Already Behind

Typical to my organized-but-overscheduled life, I’m behind in Systematic Theology. I plan well, I mean well, but life just plain gets in the way. I find some joy and comfort in that; I’ll never have it all mapped out and that’s just the way it ought be. I should preserve a measure of flexibility and perspective to counterbalance my perfectionist nature.

Packer’s Fundamentalism finally arrived, and I immediately skipped ahead (or caught up, depending on point of reference) to an intriguing article, “Why Scientists Must Believe in God” by Vern Poythress. I’m half through; I’ll post more thoughts when I finish.

I did, however, finish the first chapter of the Westminster Confession (WCF), which is not long in and of itself, but I am digesting G. I. Williamson’s study commentary alongside. Chapter One is “Of the Holy Scriptures,” and outlines why, exactly, we should believe that the Scriptures are the infallible, authoritative Word of G-d. In class, we’ve discussed revelation as the principium of theology, the aseity of G-d, and the perspicuity of Scripture. We are just now getting into general revelation and the differences between Barth and the Reformed view of revelation and Scripture. I suppose Barth is easy to use as the anti-Reformed example, even though he had great influence (and still does) on the Reformed church. Our professor’s use of him as dunce prompted him to say, “Now, Barth is not evil, he’s not Satan; he just took some of his ideas too far.” I laughed out loud.

I really only have one observation thus far. I’m slightly disturbed by WCF 1.8:

The Old Testament in Hebrew (which was the native language of the people of God of old), and the New Testament in Greek (which, at the time of the writing of it, was most generally known to the nations), being immediately inspired by God, and, by His singular care and providence, kept pure in all ages, are therefore authentical; so as, in all controversies of religion, the Church is finally to appeal unto them. But, because these original tongues are not known to all the people of God, who have right unto, and interest in the Scriptures, and are commanded, in the fear of God, to read and search them, therefore they are to be translated in to the vulgar language of every nation unto which they come, that, the Word of God dwelling plentifully in all, they may worship Him in an acceptable manner; and, through patience and comfort of the Scriptures, may have hope.

So, let’s just add some gold tablets in the sky, eternal and uncreated in Hebrew and Greek and you’ve darn well got a Qur’an. Kind of made my stomach churn. I do, thanks to Williamson, understand what they were getting at here. Just came too close for comfort in my mind.

Premonition

Overall, this weekend will rank fairly high on my list of enjoyable weekends. My Friday morning started with a brief negotiation for a raise (due to increased job responsibilities) that went so ridiculously well, I still find it absurd. As if Fridays were not wonderful enough. This weekend was also the first meeting of the course I’m TA-ing, Introduction to Islamic Studies. So, Friday (7-10pm) and Saturday (9-4pm), I listened to Dr. Sookhdeo give a (very) concise history of Islam. It was refreshing to know that the majority of his lectures were refreshers for me, and that I was able to answer students’ questions without sounding like a moron. This was also the first time I’ve been exposed to a Christian perspective on Islam from a true academic. Dr. Sookhdeo is not apologetic about the inherent problems in Islam, nor does he shy from challenging the Western church to protect our fellow Christians living as persecuted minorities in the Muslim world.

After class on Saturday, I went to see Amazing Grace, an excellent film with a powerful and convicting story.

It is this morning that has me a bit bothered. I’d intended to visit a friend’s church but they canceled services do to inclement weather. It wasn’t really bad out, I thought. My church hadn’t canceled services, and neither had another church I was interested in visiting. The roads didn’t look slick, but by the time I left, a soft, wet snow was beginning to fall. Flurries, I thought. I’m from Chicago, this is nothing. I left early, assuming all the other drivers would be taking their sweet time getting to-and-fro. And the roads really weren’t bad. When I started. By the time I’d almost reached my destination, I’d slowed down considerably, and was driving cautiously.

And then I sensed something. I was coming up on a curve in the road – one I know to be sketchy even in fine weather, when you are not paying attention and take it too fast. This will be difficult, slick, I thought. Slow down as much as possible and do not touch the breaks unless absolutely necessary. And, whatever you do, don’t fishtail. Wouldn’t that suck if I fishtailed and went over the small grassy median? Wouldn’t it?

That’s exactly what happened. I let off the gas, downshifted and began to take the turn. The car in front of me was going too quickly and needed to break, thus I had to follow suit or rear-end him. My back end fishtailed; I tried to turn away from the median but got pulled towards it. Somehow, I managed to check my mirrors for cars behind me (there weren’t). I tried to turn into the turn, hoping to avoid crossing the median and just stop facing the wrong way on the northbound side of the road, and continued to pray for no cars. Thankfully, there were no cars behind me, or on the southbound side of the median, because that’s where I stopped, facing southbound but at an angle. My car had gone up and over the median (curbed, maybe six feet wide, with grass and bushes.) I remember hoping the bushes would stop me and keep me from going into traffic. But there was no traffic, and as I came to a stop, a car coming southbound saw me, stopped and buffered me from other cars. I was safe but still a hazard to other drivers. I realized then that though I’d remembered to push in the clutch, I hadn’t taken the car out of gear and I was stuck. I don’t think the cars coming up behind me realized I’d not been their southbound company a moment earlier and just thought I was stalled. It took a few tries to get my car to start, get in gear and move out of the way, onto the only spot of shoulder along the road. A very, very kind man with his son stopped to make sure I was ok, and offered to follow me where ever I needed to go. (And he did.)

THANK G-D I’m fine. My car is fine, and no one else was hit or skidded because of me. I was able to spend the afternoon with a friend playing computer video games which, while a splendid waste of time, was also a pleasant distraction from an upsetting event.

What has me bothered is the premonition. This type of thing happens to me frequently, only it typically does not actually involve me. I have hunches, intuitions, or dreams; most often dreams. I hesitate to call them prophetic because, well, they don’t feel prophetic, and many of them having nothing to do with G-d. I don’t know what prophetic is supposed to feel like; I just don’t feel like that. But I know when some things will happen and when other things won’t happen. These events are not always good, nor always bad. For the most part, they are usually things I can do nothing about, and so I’m never really sure what to do with this information.

I’ve generally don’t discuss this openly. Recently, I started telling a few friends when something happens involving them that I’ve dreamt about, but no one seemed to respond, so I stopped. Last week, a close friend had a rough day. I’d dreamt about it weeks before, but I don’t always know the outcome of events, so I didn’t say anything. Should I? Does it matter? What is the purpose?

New Series: Systematic Theology (ST)

After fighting G-d for years on this, I'm finally going to seminary. I didn't really see the point... I don't want to be a pastor or even a pastor's wife. But there are degrees besides MDiv's, and at this point, it actually makes sense for me to go. I'll be learning Greek and Hebrew, which will help later on down the road when I prepare to write a doctoral thesis on Jesus in the Qur'an. (That's not the exact focus, but I can't give away all my secrets!)

Anyway, I figured I'd do what all the other seminary students out there taking Systematic Theology do: blog about my classes.

The first selection for reading was J.I. Packer's "Fundamentalism" and the Word of God, forever lost to the U.S. Postal service. (A new copy is on the way.) So, I skipped ahead to the second readings. We are reading John Murray's "The Attestation of Scripture," found in Ned Stonehouse's The Infallible Word. I'm not fond of Murray's style. It irritates me that he uses circular arguments to justify his self-acknowledged circular reasoning. If he'd stated upfront that he was attacking Barth's view of Scripture, it would've done wonders for his thesis, as his point for the first two-thirds of the article is unclear. As it stands, I'm finding G. I. Williamson's study guide on The Westminster Confession of Faith far more concise and persuasive. I still need to finish sections 8-10 of Chapter I, and then I'll post some more thoughts.

Farewell to a Legacy

Today is a sad day for Illinoisans everywhere. The University of Illinois, after decades of controversy and under the pressure of sanctions by the NCAA, officially retired Chief Illiniwek today. While the spoilers call him a racist mascot, and say his appearances at halftimes are exaggerated exploitations of Native American culture, I have always, and will always see the Chief as a respectful tradition, honoring not only the history of the Native Americans in Illinois, but the embodying the spirit of the University itself.

I can't really explain the Chief because he has to be experienced. And now he will be no more. The Chief is the U of I. His history holds the fertile soil of the Morrow Plots, his artistry mirrors the excellence of the Krannert Center for the Performing Arts, and his passion is echoed in the strive for academic achievement, supported by the University Library, the largest public library in the world (and the sole reason my undergraduate thesis was any good).

The decision today warranted text messages from fellow alumni, and phone calls to my Dad. For me, the retiring of Chief Illiniwek means a family tradition will die, too. I'm a third generation Illini. I grew up going to football games with my Granddad, one of the fondest memories I have from my childhood, and I distinctly remember the reverence my family taught me towards the Chief. Conversations with my Grandma, instead of just being about the weather or the birds on her porch, are sprinkled with Illini basketball statistics - from her, not me. And my strongest connection with my stepmom's parents came when I went to Illinois. When the dementia set in, Mary's one remaining link to my reality was to sing the Alma Mater over the phone whenever I called home, well after I'd graduated. My parents met at Illinois. I met Jesus at Illinois. I'm not trying to equate fondness towards a symbol to my love for Christ. But those memories are intertwined, because they both belong to Illinois.

Hail to the Orange, Hail to the Blue

Hail Alma Mater, ever so true (so true).

We love no other, so let our motto be,

Victory, Illinois, Varsity.

Grown-Up Snow Days

Grown-up snow days are far superior to my childhood memories. Maybe that says more about my childhood memories than I'd like. That's not to say that sledding, snowball fights, building snow forts, drinking gallons of hot chocolate, etc., were not enjoyable. Good times, they were. But typically, even on snow days, we were at the mercy of whatever parents could get off work to supervise and chauffeur.

Alas today was my first free snow day. Ever. (The one time in college classes were cancelled, the cancelling occurred after I sat through an 8am class in the dark, with no heat.)

I did go to work this morning. Well, we were on a 2-hour delay, so I went at 10am. And no one was there... not my co-workers, my boss, or his boss. So, I packed up a binder with a bunch of reading that needed to get done, and headed to Starbucks to work the rest of the day over a hot cup of tea.

I just happened to make a few stops along the way... and, to justify the warm-fuzzy-but-practical-boots purchase, my feet were soaking wet. Once landed in Starbucks, I made a feigned attempt at working. I pulled the binder out of my backpack. But who wants to work when there is John Murray's "The Attestation of Scripture" to be read?

And now there is banana bread to bake, treadmills to run and LOST to watch.

Oh, did I mention that I found a dozen roses on the sidewalk? Who drops a dozen roses and doesn't notice? They were a little frozen, but they still look lovely as my dining table centerpiece.

Chicago Pics

A few moments from my trip...

New snow, outside V and Dave's window this morning.

Dad, this one's for you. From the Coonley House, donated by the Howlett's, no less!

My favorite painting at the Art Institute.

Doesn't that look like something you'd see in a museum? Oh, right...

Drying Out

This week's been a bit of a ride, and I'm realizing more and more that if I do not guard my time and carve out significant space for prayer, study and reflection, molehills turn into mountains.

Occasionally I have to bear in mind I'm an introvert. I can't go to two parties in one weekend because large groups of people exhaust me. The difficulty is finding a balance between loving my friends and being social and giving myself a migraine. Had I not been set on the IKEA pilgrimage or volunteered to "cook" 60 hot dogs for the Super Bowl, I think I would've been alright.

I digress. The real kicker this week was the flood. I came home Tuesday evening with the intention to work out, read for class and then prep the Bible study for small group the following night.

I came home to find ice on my balcony. That's odd, I thought. Why is there a skating rink on my balcony? I stepped closer for a better look. And then I heard it. Trickling water, the soft sound of rain; only it wasn't raining. It was dripping from my ceiling in my living room, bedroom and roommate's closet. It was sopping my carpet. It was ruining pictures and college diplomas, and a stack of notes for class. It was warping cheap furniture. It was thoroughly freaking out my cats.

After cursing, grabbing a handful of towels, forgetting the towels and resorting to moving things out of the way, I just cried. I cried because I couldn't respond the way I wanted to. I wanted to respond with grace, with appreciation that nothing significant was destroyed that couldn't be replaced, with gratefulness that we were some of the lucky ones who did not lose everything. I wanted to not yell at the apartment landlord when they wouldn't at least rip up the carpeting and padding to prevent mold. I wanted to not breakdown and cry. I wanted to be sweet and pleasant and kind and nice. Instead, I was a wreck. I drank wine and at chocolate to cope. I yelled at a friend. I had a phone conversation with another friend that I barely remember because I was too upset to care about what they were saying. I came into work and sat at my cubicle and cried because I didn't have a Bible study prepped and hadn't prayed in days.

And then I did the only thing I could think to do. I asked for prayer. This was a huge ding in my pride. I have little difficulty asking for prayer for scholarships, jobs, decisions, even pesky habits like a poor attitude at work. But to admit that my reaction to a situation was worse than the situation itself, to be vulnerable with my raw emotions and responses; this was a challenge, a test of where my trust truly lies. Was I going to let go of myself enough for G-d to show himself? Do I really trust that He can change me, even when my circumstances don't change?

I'm thankful to say that He did, and in small ways that not only allowed me to actively participate in adjusting my attitude, but fit my personality such that it was restorative. My boss was gracious enough to send me home yesterday so that I could sort through the mess. It sounds silly to say that I started by cleaning, but those who know me well know that this is therapeutic, and having things in as much order as possible was comforting, as well as practical. I rearranged furniture to make better use of the livable space left. When I was done, instead of succumbing to my desire to take a nap, I finally took time to pray. I took a shower, and prepared the Bible study. I read a book. I felt renewed.

Now I'm dried out, both from my negative attitude and literally (the carpet is dry!). I'm sure I will not always respond the way I'd like to stressful situations. But I'll be better prepared, and have the memory of His care this time around.

Frigid cold, and crusted hearts

It’s 21 degrees here today, but it was 38 below zero in Minnesota yesterday.

Thanks to IKEA, I now have a Big Girl Bed.

Class starts tonight. I’m super excited. Still waiting for the book we need for our first reading assignment…

* * *

Anyway, this is what I’ve been thinking about for the last few weeks, and after meeting with some friends yesterday who are bound for the Middle East, these were my thoughts:

I’m mourning the loss of my heart for the nations.

I’ve always been keenly aware of G-d’s love for all peoples, that He desires all to glorify Him, from every tongue and tribe; perhaps accustomed to that even more than His love for me personally. This Will of His was part of my will for a long time and endured many tests of faith.

And then, I lost it.

In large part, I can attribute this to the period in my life when I turned away from G-d’s purposes and plans, lived foolishly, and did not give heed to what He was doing in my life, or beyond. I knew my heart was hard; I did not see the thickening layer of crust growing on it as well. This muck, this cynicism, crept into my thoughts and actions, and I am only now seeing it for what it is and I detest its very presence.

I’ve become bitter, angry with the countries and policies of unbelieving nations; even irritated with their very culture. They’ve become them. Others. Distant. Foreign. Unseen by eyes unwilling to look and therefore forgotten.

And that is only one coat of the crust.

I’m finding what I’ve missed most is my times of prayer for the world, for the persecuted Church and those that do not yet know Him. These times kept me connected, grounded, and drew me closer to His heart. I’ve let my hatred of worldly systems, injustice, and savage behavior rob me of joining in that fellowship. For that, I am saddened and repentant.

It is flaking off now, for that I’m grateful. It is shedding light on my hidden agendas, my willingness to be open to whatever He asks of me, and a richer understanding that ultimately, He calls me to Him.

To Tears

I’ve rarely experienced moments of intense emotion when reading commentaries but I was brought to tears by this, and I wanted to share it.

I’m prepping a study of Psalm 40, and not owning a commentary of my own; I borrowed Spurgeon’s from my pastor’s library. (Thanks, David. You should comment here sometime :)

Versus 6-10 cross-reference with Hebrews 10:5-9; a connection I would not have made on my own, but Hebrews makes it very clear that Ps. 40:6-10 is speaking directly about Christ:

Sacrifice and offering you did not desire,
but my ears you have pierced;
burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not require.

Then I said, "Here I am, I have come— it is written about me in the scroll.

I desire to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart."

I proclaim righteousness in the great assembly;
I do not seal my lips, as you know, O LORD.

I do not hide your righteousness in my heart;
I speak of your faithfulness and salvation.
I do not conceal your love and your truth from the great assembly.

Spurgeon exposits verse 7: Then I said, “Here I am, I have come – it is written about me in the scroll,” with the following:

Immanuel did not send but come; he came in his own personality, in all that constituted his essential self he came forth from the ivory palaces to the abodes of misery; he came promptly at the destined hour; he came with sacred alacrity as one freely offering himself. In the eternal decree it is thus recorded. The mystic roll of predestination which providence gradually unfolds, contained within it, to the Saviour’s knowledge, a written covenant, that in the fullness of time the divine I should descend to earth to accomplish a purpose which hecatombs of bullocks and rams could not achieve. What a privilege to find our names written in the book of life, and what an honour, since the name of Jesus heads the page! Our Lord has respect to his ancient covenant engagements, and herein he teaches us to be scrupulously just in keep our word; have we so promised, it is so written in the book of remembrance? {Emphasis Spurgeon's.}

I like that He did not send but come. That He held the promise of the covenant, and that He spoke His promise in the Psalms. That we find Christ in the Psalms makes clear this was His holy plan, this was no afterthought. His redemptive work on the cross is not Plan B. This causes me to pause, reflecting on His wisdom, His purposes, His provision. If He planned this much for himself, how much does He plan for His Bride, His Beloved? This is humbling, to say the least. In fact, my thoughts were such that I could not put into words, and had to fall in tears of joy, thankfulness and praise. He is a good, good G-d.

Small Changes in Habits

I’ve made two small changes this year. Not New Year’s resolutions per se, just attempts to let Christ permeate my daily life, and I’d like to share them with the two or three people who read this blog.

My freshman year of college I was adopted by my Christian family. This is no slam against my Dad (Hi, Dad. Love you!), or any of my biological family, really. This was G-d’s abundant provision of a spiritual family. The Decker’s are the exact opposite of my immediate family. They are numerous, noisy, and Christ-centered, all in positive ways. When I lived with them, I brought the kid-count to seven, never mind the farm of pets scattered about the house. (Although, I guess I was over eighteen…)

In all the hustle and bustle that kids bring, I was always impressed with Decker family dinners; together, at a real dinning table, complete with grace and attempts at organized passing of dishes. This was a stark contrast to family dinners at my house, on the couch watching Bulls games or ER. Decker dinners were intentionally interactive. No TV blaring in the background. And no answered phone calls, unless it was to say, “We’re eating dinner; I’ll call you back later.” I hope I do not paint too rosy a picture; this activity was certainly forced on one or more of the kids at one time or another. But, on the whole, this was communal.

Nowadays, I likely than not eat alone. I’m rushed, shoving food down while I walk to work, or in the car on my way from here to there. I try to cook more, making meals I can take to the office for lunch. I love hosting and having friends over for dinner, but everyone has chaotic schedules and this works out less than it aught. And though I’ve improved the quality of the meal I eat at dinner, I usually eat it in front of my computer, typing emails, reading blogs, etc. I do not rest while I eat. This, my friends, is not natural.

So I’ve stopped. I’m sitting at the dinning table now to eat my oatmeal in the mornings. I still find myself rushing to finish dinner so I can check my email for the 80th time today, but I sit. I sit and be still, even if it’s just 10 minutes. Now, the real test will be to see if I can actually take a lunch break at work and not eat at my desk. Is it communal? Not as much as I’d like it to be. But it is being conscious of how I inhabit my time.

Second, I’ve started to handle my finances on Sunday mornings. This may sound odd; let me explain. For those of you who know me in real life, you know I’m an organizational freak. It may shock you to know that I am terrible at paying my bills on time. Do I know they are due? Maybe. Do I know how much money I have in my checking account right now? I have a rough estimate. I’m embarrassed to admit, I’m also conveniently forgetful about tithing.

To really be obedient to G-d with my, er His, money, I had to make a change in when I was paying my bills. And what better way to beat it into my head that G-d should be the spender of my checking account than to force myself to sit every Sunday morning before church and write out checks (or pay online). I’ve been doing this for about two months now and I’ve noticed three changes. One, I now pay my bills on time. That doesn’t mean I pay them the week I get them; I still space them out based on when I get paid and when they are due. Two, I tithe every week rather than once a month. This forces me to budget better overall, and although I don’t tithe every week specifically to my church, doing it on Sunday morning reminds me to do it. Third, watching where the money goes every week, as opposed to rarely analyzing spending habits, has helped me save a nice chunk of change in two months time, and I’ve significantly decreased my debt, too.

I don’t know if that will be helpful for anyone else. I just wanted to share. And invite you all to dinner. :)

Things I'd Never do Again

Tomorrow, I'm going to do something I never thought I'd do again. I'll participate in an event that still makes me want to gag a little, even though I'm going now of my own volition. I’m attending a women’s conference. Ugh. I say that, and the cheesiness drips from the words, makes me convulse briefly, and I cannot even stand that I’m saying it.

It is events like this, with their sappy titles and the single women all crying about being single and the married women all telling the single women it’s not that wonderful and that you can still be a Super Christian Woman without a Man that make me recoil. Either I identify with it so much that its disconcerting, or I am just repulsed by the idea that whittling down of the life of a Christian woman to a weekend conference will make a difference. Most likely, it is both.

It is the same with Christian self-help books and the majority of Christian radio. I can’t take it. I really don’t think G-d meant us to be so lame.

I used to blame this stuff for my hiatus from the Church. G-d, Jesus, the Word – all that I could stomach. It was real, raw and rough around the edges. But Hallmark Christianity? No thanks, I’ll pass. It wasn’t “me.” I couldn’t live in this fake Christian world; it felt like high school clicks with a dose of religious zeal to pass for acceptable behavior.

And so, I tried to stand alone. I tried to be a Lone Christian in the Fallen World. This is just as miserable, trust me. And I fell, convincing myself to just try harder, damn it! And I fell some more. Until I could not live with the absence of community any longer.

Now the very things I hated about women’s conferences, or women’s groups in general, I need; I crave. I need other single women who are struggling to find their place, fighting to make sense of where we belong when many of us desire to be supportive Christian women to loving, godly men. And I need other women to remind me that I am serving Jesus just as much by teaching, growing, volunteering, and earnestly seeking Him, as I am by testing my cooking skills on guinea-pig friends in the hopes that one day, I’ll have a family to cook and care for. I need conferences led by talented, intelligent, PhD-pursuing female authors with husbands and kids and full, full lives to push me to never settle and never stop.

And maybe, I need to know that I can belong to this Church, when she is petty and annoying me, so that I am also part of her when she is a beautiful outpouring of Christ’s love to the world.


But I’m still holding off on the ridiculous “I have all the answers with my generous orthodoxy” books, and “contemporary Christian” 90’s “music” garbage. That was harsh.

Friday Afternoon Thoughts

• When are we going to remember we are only good at fighting guerrilla wars via proxy? Oh wait, that's morally reprehensible these days.
• Luke lost 2 lbs, Leia lost 1 lb, and I managed to lose weight over the holiday... does this mean I can keep eating cookies?
• I'm not ready to move, even if it is a great job opportunity. I think. Maybe by summer.
• I'm not even sure I'm ready to apply to the PhD program anymore. It feels rushed. I'd like to go to RTS and get another MA so I can study Hebrew and Greek. Would anyone like to fund this endeavor? I promise I'll publish someday, and I'll put your name as the dedication.

Grace in the Gospels

We make the freely given promise of G-d the foundation of faith because upon it faith properly rests... Faith properly begins with the promise, rests in it, and ends in it. (Calvin, Inst. 3.2.29)

Back in September I began a word study of grace in the NT. And, well, it's been 4 months; I should probably start sharing my thoughts.

We think of grace as commonplace in the Bible, but the word grace appears only four times in the gospels, three of those instances coming in the opening chapter of John. Here are my original thoughts on each, as I recorded them months ago.

Luke 2:40: And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom and the grace of G-d was upon him.

Context: Joseph and Mary have returned with a young Jesus to Nazareth. It is strange, a bit foreign, to think of Jesus as a boy; an infant in a manger - yes, but a child - no. I cannot wrap my brain around that simple an image of my savior. And it is stranger still to think of grace upon him, for isn't He Grace? It is love that bid Him to the cross, to bring glory to the Father. But surely it is because He is Grace that He came at all.

John 1:14: The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

Thoughts: This is John's description of the deity of Christ, but I am still caught and breathless by the thought that Jesus is grace.

John 1:16&17: From the fullness of His grace we have all received one blessing after another. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

Thoughts: Once again, this shows grace as Christs' essence, acted by and through His love on the cross, to bring us hope, salvation, redemption; complete and absolute glory to the Father.

---

Afterthoughts:

Jesus himself never addresses grace; he need not. It is His very core, not just an attribute of his being, but His essence and purpose, too.

Tangent: John is by far my favorite gospel, and possibly my favorite NT book.

Merry Christmas!

Advent and Resurrection

On the eighth day, when it was time to circumcise him, he was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he had been conceived. When the time of their purification according to the Law of Moses had been completed, Joseph and Mary took him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, "Every firstborn male is to be consecrated to the Lord"), and to offer a sacrifice in keeping with what is said in the Law of the Lord: "a pair of doves or two young pigeons." (Luke 2:21-24)

Taking Jesus' body, the two of them wrapped it, with the spices, in strips of linen. (John 19:40)

"Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen one in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him
and he will bring justice to the nations." (Isaiah 42:1)

Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord's Christ. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying: "Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel." (Luke 2:25-32)

So she [Mary] came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don't know where they have put him!"
Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed. (They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.) (John 20:2, 8-9)

The child's father and mother marveled at what was said about him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: "This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too." (Luke 2:33-35)

"Woman," he said, "why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?" (John 20:15)

"I, the LORD, have called you in righteousness;
I will take hold of your hand. I will keep you and will make you
to be a covenant for the people and a light for the Gentiles,
to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness." (Isaiah 42:6-7)

There was also a prophetess, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying. Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem. (Luke 2:36-38)

Jesus said, "Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet returned to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, 'I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'" (John 20:17)

When Joseph and Mary had done everything required by the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth. And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was upon him. (Luke 2:39-40)

Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you!" After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.
Again Jesus said, "Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you." And with that he breathed on them and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit. (John 20:19-22)

Therefore I will give him a portion among the great,
and he will divide the spoils with the strong,

because he poured out his life unto death,

and was numbered with the transgressors.

For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors. (Isaiah 53:12)

Christmas Reflections II

Here are two historical moments, pregnant with anticipation, hope, uncertainty, sorrow, and longing. The birth of a carpenter’s son, with the usual laws of nature disrupted by G-d himself, occurring on a quiet night in an ordinary town. And sacrificial death of that same child, complete with mock coronation, fulfillment of prophecy, and perfectly balanced paradox of a Servant King.

I imagine the universe inhaling, holding its breath in expectation, for each of these events. All of heavens hosts waiting to burst forth to the shepherds as soon as G-d let it be so, and the chill of that dark hour on the cross. When he breathed his last, It is finished, did creation slowly sigh, or silently weep for her King?

John answers a question from my last reflections: How much did Jesus know and when did He know it? Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went out and asked them, “Who is it you want?”

And, Jesus also gives us the reason for Christmas: For this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. I am here for this very purpose, to take on the Father’s will, to be a guilt offering, to heal you through my very wounds.

Mary bookends the stories, not that she be exalted, but that by this essential human relationship, we remember our Savior’s full humanity, from his birth in a manger, to his death on a cross.

Preparation

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. And everyone went to his own town to register. (Luke 2:1, 3)

Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went out and asked them, "Who is it you want?"
"Jesus of Nazareth," they replied. “I am he," Jesus said. (John 18:4-5)
Then the detachment of soldiers with its commander and the Jewish officials arrested Jesus. They bound him and brought him first to Annas, who was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year. (John 18:12-13)

He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised,
and we esteemed him not. (Isaiah 53:3)

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. (Luke 2:4-5)

Pilate then went back inside the palace, summoned Jesus and asked him, "Are you the king of the Jews?"
Jesus said, "My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place."
"You are a king, then!" said Pilate. Jesus answered, "You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me." (John 18:33, 36-37)

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. (Luke 2:6-7)

He grew up before him like a tender shoot,
and like a root out of dry ground.
He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. (Isaiah 53:2)

Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, "Hail, king of the Jews!" And they struck him in the face. (John 19:1-3)

He was oppressed and afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
and as a sheep before her shearers is silent,
so he did not open his mouth. (Isaiah 53:7)

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." (Luke 2:8-12)

Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull (which in Aramaic is called Golgotha). Here they crucified him, and with him two others—one on each side and Jesus in the middle. Pilate had a notice prepared and fastened to the cross. It read: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. (John 19:17-19)

Yet it was the LORD's will to crush him and cause him to suffer,
and though the LORD makes his life a guilt offering, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand. (Isaiah 53:10)

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about." (Luke 2:13-15)

When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, "Dear woman, here is your son," and to the disciple, "Here is your mother." From that time on, this disciple took her into his home. (John 19:26-28)

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told. (Luke 2:16-20)

Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, "I am thirsty." When he had received the drink, Jesus said, "It is finished." With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

But when they came to Jesus and found that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus' side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water. (John 19:30, 33-34)

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5)

Christmas Reflections I

I promised I'd record my reflections on the exercise of juxtaposing the Holy Birth narrative with the Passion.

My first reaction was the extraordinary amount of preparation necessary for Christ's coming. I firmly believe that this was G-d's plan from the beginning - this was not plan B. The momentum of all nature was moving towards this moment from before the dawn of time. The Birth of the Savior of the world took thousands of years of preparation; this is His Great Plan, yet how often do I expect immediate results in my own life? He is always perfect in His timing.

But the intention of the plan never ended in Bethlehem, and as I’ve read and reread John’s account of the Passion Week, I’m always curious as to how much Jesus knew and when he knew it. Calvin suggests that when Jesus knew that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father (Jn. 13:1), “This should be noted carefully, for it refers to Christ’s knowledge that his death was a passing on to the heavenly kingdom of G-d.” Did he know this passing would come with a painful, albeit brief, separation?

I wonder what Mary thought, hearing the words of the angel in her memory, as she birthed her son in less than desirable conditions. This dichotomy permeates Christ’s life – the high, kingly priest contrast with the lowly, humble birth, life and death. The Servant King, meek and loving in his last days, serving his closest friends.

Regardless of how much or when He knew it, His purpose is clear. Zechariah’s testimony claims the history of G-d’s provision of salvation, and that Christ will enable us to serve him without fear in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. This verse does not allow me to be content with just “being saved.” This is engaging, participatory, and continues to carry the momentum of all creation towards the fulfillment of G-d’s purposes on this terrestrial sphere, and beyond.

Anticipation

This will be a series of Christmas posts, based on an exercise I did setting the story of the Holy Birth with the Passion of Christ, as well as some prophecies from Isaiah. I'll post the Scripture (NIV) now and my thoughts later. I've stuck with Luke for the Christmas account, and John for the trial, death and resurrection, and tried to stay in chronological order for both.
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But the angel said to him: "Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John. Many of the people of Israel will he bring back to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous—to make ready a people prepared for the Lord." (Luke 1:13, 16-17)

It was just before the Passover Feast. Jesus knew that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love. (John 13:1)

God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin's name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, "Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."
Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end." (Luke 1:26-33)

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. (John 13:3-5)

The angel answered, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. (Luke 1:35)

Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel. (Isaiah 7:14)

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." (John 14:1-4)

And Mary said: "My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, even as he said to our fathers." (Luke 1:46-48, 54-55)

After Jesus said this, he looked toward heaven and prayed: "Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you. For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him. Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do. And now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I had with you before the world began. (John 17:1-5)

His father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and prophesied: "Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, because he has come and has redeemed his people. He has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David (as he said through his holy prophets of long ago), salvation from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us— to show mercy to our fathers and to remember his holy covenant, the oath he swore to our father Abraham: to rescue us from the hand of our enemies, and to enable us to serve him without fear in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High; for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him, to give his people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace." (Luke 1:67-79)

"Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world. (John 17:24)

Prioritizing

There's nothing quite like the holidays that makes me set priorities. I've had to say "no" to quite a bit these past two weeks, including induldging myself in blog entries and comments. And, after two requests to open a bakery, I'm done with cookies. Seriously; I can take no more flour, sugar, frosting, eggs, etc. Neither can my middle. I'm only making 'real food' for the next two weeks, and trying to keep it healthy at that.

Work has slipped as a priority. Although it's been busy, my mind is distracted on friends going through hard times, conviction over my own stewardship with money and time, holiday parties, and determining whether my body just needs rest or a solid workout.

Advent is also lost in the cobwebs and shadows, pushed to the bottom of the growing list of things to do this weekend, just above posting to this blog. But that is the heart of this season, to stop, pause, take time, and remember the birth of our Lord. Yet every year it sneaks up faster, the lists get longer, there are dozens of cookies to bake, multiple functions to attend. All on top of everyday life -- grandparents passing, finals, waiting for test results, mourning and joy.

I am glad for some of the shifts I see in my priorities, and though I constantly fail to keep this as my first thought, I continue to seek rest in Him; to wait and anticipate His birth and return.