend he liked Bowie's music, although he falls short of saying he celebrates Bowie's entire catalog.
2. Away in a Manger - I find some of the lyrics annoying, including Jesus not crying as a baby (hardly true), and the odd phrase at the end that either means little kids want to die or at best they have been taught bad eschatology. "Christmas" music that's not about Jesus:The Best:1. White Christmas: A great contribution by Irving Berlin, and the Bing Crosby version is the best one. It doesn't hurt that the movie is pretty good too:
2. The Christmas Song (Merry Christmas to You) - Mel Torme had a hand in this song, and it has some famous versions, including Nat King Cole and Johnny Mathis.
For Mathis lovers, this video has his style:
3. All I Want for Christmas Is You - This song was made famous by Mariah Carey.
You can even use whatever is laying around the classroom to pull it off (it always helps if Carey herself happens to be nearby):
4. Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Phil Spector and Darlene Love present this classic:
5a. Run Run Rudolph - Chuck Berry:
5b. Little Saint Nick - Ah, yes the Beach Boys
Honorable Mentions: A Mad Russian's Christmas by Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (Garland or Sinatra), and The Christmas Waltz (more Sinatra).Two songs no one knows, but should1. Get Behind Me, Santa! - Few people have heard of Sufjan Stevens and even fewer have his Songs for Christmas albums. Besides having a great title, it's a fun song (I'm glad these people don't live by me):
2. I Wish It Was Christmas Today. Good luck getting this melody out of your head any time soon:
Songs everyone knows, but shouldn't (the worst):1. The Christmas Shoes - Now a made-for-television movie! This is as much a Christmas song as Die Hard 1 and 2 are Christmas movies.
2. My Grown Up Christmas List - Well, maybe if you really grew up you would direct these thoughts to someone other than Santa Claus, such as--oh, I don't know--maybe, Jesus?
3. Feliz Navidad - The writers of this song later got a longstanding gig on Dora the Explorer, writing standards that include "I'm the map" and "Backpack."
4. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - Not a children's song, not a grown-up song, not a good song.
5. Silver Bells - I've never lived in a place with silver bells, but I guess the songwriter did. I never got this song growing up. I still don't get it today. I always just want it to be over, so the next tune can play. (Almost persuadest me to like this song, Sweeney Sisters).
Well, that's all from me. How about you?
December 4, 2014
Orphan No More: Introducing the late Alton, the oldest person I've baptized
I answered the phone and the voice on the other end was unfamiliar. He asked if I was the pastor, and then he asked if he could come by to see me in a few minutes. He happened to be in the area. Not too many minutes later an older man parked his pickup truck on the street and came to my door. I had never met him before, but as is the custom in our small towns, he quickly introduced himself. Harvey is his name. He told me about all the people he knows that I should know too. He then asked about some people he thought I would know. I go through this routine often as the pastor of a rural church, so I know how to play the game well.
After our small talk Harvey appeared a little nervous. He had a request of me, and I could tell it troubled him. It took him a while to get to it, but in so many words he was visiting on behalf of a friend of his. Years ago they lived under the same roof as he was growing up. His friend, Alton, was orphaned as a teenager. His grandparents were members of our church years ago, so Alton, now suffering from terminal cancer, thought our church would make a fitting host for his funeral service with the pastor officiating.
I thought to myself that none of these requests should make anyone nervous. I told Harvey that our church is quite hospitable when it comes to funerals, and I always counted that to be one of our strengths. Harvey stopped me and revealed what he thought was a problem. Alton lived a rough life. He struggled with alcohol abuse. He was not religious in any measurable way. Harvey was a bit perplexed about people using a church building after death when they did not make much use of it during their lifetime.
I told Harvey I understood his concern, because I knew he meant well. I then asked him what he understood about Alton’s faith. The talkative man in my living room was now quiet. After a pause in the conversation, he looked at me and said he did not know. I told him we better find out, so I told him to ask Alton if it would be okay for me to visit him soon. We talked about logistics for the funeral service and agreed to speak again once he approached Alton with my request.
Later that day my phone rang again, and I learned we were a go for our meeting. It turns out I kind of knew Alton. Older men in our town drive around incessantly, and I recognized Alton as the driver of an old Ford Taurus. He had been a resident of our town’s assisted living facility for some months, so I had seen him there from time to time, although I do not think we ever had a proper introduction.
I knocked on Alton’s door at the home and introduced myself as the pastor. He was expecting my visit and offered me a seat by his bed. His belongings were few. He had some clothes and personal items. On the wall by his bed were a few picture frames. One had his birth certificate with a photo of himself from years ago taped onto it. Another had a clipping about his parents from a genealogy book. They were both born in Russia and immigrated to the Dakotas about a hundred years ago. They also both died young after bearing two children together, one of whom died as a little girl. The last picture frame had a standard portrait of Alton wearing his military service uniform.
I introduced myself and looked him over. The young man from the pictures was barely recognizable as the man presently before me was so thin. His eyes had sunk in some, and he labored to breathe. He could hear just fine, and his mind seemed sharp. I asked first about his physical condition. He knew he was dying and it was only a matter of time before he would. I then asked about his spiritual condition. Tears welled up in his eyes and he said he didn’t know. He said he was tired of being alone. He missed his parents.
I asked him if I could read something from the Bible. I turned to Acts 2 and shared Peter’s message. I like to share this text with people because it has everything in it: the gospel, an audience of people who had rejected Christ, and an invitation to respond. I told Alton that the same message applies to him and to me. Jesus is Lord, and God has promised forgiveness of sins when we repent and believe in his name. I asked him if he knew what repentance would be like for him. He told me about his time in Sunday school at our church, holding class way up in the attic above the baptistery. He said he had heard about Jesus before, but he just never trusted in him. I told him it is never too late. I told him that I would be happy to give an example of what repentance, confession, and belief looks like. I then prayed aloud for him to hear. As he cried, he prayed after me. It was a simple prayer. It was a good prayer. Best of all it was a sincere prayer.
For the first time in my presence Alton smiled. He talked about being with his family again after all this time apart. I told him that when the people heard and responded to Peter’s message, Peter said that they should be baptized. I explained that baptism was God’s way of confirming his adoption of someone new into his family and likewise Alton’s way of expressing his newfound faith to both God and others. He said he would like to be baptized. I asked him if it would be okay for me to invite our church to join him. He asked if I thought people would come. I assured him that they would.
I could tell our time together had made Alton exhausted, so I told him I would let him get some rest. Before leaving, though, I asked him if he had any questions for me. He said he had one, but it probably wasn’t for me. He said, “do you think God will hold it against me? All I’ve done?” I told him I’d be happy to answer that. I told him that we use the word forgiveness a lot without appreciating what it really means. When God forgives he takes on the responsibility for our actions. We don’t deserve that. It makes no sense. But love and grace are never about what is deserved or what makes good sense. I told Alton that God has clothed him Christ, and there is no condemnation now for him.
In the days that followed we setup Alton’s baptism. I invited our church, worked with the staff at the facility, and most importantly checked in with Alton a few times to go over everything and made sure he had no concerns. When the day came Alton was nervous, and he still wondered if people would come. Our baptism was a little irregular that Sunday afternoon. We were not in a lake or river. We were not even in an indoor baptistery, and his body was too frail to be immersed. Instead, we gathered in a bathing room that housed a large bathtub for the residents of the home. The staff wheeled Alton to the tub and he was able to get in it himself. They prepared a pitcher of warm water for me. Several of our church members as well as other of Alton’s friends and neighbors packed into that little room. I went through the creed with Alton. At every chance he spoke more loudly than I had heard before, “Yes, I believe.” And then the time came for me to baptize him, covering his body from head to toe in the water that symbolizes new life.
After he was dried off and placed back in his room I stopped by to see him and make sure everything went okay. He cried and said he was overwhelmed. He did not know he had so many friends. I told him that God has a big family, and in God’s family there are no orphans.
That was the last time he really spoke to me. A little over a week later, after I returned from a trip out of town, I saw him again. His body was even smaller than before. His eyes were jaundiced. He could hardly speak, and what he did say made little sense. He was dying. And he knew it. But he wasn’t alone. Dear friends and neighbors of his stayed at his side, and he passed later that same day.
His memorial service was earlier this week. I did not know Alton well, but I told him on his deathbed that I would never forget him. As a pastor I share the gospel often, and Alton was a great reminder that it really is good news. At Alton’s memorial service one passage stood out to me as a fitting one to share with those gathered: “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you” (John 14:18). Jesus speaks these words about coming to his followers through the Holy Spirit. The word Jesus uses to describe the Spirit is “advocate,” or literally one who comes alongside someone else. When infants would cry, their “advocate” would come alongside them to nurture them. I do not know much about orphans, but I imagine many of them cry and cry and cry as infants with no one to come alongside them. But Jesus promises he will not leave his people as orphans, he will come to them.
It may have taken a little more than 78 years, but Jesus finally came to Alton. He is an orphan no more.
After our small talk Harvey appeared a little nervous. He had a request of me, and I could tell it troubled him. It took him a while to get to it, but in so many words he was visiting on behalf of a friend of his. Years ago they lived under the same roof as he was growing up. His friend, Alton, was orphaned as a teenager. His grandparents were members of our church years ago, so Alton, now suffering from terminal cancer, thought our church would make a fitting host for his funeral service with the pastor officiating.
I thought to myself that none of these requests should make anyone nervous. I told Harvey that our church is quite hospitable when it comes to funerals, and I always counted that to be one of our strengths. Harvey stopped me and revealed what he thought was a problem. Alton lived a rough life. He struggled with alcohol abuse. He was not religious in any measurable way. Harvey was a bit perplexed about people using a church building after death when they did not make much use of it during their lifetime.
I told Harvey I understood his concern, because I knew he meant well. I then asked him what he understood about Alton’s faith. The talkative man in my living room was now quiet. After a pause in the conversation, he looked at me and said he did not know. I told him we better find out, so I told him to ask Alton if it would be okay for me to visit him soon. We talked about logistics for the funeral service and agreed to speak again once he approached Alton with my request.
Later that day my phone rang again, and I learned we were a go for our meeting. It turns out I kind of knew Alton. Older men in our town drive around incessantly, and I recognized Alton as the driver of an old Ford Taurus. He had been a resident of our town’s assisted living facility for some months, so I had seen him there from time to time, although I do not think we ever had a proper introduction.
I knocked on Alton’s door at the home and introduced myself as the pastor. He was expecting my visit and offered me a seat by his bed. His belongings were few. He had some clothes and personal items. On the wall by his bed were a few picture frames. One had his birth certificate with a photo of himself from years ago taped onto it. Another had a clipping about his parents from a genealogy book. They were both born in Russia and immigrated to the Dakotas about a hundred years ago. They also both died young after bearing two children together, one of whom died as a little girl. The last picture frame had a standard portrait of Alton wearing his military service uniform.
I introduced myself and looked him over. The young man from the pictures was barely recognizable as the man presently before me was so thin. His eyes had sunk in some, and he labored to breathe. He could hear just fine, and his mind seemed sharp. I asked first about his physical condition. He knew he was dying and it was only a matter of time before he would. I then asked about his spiritual condition. Tears welled up in his eyes and he said he didn’t know. He said he was tired of being alone. He missed his parents.
I asked him if I could read something from the Bible. I turned to Acts 2 and shared Peter’s message. I like to share this text with people because it has everything in it: the gospel, an audience of people who had rejected Christ, and an invitation to respond. I told Alton that the same message applies to him and to me. Jesus is Lord, and God has promised forgiveness of sins when we repent and believe in his name. I asked him if he knew what repentance would be like for him. He told me about his time in Sunday school at our church, holding class way up in the attic above the baptistery. He said he had heard about Jesus before, but he just never trusted in him. I told him it is never too late. I told him that I would be happy to give an example of what repentance, confession, and belief looks like. I then prayed aloud for him to hear. As he cried, he prayed after me. It was a simple prayer. It was a good prayer. Best of all it was a sincere prayer.
For the first time in my presence Alton smiled. He talked about being with his family again after all this time apart. I told him that when the people heard and responded to Peter’s message, Peter said that they should be baptized. I explained that baptism was God’s way of confirming his adoption of someone new into his family and likewise Alton’s way of expressing his newfound faith to both God and others. He said he would like to be baptized. I asked him if it would be okay for me to invite our church to join him. He asked if I thought people would come. I assured him that they would.
I could tell our time together had made Alton exhausted, so I told him I would let him get some rest. Before leaving, though, I asked him if he had any questions for me. He said he had one, but it probably wasn’t for me. He said, “do you think God will hold it against me? All I’ve done?” I told him I’d be happy to answer that. I told him that we use the word forgiveness a lot without appreciating what it really means. When God forgives he takes on the responsibility for our actions. We don’t deserve that. It makes no sense. But love and grace are never about what is deserved or what makes good sense. I told Alton that God has clothed him Christ, and there is no condemnation now for him.
In the days that followed we setup Alton’s baptism. I invited our church, worked with the staff at the facility, and most importantly checked in with Alton a few times to go over everything and made sure he had no concerns. When the day came Alton was nervous, and he still wondered if people would come. Our baptism was a little irregular that Sunday afternoon. We were not in a lake or river. We were not even in an indoor baptistery, and his body was too frail to be immersed. Instead, we gathered in a bathing room that housed a large bathtub for the residents of the home. The staff wheeled Alton to the tub and he was able to get in it himself. They prepared a pitcher of warm water for me. Several of our church members as well as other of Alton’s friends and neighbors packed into that little room. I went through the creed with Alton. At every chance he spoke more loudly than I had heard before, “Yes, I believe.” And then the time came for me to baptize him, covering his body from head to toe in the water that symbolizes new life.
After he was dried off and placed back in his room I stopped by to see him and make sure everything went okay. He cried and said he was overwhelmed. He did not know he had so many friends. I told him that God has a big family, and in God’s family there are no orphans.
That was the last time he really spoke to me. A little over a week later, after I returned from a trip out of town, I saw him again. His body was even smaller than before. His eyes were jaundiced. He could hardly speak, and what he did say made little sense. He was dying. And he knew it. But he wasn’t alone. Dear friends and neighbors of his stayed at his side, and he passed later that same day.
His memorial service was earlier this week. I did not know Alton well, but I told him on his deathbed that I would never forget him. As a pastor I share the gospel often, and Alton was a great reminder that it really is good news. At Alton’s memorial service one passage stood out to me as a fitting one to share with those gathered: “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you” (John 14:18). Jesus speaks these words about coming to his followers through the Holy Spirit. The word Jesus uses to describe the Spirit is “advocate,” or literally one who comes alongside someone else. When infants would cry, their “advocate” would come alongside them to nurture them. I do not know much about orphans, but I imagine many of them cry and cry and cry as infants with no one to come alongside them. But Jesus promises he will not leave his people as orphans, he will come to them.
It may have taken a little more than 78 years, but Jesus finally came to Alton. He is an orphan no more.
November 26, 2014
A Person after God’s Own Heart
“After removing Saul, he [God] made David their king. God testified concerning him: ‘I have found David son of Jesse, a man after my own heart; he will do everything I want him to do’” – Acts 13:22
I want God to testify about me that I am a person after his own heart. Who wouldn’t? But after reading about the accounts of David’s life and his own contributions to the Psalms, I find it difficult to discern exactly what made David’s heart like God’s own.
David was not perfect. He was guilty of high crimes, including adultery and murder. He acted out of anger often. Even his own children betrayed him and in turn he betrayed some of his most loyal subjects. He disobeyed God’s commands, both great and small, numerous times. David’s actions remind me of a song that says, “there is no greater evil than the darkness in your heart.”
Sin is only half of David’s story. The other half, and the part that God testifies to above, is that David knew he was God’s child. Although he was a king, he was humble. Sometimes he exploited his power, but he always knew he was subject to God Almighty. He sinned greatly, but he also confessed passionately. Sometimes he had to be confronted first, but he owned up to his sins and turned to God for forgiveness. He knew God would forgive him too, despite the rotten things he had done.
David was also a worshiper. Part of that could be because he was musically inclined. He wrote songs, he played instruments, and he knew how to dance well. He relished in celebrating God’s goodness. He also realized that worship ought to be costly, refusing to give God what cost him nothing. While there are joyous and celebratory aspects of his worship, David was also familiar with lament. He mourned over brokenness, despair, and death. He cried out to God in grief. He wept tears of sorrow. All proper worship must include each of these elements as long as we live in exile in a fallen world, waiting for God to return to set things aright.
David was generous. His personality reveals that he was generous in many ways, sometimes to a fault. He was generous with love. Generous with laughter. Generous with finances. Generous with prayers. God used David’s generosity to help many people.
David was humble. This may get to the essence of what it means to be a person after God’s own heart. If God never revealed to us that he was humble, how else would we know? It makes no sense for God to be humble. God craves worship, praise, and gifts. God desperately fights for credit when his people are so clueless as to give it to him. But yet God distances himself from the powerful and rich in this world and takes on the poor, the oppressed, the widow, and the orphan. When God became human in Jesus, he purposely sought out the least and lifted them up for the glory of God. The movers and shakers of this world do not recognize such glory, because they only want their own. David knew to give God glory for blessings. David knew that God’s name was the only name that counted, not his own. David worked toward building up God’s reputation, sometimes at the risk of tarnishing his own.
It is in these ways that David points us to Jesus Christ. Unlike David, Jesus faced temptation without ever sinning. But, like David, Jesus was a worshiper, was generous, and was humble.
As Advent dawns next week, may we pray that God will testify about us that we are people after his own heart. David gives us a good place to start, and I know that I need to start with repentance. How about you?
I want God to testify about me that I am a person after his own heart. Who wouldn’t? But after reading about the accounts of David’s life and his own contributions to the Psalms, I find it difficult to discern exactly what made David’s heart like God’s own.
David was not perfect. He was guilty of high crimes, including adultery and murder. He acted out of anger often. Even his own children betrayed him and in turn he betrayed some of his most loyal subjects. He disobeyed God’s commands, both great and small, numerous times. David’s actions remind me of a song that says, “there is no greater evil than the darkness in your heart.”
Sin is only half of David’s story. The other half, and the part that God testifies to above, is that David knew he was God’s child. Although he was a king, he was humble. Sometimes he exploited his power, but he always knew he was subject to God Almighty. He sinned greatly, but he also confessed passionately. Sometimes he had to be confronted first, but he owned up to his sins and turned to God for forgiveness. He knew God would forgive him too, despite the rotten things he had done.
David was also a worshiper. Part of that could be because he was musically inclined. He wrote songs, he played instruments, and he knew how to dance well. He relished in celebrating God’s goodness. He also realized that worship ought to be costly, refusing to give God what cost him nothing. While there are joyous and celebratory aspects of his worship, David was also familiar with lament. He mourned over brokenness, despair, and death. He cried out to God in grief. He wept tears of sorrow. All proper worship must include each of these elements as long as we live in exile in a fallen world, waiting for God to return to set things aright.
David was generous. His personality reveals that he was generous in many ways, sometimes to a fault. He was generous with love. Generous with laughter. Generous with finances. Generous with prayers. God used David’s generosity to help many people.
David was humble. This may get to the essence of what it means to be a person after God’s own heart. If God never revealed to us that he was humble, how else would we know? It makes no sense for God to be humble. God craves worship, praise, and gifts. God desperately fights for credit when his people are so clueless as to give it to him. But yet God distances himself from the powerful and rich in this world and takes on the poor, the oppressed, the widow, and the orphan. When God became human in Jesus, he purposely sought out the least and lifted them up for the glory of God. The movers and shakers of this world do not recognize such glory, because they only want their own. David knew to give God glory for blessings. David knew that God’s name was the only name that counted, not his own. David worked toward building up God’s reputation, sometimes at the risk of tarnishing his own.
It is in these ways that David points us to Jesus Christ. Unlike David, Jesus faced temptation without ever sinning. But, like David, Jesus was a worshiper, was generous, and was humble.
As Advent dawns next week, may we pray that God will testify about us that we are people after his own heart. David gives us a good place to start, and I know that I need to start with repentance. How about you?
