This is better than you realize

This week a friend and I are writing Psalm 23 as though it were written from the Lord to us (which of course it is, but we are switching the vantage point). This is for the sake of deeper meditation and deeper personalization--to plumb more deeply what is being said and that it is being said to us.

After a few miscues with my erratic fountain pen, I was able to pen my version.

Because of the familiarity of this Psalm, I won't enter it here. You can click on the link above and it will magically open in a new window using technology, electricity and the "world wide web". 

Enjoy!

When Do We Get Smaller?

I was listening to a wonderful episode of This American Life called Kid Logic (you should listen to it). It featured a number of stories about the unusual conclusions kids come to as they seek to make sense of life. 

For example, a little girl gets on an airplane and sits next to an older lady. The plane accelerates and begins to lift off, and the girl looks at the woman and asks, "When do we get smaller?"

She'd seen enormous planes shrink into specks as they flew away. The only explanation was that they (and all those in them) became infinitesimal. I remembered an especially infuriating conversation with my daughter on this exact subject when she insisted that the plans flying over our house were teeny. 

This whole episode made me think of the adage, 

"Kids are amazing observers and terrible interpreters." 

The incredible thing is that some of our childish conclusions follow us stubbornly and subconsciously into adulthood.

This is what psychiatrist M. Scott Peck describes as transference ("The Outdated Map"):

Transference is that set of ways of perceiving and responding to the world which is developed in childhood and which is usually entirely appropriate to the childhood environment (indeed, often life-saving) but which is inappropriately transferred into the adult environment. (The Road Less Traveled) 

I thought about this, and came up with 5 myth/reality couplings to help us distinguish between what is real and the muddled impressionistic holdovers from our childhood. Hope they shed light for you.

"Do not be afraid..." pt. 1 | A Christmas Post

The Angel Gabriel announces to Zechariah the birth of his son.

One time I was kayaking off the coast of North Carolina with my cousin. Suddenly, to the left front of our boat, something huge breached the surface of the water.

My cousin and I sat there speechless for about 10 seconds before one of us gasped, "Did you see that?"

We had happened into a school of dolphins. Every few minutes one would emerge, its back lolling up out of the water just past the breakers. It was a captivating treat.

But I'll really never forget the uneasiness I felt the initial emergence from the deep. I knew there were big things "out there", but now one such thing was right in front of me.

I can't help but feel like this was a taste of what those who encountered angels in Scripture experience. After all, the first thing the angel always says is, "Do not be afraid."

This stood out as I was reading through the nativity accounts over the past few days. There is a pattern.

I thought I might write a few (2 or 3) reflections on these instances.

It was the middle of the day during Zechariah's shift burning incense in what was probably the Most Holy Place of the temple when he had his encounter. (Luke 1:8-25)

An angel appeared, and Zechariah was "troubled"--he was agitated, uncertain. Evidently he was dumbfounded too, because the angel finally assured him:

"Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard..."

Two things stand out about this statement:

1. The angel knew Zechariah's name, and used it.
2. The angel knew Zechariah's circumstances, and addressed them.

Advent is, after all, the introduction of the Gospel (the good news), and this news must address us and our fears in personal ways. It is a message of assurance.

The angel knew that Zechariah must be afraid, or at least uncertain. Shouldn't we all in the Presence of God or one of his Messengers (the true translation of angel). Is there a way to definitively quiet such fears? The Gospel says, "yes!" and the advent would begin to address the question of "how?"

The Gospel is a message about who God is and what He did. The advent is the beginning glimpse--in the end you will have no need for fear, of this I assure you.

Not only that, but we are told, "your prayer has been heard."

In Zechariah's case, it was the barrenness of his wife Elizabeth. "Your prayer has been heard and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John."

I would argue that each of us spend most of our days in prayer: they are silent yearnings and hopes that may never even find verbal expression. They are the opposite sides of our fears, and they are always present. The Gospel addresses both our fears ("do not be afraid") and our hopes ("your prayer has been heard").

After hearing "Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John." Zechariah might have thought that was it, but it wasn't.

"And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great before the Lord. And he must not drink wine or strong drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother's womb. And he will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready for the Lord a people prepared." (vv. 14-17)

 As it turns out, God had heard every ache, every groan, every hope, every longing. Yes He had heard the cry for a son, but He had also heard the cry for a Savior. And Zechariah's son John would be instrumental in his coming.

All our hopes and fears can be traced back to the fundamental, searching question: is God for me? This is really all that matters, and the Gospel emphatically answers yes.

Ask yourself, What are my fears? What are my prayers? Where do they find their root?

Hear from the angel Gabriel, "Do not be afraid, your prayer has been heard." Look back at the Gospel story in its entirety for assurance, and look forward with hope and joy! Enter into the journey of those to whom this message was first announced this advent as a way of sparking reflection and meditation.

Zechariah ended up being struck mute for his unbelief regarding this message, but is it any wonder that when his tongue was loosed he broke out into a song declaring:

"Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people  and has raised up a horn of salvation for us......that we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all our days." (vv. 68-79)

St. Patrick & the Power of Forgiveness

"I, Patrick, a sinner..."

Thus begins The Confession of St. Patrick; a story that illustrates the cosmic power of forgiveness.

Patrick wasn't Irish. He was a Welsh-Briton, who, as a "young man, almost a beardless boy ... was taken captive" by Irish raiders and sold into slavery on the harsh, barbaric Irish isle. He was only 16. This took place somewhere in the middle of the 5th century, as the Roman empire suffered its rapid decline and the so-called Dark Ages began.

For 6 years he worked against his will in Ireland before making his escape.

Through many tribulations, he made his way back home, and then did the unthinkable. He returned to Ireland! Why?

The Profit of the Prophet

Since I follow Tim Challies on Twitter sometimes I drift into the things he is reading. Last week I was somewhat intrigued to see that one of his A La Carte topics was on the "5 Dangers of Fallible Prophecy" (posted on TheCripplegate.com). I took the bait.


I was heartened to discover that, as a budding continuationist, I am in pretty good company: Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones (who, from this point, I will refer to as "the doctor"), Wayne Grudem, John Piper and DA Carson (just to name a few). 


Some of you may have read the postings from my Scriptural exploration of this topic last summer. These mostly stemmed from a growing awareness on my part to the space this topic is given in Scripture, not from exposure to Christian writings or debates.


Anyhow, I made a little stink in the comment section of this committed cessationist cohort of bloggers. So much so that one of their contributors created an entirely new post to answer my objections. (If you read through the comments of the first post and compare them with the second, you'll see he is ostensibly continuing our conversation--something I invited him to do in the comment's section.)


In supporting a continuationist view on this post, I must confess that I felt a little like a voice in the wilderness! The cessionationist perspective on gifts like prophecy is that they ceased after the foundation of the church. This steps from their interpretations of Ephesians 2:20 and 1 Corinthians 13:8-10.


The argument is that the church was "built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets" and that now these roles/gifts are not needed. They argue that when Paul wrote the following words, he was describing the establishment of the church (not the second coming of Jesus):

"Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.  For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away." (1 Cor. 13:8-10)

In truth--though we don't agree--they argue from a plausible perspective. However, I do think that their cessationist lens precludes them from doing a more thorough inquiry into the topic.


Here's what I mean.

The Only Postmodern Apologetic

How are Christian apologetics like a Rube Goldberg machine? Everyone is just waiting to see if it "works". 


We live in a Postmodern age; rife with relativism and the rejection of claims of absolute truth. There's a big back story stemming from the Enlightenment and a backlash against Modernism. But suffice it to say that Postmodernism is characterized by deep skepticism toward absolute authority and truth--even based in solid reasoning. Claims to such authority or objectivity are seen through the lens of power struggle. 


We see this in our current political climate, where each side marshals out their "facts and figures". Most people know that these have been hand-picked to support their perspective, and to secure power. We see this in the Scientific community as more and more researchers are exposed for falsifying their research in order to gain grant money or prestige. 


People are jaded for a reason. It leads to pandemic skepticism and cynicism. This is our culture!


Many (most?) apologetic camps are loath to accept this. They still attack the problem as though brute reason and argumentation can win the day. (The exception may be the Presuppositional Camp.) In the end, they find themselves licking their wounds and bemoaning the fact that relativism has rendered their arsenal harmless. Rather than accept the reality of the current culture they end up pining for a bygone era--or wishing the Postmodernism could just go away so that we could get on with proving Christianity!


Broad brush strokes. I know! But a lot of us have been there.


Just the other day I was decompressing after a Bible discussion where relativism reared its ugly head. Now I'm not saying that such classical apologetics are of no use. People do need to know that their faith has sound philosophical, historical and scientific foundations. Nevertheless, we need to ask, "Is what we're doing 'working.'?"


The irony is that I think Jesus likes Postmodernism; maybe even relativism. 


Here's what I mean.

Management or Ministry: Part 2

Jesus Washing the Feet of His Disciples / Michal Splho

The word minister comes from the latin word ... you guessed it minister, the meaning of which is "servant". It's root word is actually minus or "less".


The international community tends to utilize this term more broadly: prime minister or the ministry of education, etc. Whereas in the US, we've pigeon holed the term in the religious realm.


The term management comes from the root word manus or hand. In other word, one who "manages" is defined by some type of control.


The terms have lost a bit of their original thrust. Even so, their origins represent a fundamental difference between the ideas of ministry and management. To some degree we have probably embraced the essence of one. The question is which.


In my previous post on the subject, I discussed some of the motives behind a managerial outlook on ministry.

"I'm not against learning nor would I deny that some methods are more effective than others. But are our ministries built on methods or consecration? Are we ministers of the gospel or managers with methods? And what outcomes should we really expect from each?"

Here I would like to mention a distinction in the mentality of each.


En route to Jerusalem, John and James approached Jesus with a request. (“Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”) You may know that they asked to be seated at either side of Jesus "in his glory". There is little ambiguity behind their motives: esteem and authority.


In our day, the concept of management is understood in reference to those one is over. When we adopt a management view of ministry, we tend to refer to ourselves in terms of our authority, position and those under us. This is the way we conceive of ourselves and our role.


But what does Jesus say?

"And Jesus called them to him and said to them, 'You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.'” [Mark. 10:42-45]

Jesus recognized the heart behind the brothers' request, and how strong the pull of power and position could be. Do we hunger for such things as status, authority and control? Or is our ultimate posture that of a servant?


The servant views himself in light of those he serves; their needs, their well being. He views his role in reference to the needs of others.


I've come to embrace a saying that goes something like this:

We don't use our people to build the ministry, we use the ministry to build our people.

This is far easier said than done!