Four elements in Matthew 5:10-12 stand out: (1) this is characteristic of Kingdom people, (2) the relationship of righteousness and Christ, (3) suffering partakes in the heritage of the saints, and (4) we are to rejoice in our sufferings.
The Church of Christ, his Body, Bride and Building, comprises the kingdom inhabitants of the Kingdom of God, for which Matthew uses his favored phrase, “kingdom of heaven.” The characteristics found in the Beatitudes are purposefully striking in their tension with the world’s expectations and values. Our persecution for Christ’s sake comes not from our own obnoxiousness or self-righteousness, nor should it. It comes directly from “the clash between two irreconcilable value-systems.”[1] The Lord values humility, service, honesty, and selfless love. The world does not.
Christ blesses those persecuted for righteousness sake and those who are persecuted because of faith in him. Ridderbos argues that righteousness is connected with the concept of the kingdom of heaven, and not the righteousness imputed to us by Christ.[2] However, this is close to the traditional Lutheran view, and paints the Beatitudes as a revision of the Ten Commandments – a new law. Christ immediately dismisses this notion, illustrating that he came to fulfill the Law, and concluding that “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”[3] Christ is not giving another law, impossible to fulfill. As James Boice explains, this righteousness is obviously unattainable on our own accord. It is only because of our own despair that we might turn to Christ and find new life in him.[4] The Beatitude examples are the working out of salvation, our sanctification. Just as Christ later urges us on to perfection, because we are perfected in him, so here he can speak of our becoming righteous as his righteousness.[5]
When Christ speaks of persecution in the Sermon on the Mount, he is not merely stating that those who stand for righteousness will face the possibility of persecution. This is a plain proclamation for all who trust in Christ. Jesus shifts, expanding from addressing those to addressing you.[6] Persecution is coupled with you, the disciples and followers of Christ, and it is the direct result of Christ himself.[7] The heritage of the disciples and the Body of Christ are one, because all are coheirs with Christ, “provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.”[8]
The Church is linked with those who have gone before, offering a firm reminder to those that often benefit from others who have cleared the way. Barclay calls this “the bliss of the blood-stained way,” and he recounts that “to have to suffer persecution is, as Jesus himself said, the way to walk the same road as the prophets, and the saints, and the martyrs have walked. To suffer for the right is to gain a share in a great succession.”[9] As those called to suffer, the Church is now joined with Israel and the Old Testament prophets. This gives cause to rejoice, as it demonstrates the Church’s position as the Lord’s chosen people.
Commanding his followers to rejoice in our sufferings, Jesus reminds us that this is no small thing to be counted as his. The Church is chosen to display the Lord’s glory to the earth, and lest we become inflated with self-righteousness and pride, it must be done through suffering for the sake Christ our Lord. It is through the Church’s suffering that the world should look to the treasure of Christ, not to the jars of clay containing the prize.[10] We can rest in the hope that suffering produces, boasting in our weakness for the gain of Christ.[11]
[1] Stott, The Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 52
[2] Ridderbos, The Coming of the Kingdom, 286
[3] Matthew 5:20
[4] Boice, The Gospel of Matthew, 72
[5] Matthew 5:48
[6] Matthew 5:1-2
[7] Matthew 5:11
[8] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, (New York. Simon & Schuster, 1995), 107; Romans 8:17
[9] Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, 115
[10] 2 Corinthians 4:7
[11] Romans 5:3; 2 Corinthians 12:9
09 January 2008
06 January 2008
A poem, on Epiphany
Journey of the Magi
T.S. Eliot
A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times when we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities dirty and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times when we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities dirty and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wineskins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.
All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
05 January 2008
Suffering: Case Text (Part I)
Introduction
Case Text: The Last Beatitude
Disdain and distancing from suffering is nothing new or unique to today. Herman Ridderbos writes of the historical dilemma involving Christ’s suffering and that “the attempt has been made to cancel the significance of all this by explaining such explicit pronouncements on the necessity of the sufferings as vaticinia ex eventu (prophecies after the events) and ascribing them to the later Christian church.” [1] He is speaking of the sufferings of Christ, but the sufferings of our Savior and the call to the Church to join in his sufferings are tightly related. Ridderbos expounds, “In opposition to such conceptions it must be maintained that the idea of the suffering and death of Christ and its necessity is one of the most essential elements of the kerygma [proclamation, preaching] of Christ in the synoptic gospels and from the outset it also determined Jesus’ actions in word and deeds.”[2] Christ teaches that his followers will suffer in the Sermon on the Mount, and the New Testament writers repeatedly echo this teaching.
Historical scholarship and interpretations abound on the Sermon on the Mount, ranging from the interim ethic of Albert Schweitzer to the Lutheran view as a Sermon of (new) Law. This is close to Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s view, but John Stott draws out that Bonhoeffer did capture the more reformed, kingdom-theology approach.[3] The set of standards found in the Beatitudes is addressed to the Church and must be the goal, with the ultimate realization that only through the resurrection power of Christ can believers strive towards that goal, and only in the future will the Church fully achieve it perfectly.[4] Ridderbos explains that these kingdom prescriptions “though still future as regards [to] its perfect consummation, it has fundamentally become a fact at the present moment.”[5]
All of the Beatitudes are descriptions of the character of the Church, yet the last Beatitude is the only one expanded and personalized. Christ is addressing his disciples, and by extension, all his followers, giving instructions in how they should set themselves apart in the world. This is how the world will see our witness, in our love for one another by living out the Beatitudes. When Christ gave the Great Commission - to go forth and be the Church[6] - this was his vision for how to be his Kingdom people. Our path of discipleship is along the road of the Beatitudes.
[1] Herman Ridderbos, The Coming of the Kingdom. Philadelphia. (Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing Company, 1962), 159
[2] Ridderbos, The Coming of the Kingdom, 159
[3] Stott, The Message of The Sermon on the Mount, 53
[4] Craig L. Blomberg, Jesus and the Gospels, (Nashville. Broadman & Holman, 1997), 247
[5] Ridderbos, The Coming of the Kingdom, 73
[6] Matthew 28:19-20; note the command to teach the disciples of all nations all that Christ had commanded them.
Case Text: The Last Beatitude
Disdain and distancing from suffering is nothing new or unique to today. Herman Ridderbos writes of the historical dilemma involving Christ’s suffering and that “the attempt has been made to cancel the significance of all this by explaining such explicit pronouncements on the necessity of the sufferings as vaticinia ex eventu (prophecies after the events) and ascribing them to the later Christian church.” [1] He is speaking of the sufferings of Christ, but the sufferings of our Savior and the call to the Church to join in his sufferings are tightly related. Ridderbos expounds, “In opposition to such conceptions it must be maintained that the idea of the suffering and death of Christ and its necessity is one of the most essential elements of the kerygma [proclamation, preaching] of Christ in the synoptic gospels and from the outset it also determined Jesus’ actions in word and deeds.”[2] Christ teaches that his followers will suffer in the Sermon on the Mount, and the New Testament writers repeatedly echo this teaching.
Historical scholarship and interpretations abound on the Sermon on the Mount, ranging from the interim ethic of Albert Schweitzer to the Lutheran view as a Sermon of (new) Law. This is close to Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s view, but John Stott draws out that Bonhoeffer did capture the more reformed, kingdom-theology approach.[3] The set of standards found in the Beatitudes is addressed to the Church and must be the goal, with the ultimate realization that only through the resurrection power of Christ can believers strive towards that goal, and only in the future will the Church fully achieve it perfectly.[4] Ridderbos explains that these kingdom prescriptions “though still future as regards [to] its perfect consummation, it has fundamentally become a fact at the present moment.”[5]
All of the Beatitudes are descriptions of the character of the Church, yet the last Beatitude is the only one expanded and personalized. Christ is addressing his disciples, and by extension, all his followers, giving instructions in how they should set themselves apart in the world. This is how the world will see our witness, in our love for one another by living out the Beatitudes. When Christ gave the Great Commission - to go forth and be the Church[6] - this was his vision for how to be his Kingdom people. Our path of discipleship is along the road of the Beatitudes.
[1] Herman Ridderbos, The Coming of the Kingdom. Philadelphia. (Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing Company, 1962), 159
[2] Ridderbos, The Coming of the Kingdom, 159
[3] Stott, The Message of The Sermon on the Mount, 53
[4] Craig L. Blomberg, Jesus and the Gospels, (Nashville. Broadman & Holman, 1997), 247
[5] Ridderbos, The Coming of the Kingdom, 73
[6] Matthew 28:19-20; note the command to teach the disciples of all nations all that Christ had commanded them.
28 December 2007
Assassination and Atonement
I typically don’t write about current events. However, it’s been refreshing to not have classes for a few weeks now. My social life is back, at least until January 2, when I will have to try and squeeze in a virtual class before the Spring semester starts on January 30. Eeek. I still plan on throwing up some papers from last semester, but for now I’ll occupy you all (all three of you) with some thoughts on the recent assassination of Benazir Bhutto and a movie review.
“Shocked.” “Stunned.” “Surprised.” These words appear repeatedly, splashed across news sources in story after story of Bhutto’s death. Seriously? Bhutto’s goal was not martyrdom, but she knew this was a very real, very likely probability. It was only a matter of time before an assassination attempt succeeded. I am surprised at how many reporters, politicians, officials and others who express such naiveté. Saddened, certainly. Disappointed and dismayed, sure. But shocked that threats from terrorist organizations with a history of carrying out their threats actually happened? No way. When will we learn that they mean what they say and do what they say? If they feel they have a chance to disrupt “democratic” elections, they will. Did we learn nothing from Madrid? And how many different accounts can Pakistan’s Interior Ministry give on her cause of death?
Entirely unrelated, I saw Atonement last night. This is the screenplay adaptation of Ian McEwan’s novel and as the NYT review states, it’s not a bad adaptation; it just demonstrates how diminishing the alteration of literature into film can be. Mind you, I have not read the book. But the film’s expression of Briony’s attempt to atone for her one grave sin lacks moral plausibility. I walked out thinking, “Either that was a poor ending done to save time, or Briony’s really did not understand atonement. “
And, from a secular source, I suppose one cannot expect such. However, even from that view, her attempt at righting a terrible wrong felt self-satisfying, even self-righteous. This was not an act that the two characters wronged would have felt was due penance for her sin, but it certainly makes her feel better. What’s interesting is that Briony displays some understanding of this… and then it fades. In any case, the Times review is worth the read and the movie is worth seeing. I disagreed with the reviewer on his/her assessment of the war scenes as detached. I found them very moving and believable; the ending, however, was not.
“Shocked.” “Stunned.” “Surprised.” These words appear repeatedly, splashed across news sources in story after story of Bhutto’s death. Seriously? Bhutto’s goal was not martyrdom, but she knew this was a very real, very likely probability. It was only a matter of time before an assassination attempt succeeded. I am surprised at how many reporters, politicians, officials and others who express such naiveté. Saddened, certainly. Disappointed and dismayed, sure. But shocked that threats from terrorist organizations with a history of carrying out their threats actually happened? No way. When will we learn that they mean what they say and do what they say? If they feel they have a chance to disrupt “democratic” elections, they will. Did we learn nothing from Madrid? And how many different accounts can Pakistan’s Interior Ministry give on her cause of death?
Entirely unrelated, I saw Atonement last night. This is the screenplay adaptation of Ian McEwan’s novel and as the NYT review states, it’s not a bad adaptation; it just demonstrates how diminishing the alteration of literature into film can be. Mind you, I have not read the book. But the film’s expression of Briony’s attempt to atone for her one grave sin lacks moral plausibility. I walked out thinking, “Either that was a poor ending done to save time, or Briony’s really did not understand atonement. “
And, from a secular source, I suppose one cannot expect such. However, even from that view, her attempt at righting a terrible wrong felt self-satisfying, even self-righteous. This was not an act that the two characters wronged would have felt was due penance for her sin, but it certainly makes her feel better. What’s interesting is that Briony displays some understanding of this… and then it fades. In any case, the Times review is worth the read and the movie is worth seeing. I disagreed with the reviewer on his/her assessment of the war scenes as detached. I found them very moving and believable; the ending, however, was not.
15 December 2007
Things that helped me get through finals
The key to getting through finals without complete loss of sanity is, of course, bribery. (aka, "rewards" systems that you all know you do!)
So aside from the occasional <>, alright, daily trip to the coffee purveyor of my choice, here's what kept me going.
So aside from the occasional <>, alright, daily trip to the coffee purveyor of my choice, here's what kept me going.
- Vivaldi's Four Seasons. This is actually the only music I can study to; anything with words and I just end up singing along. It also happens to be my favorite composition. Ever.
- Easy Tiger, Ryan Adams. In all honesty, I haven't even listened to any Ryan Adams past Gold. And Gold is still my favorite solo project, but Easy Tiger is growing on me. There are hints of Adams' brilliance on "Two Hearts" and "Everybody Knows." I wanted to like "The Sun Also Sets," and it starts out so well, but he tries too hard with too many transitions and vocalizations. Redeeming track: "Pearls on a String."
- The Washington Ballet's Nutcracker. Not as polished as Joffery or the American Ballet Theater, but the creative interpretation of an Americana-inspired Nutcracker was delightful. Amazing costume design. Favorite part: the Russian dance was done in a "frontiersman" theme... complete with Davy Crockett.
- This song by the Swedish musician Loney, dear.
- Thai Kitchen. I'm not a big fan of packaged food. But, after realizing that I was pretty much only consuming coffee/chai or Panera, I had to find a healthier way to eat in a rush while studying. They were actually cheaper in the store ($1.29) and vegan and gluten free. :)
What I'm looking forward to over break:
Reading The Once and Future King. And taking another class, of course.
12 December 2007
A Poem for Finals
My roommate sent me this poem as an encouragment, since we both have our last finals tomorrow night. I liked it so much I decided to post it.
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheapf
or power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front by Wendell Berry
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheapf
or power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front by Wendell Berry
10 December 2007
Christmas Reflections (again)
This seems to be a common search result that leads to my blog but I'm not sure how well I did stringing the series together the first time. So, I'll post all the links to the series below.
I am 3 days away from being done with finals and then I might have time to do some more Christmas reflecting this year. Hopefully.
Many blessings to you all this Christmas season.
Actually, I just realized I never finished the series. I'll work on that over break. :)
I am 3 days away from being done with finals and then I might have time to do some more Christmas reflecting this year. Hopefully.
Many blessings to you all this Christmas season.
Actually, I just realized I never finished the series. I'll work on that over break. :)
24 November 2007
Suffering: Introduction
Finished my Gospels paper Wednesday afternoon about 20 minutes before it had to be postmarked. Sadly, (more than sadly - shamefully) I did not proof read the entire paper before printing, shoving it in an envelope, and dragging my semi-conscious self to the post office.
This is the intro. I'll post the rest in sections as I am able to edit and revise. :) Just one caveat: I was limited to picking my primary scripture from the Gospels, since it was for the Gospels class. My goals for the Systematic paper due in two weeks are to a) not abuse the semicolon b) avoid my Midwest tendency of ending sentences with prepositions and c) not split my verbs. Old habits die hard. Urgh.
Introduction
Christ calls us to suffer, displaying resurrection power through our sufferings, refining us and drawing the world to him. The call to the Church, as we wait for our savoir to return, is found in the proclamation of suffering. Today, we are inundated with Western individualism, ignoring the unity of the Body of Christ, or taken to the other extreme with the communal salvation of federal vision theology. We have lost sight of what it means for the Church – unified in Christ – to suffer. The prosperity gospel infiltrates confessional, reformed churches as much as mainstream Christianity, subtly relating suffering with a lack of material possessions, status or reputation. This is a far cry from the suffering Christ proclaimed in the Sermon on the Mount when he said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”[1]
There are common sufferings cause by the fallen state of mankind that all of humanity experience: disease, sickness, toil in labor, and death itself are all the result of Adam’s sin. But this is not the suffering Christ exampled, nor is it the heritage of the prophets of Israel, and neither is it the call to the Church. True Christian suffering is harassment, legal or institutional punishment or discrimination, interrogation, arrest, fines or bribes, imprisonment, or murder for one’s faith, including perceived and actual evangelism, whether formally or informally outlawed by the state. In short, suffering is persecution because of faith in Christ. The early Church experienced persecution daily, suffering for truth, not because of the sinful state of mankind.[2] William Barclay captures this, quoting an old poet describing the Church as “the panting, huddled flock whose crime was Christ.”[3]
What does it mean for the Church to suffer in today’s world? Why are we called to suffer? What implications does this have for how the Western (and presumably non-suffering) Church should interact with the worldwide Church?
Christ came to suffer and he calls us to join him.[4] This call is not optional, it is essential to the life of the Church. We need not seek suffering but we are obligated to partner with those in our brethren experiencing the daily sufferings from claiming Christ crucified. Supporting the global, indigenous and often suffering church, is essential for the life and mission of the Church, and fulfills the call of the Church to suffer with our brothers and sisters.
This is the intro. I'll post the rest in sections as I am able to edit and revise. :) Just one caveat: I was limited to picking my primary scripture from the Gospels, since it was for the Gospels class. My goals for the Systematic paper due in two weeks are to a) not abuse the semicolon b) avoid my Midwest tendency of ending sentences with prepositions and c) not split my verbs. Old habits die hard. Urgh.
~ ~ ~
The Proclamation of Suffering
Implications for missions
Implications for missions
Introduction
Christ calls us to suffer, displaying resurrection power through our sufferings, refining us and drawing the world to him. The call to the Church, as we wait for our savoir to return, is found in the proclamation of suffering. Today, we are inundated with Western individualism, ignoring the unity of the Body of Christ, or taken to the other extreme with the communal salvation of federal vision theology. We have lost sight of what it means for the Church – unified in Christ – to suffer. The prosperity gospel infiltrates confessional, reformed churches as much as mainstream Christianity, subtly relating suffering with a lack of material possessions, status or reputation. This is a far cry from the suffering Christ proclaimed in the Sermon on the Mount when he said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”[1]
There are common sufferings cause by the fallen state of mankind that all of humanity experience: disease, sickness, toil in labor, and death itself are all the result of Adam’s sin. But this is not the suffering Christ exampled, nor is it the heritage of the prophets of Israel, and neither is it the call to the Church. True Christian suffering is harassment, legal or institutional punishment or discrimination, interrogation, arrest, fines or bribes, imprisonment, or murder for one’s faith, including perceived and actual evangelism, whether formally or informally outlawed by the state. In short, suffering is persecution because of faith in Christ. The early Church experienced persecution daily, suffering for truth, not because of the sinful state of mankind.[2] William Barclay captures this, quoting an old poet describing the Church as “the panting, huddled flock whose crime was Christ.”[3]
What does it mean for the Church to suffer in today’s world? Why are we called to suffer? What implications does this have for how the Western (and presumably non-suffering) Church should interact with the worldwide Church?
Christ came to suffer and he calls us to join him.[4] This call is not optional, it is essential to the life of the Church. We need not seek suffering but we are obligated to partner with those in our brethren experiencing the daily sufferings from claiming Christ crucified. Supporting the global, indigenous and often suffering church, is essential for the life and mission of the Church, and fulfills the call of the Church to suffer with our brothers and sisters.
-----
[1] Matthew 5:10-12
[2] John R.W. Stott, The Message of The Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). The Bible Speaks Today. (Downer’s Grove, InterVarsity Press, 1978), 52; William Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, Volume 1 (Chapters 1 to 10). The Daily Study Bible Series (rev. ed.). (Philadelphia, Westminster Press, 1975), 111-113; James Montgomery Boice, The Gospel of Matthew: Volume 1, The King and His Kingdom, Matthew 1-17. (Grand Rapids. Baker Books, 2001), 77, cf. 1 Peter 3:14
[3] Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, 114
[4] Mark 8:31
[1] Matthew 5:10-12
[2] John R.W. Stott, The Message of The Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). The Bible Speaks Today. (Downer’s Grove, InterVarsity Press, 1978), 52; William Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, Volume 1 (Chapters 1 to 10). The Daily Study Bible Series (rev. ed.). (Philadelphia, Westminster Press, 1975), 111-113; James Montgomery Boice, The Gospel of Matthew: Volume 1, The King and His Kingdom, Matthew 1-17. (Grand Rapids. Baker Books, 2001), 77, cf. 1 Peter 3:14
[3] Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, 114
[4] Mark 8:31
07 November 2007
Languagues and Luther
I vaguely remember German from middle and high school. Sadly, I took four years and about the most I can remember is that Ich bin ein Berliner means “I am a jelly doughnut” not “I am one from Berlin.” Still, it’s good to know I won’t go hungry in Germany.
German ended junior year when I transfer to a school with minimal language programs and decided to load my schedule with APs rather than take on another language. Oh, if only I had known.
Four years latter I found myself studying one of the most difficult languages in the world: Arabic. Arabic is an evil, spiteful language for the linguistically challenged. There’s Modern Standard Arabic, spoken predominately in media outlets, and its literary counterpart fuṣḥā. But Arabic is not really a written language and there are dialects (Egyptian, Iraqi, Levantine, etc.), as well as sub-languages like Moroccan, with a blend of French and Berber just for kicks. But the killers are the case endings. Arabic maintains a full set of case endings (which I believe is eight). Now whether or not they are pronounced varies from dialect to dialect…
Like I said, it’s evil. Combine all of this with my 19-year old very timid self and mix it into an Arabic class with native speakers. Add the fact that I just do NOT remember high school English. Stir for three years. Final result = disaster.
All of this to say that since then, I’ve been terrified and intimidated by languages. But the research that I’d like to do someday will require that I learn at least two other languages, and go back and learn Qur’anic Arabic. (Yes, that's a whole 'nuther ballgame.)
So I plunged in and started Hebrew just eight weeks ago. And I love it. Like LOVE it, love it. Like don’t know if I can do my future research because why would anyone want to learn Greek when there is Hebrew? Granted, I’m sure my years of that not-so-friendly Semitic language made Hebrew a tad easier. Ok, it helped significantly. But Hebrew is just cool.
Which brings me indirectly to Luther. Contrary to popular belief, Luther actually knew what he was writing when he penned “A Mighty Fortress is Our God.” In his second verse, the forth line is often translated as: Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same. But the German reads “Der Herr Zebaoth,” and translating this as Sabaoth implies that Luther’s understanding of his native tongue was so poor, he did not know the German word for Sabbath (Sabbat). In fact, Luther knew Hebrew. Zebaoth was his transliteration of צבאות which means hosts, i.e., heavenly hosts.
And that is your Hebrew lesson for the day.
German ended junior year when I transfer to a school with minimal language programs and decided to load my schedule with APs rather than take on another language. Oh, if only I had known.
Four years latter I found myself studying one of the most difficult languages in the world: Arabic. Arabic is an evil, spiteful language for the linguistically challenged. There’s Modern Standard Arabic, spoken predominately in media outlets, and its literary counterpart fuṣḥā. But Arabic is not really a written language and there are dialects (Egyptian, Iraqi, Levantine, etc.), as well as sub-languages like Moroccan, with a blend of French and Berber just for kicks. But the killers are the case endings. Arabic maintains a full set of case endings (which I believe is eight). Now whether or not they are pronounced varies from dialect to dialect…
Like I said, it’s evil. Combine all of this with my 19-year old very timid self and mix it into an Arabic class with native speakers. Add the fact that I just do NOT remember high school English. Stir for three years. Final result = disaster.
All of this to say that since then, I’ve been terrified and intimidated by languages. But the research that I’d like to do someday will require that I learn at least two other languages, and go back and learn Qur’anic Arabic. (Yes, that's a whole 'nuther ballgame.)
So I plunged in and started Hebrew just eight weeks ago. And I love it. Like LOVE it, love it. Like don’t know if I can do my future research because why would anyone want to learn Greek when there is Hebrew? Granted, I’m sure my years of that not-so-friendly Semitic language made Hebrew a tad easier. Ok, it helped significantly. But Hebrew is just cool.
Which brings me indirectly to Luther. Contrary to popular belief, Luther actually knew what he was writing when he penned “A Mighty Fortress is Our God.” In his second verse, the forth line is often translated as: Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same. But the German reads “Der Herr Zebaoth,” and translating this as Sabaoth implies that Luther’s understanding of his native tongue was so poor, he did not know the German word for Sabbath (Sabbat). In fact, Luther knew Hebrew. Zebaoth was his transliteration of צבאות which means hosts, i.e., heavenly hosts.
And that is your Hebrew lesson for the day.
30 October 2007
22 October 2007
Just for Fun
Some entertainment, in celebration of my 29th year.
Debating the Year of Living Biblically
Good looks = Bad theology. You know what they say, “If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife.” I’ll be looking for an ugly husband.
Election help. I matched with John Cox (who?), Mike Huckabee, Mitt Romney (gag me), and Ron Paul (funny, feisty little man).
I’m half-done with midterms. I think I did well on the Systematic essays: a) What is the relationship between the NT Church and OT Israel, b) According to Clowney, what is the structure of the church, and c) What is the role of women in ministry? I’ll post my answers if I pass. :)
I finally came up with a paper topic for Gospels, though I haven’t started any research. I'd like to look at the role of suffering/persecution as the Church body and the implications of that for missions. Primarily, I would be looking at John 15:19-20, Matt. 5:10-12, Matt 25:40, and John 13:34-35, with significant support from the Epistles, and connecting both the suffering of Christ and the relationship between Israel and the Church in the gathering of nations. I will essentially be making the argument that supporting the indigenous and often suffering church in a global context is essential for the spread of the Gospel, and that ultimately, the call of the church is to suffer with our brothers and sisters.
And last but not least, all I’d really like for my birthday are some squash recipes that do not involve acorn squash with butter and brown sugar. Come on, people, be creative!
UPDATE: Squash recipes are all good, but on second thought, I'd really like a bb gun to shoot the #*%&$ squirrels that keep eating my snapdragons. Grrrr.
Debating the Year of Living Biblically
Good looks = Bad theology. You know what they say, “If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife.” I’ll be looking for an ugly husband.
Election help. I matched with John Cox (who?), Mike Huckabee, Mitt Romney (gag me), and Ron Paul (funny, feisty little man).
I’m half-done with midterms. I think I did well on the Systematic essays: a) What is the relationship between the NT Church and OT Israel, b) According to Clowney, what is the structure of the church, and c) What is the role of women in ministry? I’ll post my answers if I pass. :)
I finally came up with a paper topic for Gospels, though I haven’t started any research. I'd like to look at the role of suffering/persecution as the Church body and the implications of that for missions. Primarily, I would be looking at John 15:19-20, Matt. 5:10-12, Matt 25:40, and John 13:34-35, with significant support from the Epistles, and connecting both the suffering of Christ and the relationship between Israel and the Church in the gathering of nations. I will essentially be making the argument that supporting the indigenous and often suffering church in a global context is essential for the spread of the Gospel, and that ultimately, the call of the church is to suffer with our brothers and sisters.
And last but not least, all I’d really like for my birthday are some squash recipes that do not involve acorn squash with butter and brown sugar. Come on, people, be creative!
UPDATE: Squash recipes are all good, but on second thought, I'd really like a bb gun to shoot the #*%&$ squirrels that keep eating my snapdragons. Grrrr.
16 October 2007
Ethical unease
I am settling into the new world of non-profit fundraising and research. I love my job. It is amazing to enjoy going to work each day. I am also in over my head in seminary. I put Hebrew first because I know my tendency with languages is to be overwhelmed and give-up. Thankfully, that's not the case so far. We'll see what the midterm says. I was encouraged when I was the only one in the class that caught a spelling error (in Hebrew) on a quiz. But as for Systematic and Gospels...
Back to the title topic. Today brought an interesting dilemma to the new work adventure. Being the development coordinator, I get to mess in everyone's business. I get to have an opinion on marketing, research, logos, everything down to how the receptionist answers the phone. Idea being that, as a non-profit, you bend over backwards to get folks to give you money. This is the part of my job that I hate. I hate asking people for money. I can't think about it like that. I prefer to talk of "partnerships" and "supporters" rather than "donors" or "clients." But, at the end of the day, it's my job to convince people to take out their checkbooks. I'm happy to do this only because I fully believe in the call of the organization; we bear the unique claim of aiding the suffering, global Church. (I'll write more about this later when I finish my paper for Gospels.)
So, we're a Christian organization that takes money from Christians and gives it to Christians around the world to help impoverished, persecuted or suffering Christians. On the whole, we make no distinctions along denominational lines. I know where my organizations stands, and I know where my individual coworkers stand on theological/doctrinal issues, and they are in agreement with my own.
However, the issue came up today of how far is acceptable to go to solicit funds from those with questionable theology. I'm not talking about differences between, say, Reformed Baptists and Reformed Presbyterians. I mean more like beyond Emergent and into the realm of Joel Osteen. The advertising in question wouldn't directly link us to anyone; but it would target a very theologically diverse crowd.
So, is this a necessary line to draw? Do we ask supporters if they adhere to the Westminster Confession before they give, or just gratefully take their money, send a (personalized) thank-you and pass it along to those in need? Is this, as Dr. G raised in class last night, the slippery slope of distinguishing the visible church from the invisible church?
Back to the title topic. Today brought an interesting dilemma to the new work adventure. Being the development coordinator, I get to mess in everyone's business. I get to have an opinion on marketing, research, logos, everything down to how the receptionist answers the phone. Idea being that, as a non-profit, you bend over backwards to get folks to give you money. This is the part of my job that I hate. I hate asking people for money. I can't think about it like that. I prefer to talk of "partnerships" and "supporters" rather than "donors" or "clients." But, at the end of the day, it's my job to convince people to take out their checkbooks. I'm happy to do this only because I fully believe in the call of the organization; we bear the unique claim of aiding the suffering, global Church. (I'll write more about this later when I finish my paper for Gospels.)
So, we're a Christian organization that takes money from Christians and gives it to Christians around the world to help impoverished, persecuted or suffering Christians. On the whole, we make no distinctions along denominational lines. I know where my organizations stands, and I know where my individual coworkers stand on theological/doctrinal issues, and they are in agreement with my own.
However, the issue came up today of how far is acceptable to go to solicit funds from those with questionable theology. I'm not talking about differences between, say, Reformed Baptists and Reformed Presbyterians. I mean more like beyond Emergent and into the realm of Joel Osteen. The advertising in question wouldn't directly link us to anyone; but it would target a very theologically diverse crowd.
So, is this a necessary line to draw? Do we ask supporters if they adhere to the Westminster Confession before they give, or just gratefully take their money, send a (personalized) thank-you and pass it along to those in need? Is this, as Dr. G raised in class last night, the slippery slope of distinguishing the visible church from the invisible church?
05 October 2007
Digests?
In Gospels, we've been tasked by Guy Waters to write a "digest" for each book assigned in class. I take it this was intended to capture the essence of the book, but I'm still a little fuzzy on the point of this exercise. It was not supposed to be a response or book review. And, we could do it in small paragraphs or in outline format. I opted for the outline.
However, outlining two 600-page books was not the simple process I thought it would be. In short, I now have 10-page outlines for Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Everett Ferguson) and Jesus and the Gospels (Craig L. Blomberg). But, I've not really read them nor did I retain anything. This was by far the most useless assignment I've done in seminary, and possibly in my entire graduate career.
See, my reading retention is so painfully poor that I make 3 x 5 index cards for every book or article I read. I started to do this with Ferguson, realized about 1/3 into the book that
I would never have enough time or space (10-page limit) to type it all, and proceeded to outline the rest based on subheadings and italicised points. Granted, I'm sure my index-card process could be more efficient, but I've got a reading and writing process that earned me one graduate degree and I'm not really keen on changing it all that much. I'm tempted to ask Professor Waters if I can just turn in my index cards for the next two books, or I'll never actually learn anything in this class. Well, that's not entirely true. From what I could tell of headings and subheadings, Waters is sticking pretty close to the books.
But I still don't have a paper topic and class starts in an hour and a half.
However, outlining two 600-page books was not the simple process I thought it would be. In short, I now have 10-page outlines for Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Everett Ferguson) and Jesus and the Gospels (Craig L. Blomberg). But, I've not really read them nor did I retain anything. This was by far the most useless assignment I've done in seminary, and possibly in my entire graduate career.
See, my reading retention is so painfully poor that I make 3 x 5 index cards for every book or article I read. I started to do this with Ferguson, realized about 1/3 into the book that
I would never have enough time or space (10-page limit) to type it all, and proceeded to outline the rest based on subheadings and italicised points. Granted, I'm sure my index-card process could be more efficient, but I've got a reading and writing process that earned me one graduate degree and I'm not really keen on changing it all that much. I'm tempted to ask Professor Waters if I can just turn in my index cards for the next two books, or I'll never actually learn anything in this class. Well, that's not entirely true. From what I could tell of headings and subheadings, Waters is sticking pretty close to the books.
But I still don't have a paper topic and class starts in an hour and a half.
25 September 2007
Traveling
As much as I'd like to say I'm leaving in the Wiener Mobile, I'll only be flying home tomorrow. This was on my block a few weeks ago. Very random, I must say.
I'm headed to visit my family over the next week. It feels a little like I'm stuck in a lengthy transitory phase... moving, switching jobs, starting school again, etc. And yet, I seem to thrive on this sort of thing. I can't imagine being "settled" in the sense that I can't imagine I won't want to try new challenges even when I am "settled." It's difficult to imagine what settled even looks like.
School is saturating me with theology. I'm on overload and haven't really been able to produce any fruitful thoughts to share here as of late. Perhaps a week in the cornfields with intermittent internet access will give me time to reflect. That's my hope anyway. At the least, I'll have to catch up on reading, write two papers and faithfully flip through my Hebrew flash cards.
I have to pick a topic for the research paper in my Gospels class. I wanted to do some research on the Gnostic gospels but the prof is limiting us to the Canon. So, any controversial verses out there you'd like to have researched? Suggestions so far: Matt 24:34, Mark 9:1 and Mark 13:10. Any other ideas?
09 September 2007
Uncertainty
His secret will is no cause for doubt.
Recent changes in my life have left me feeling a bit overwhelmed. I remind myself that I’ve done work and school before, and that I really just need to take it one day or week at a time. And really, both are amazing opportunities that I’m blessed to have. As one college friend wrote, “think of all the thousands of people who just make widgets to get by. You get to do something you’ll love!” This is very, very true, and as I began to grumble over biblical Hebrew and Geerhardus Vos yesterday afternoon, I was struck with the thought that my life is in His hands.
Wow, Ryann, you’ve just now caught on to this? Yes, it is one thing to look back at situations, trials and mistakes that He’s brought me through and know that He was with me. It is a different experience to look forward, to know there will be clouds and storms, and to trust that He’ll take me there, only by His lead.
This article was passed to me, and tells of Sudanese Christians fleeing to Israel in the face of horrible circumstances. The friend who sent it marveled that many of these who Christians end up at her church still praise the Lord in the face of such tragedy. It is because they know this truth, perhaps more profoundly than we can understand in the land of good and plenty.
There are infinite uncertainties in life. Where will I find food, work or housing? How will I manage my time and finances? Will I ever be able to pay off my student loans and buy a house? Will I get married, have kids, and die old or young? (Will Apple stop making gadgets for me to covet?) And ultimately, so very little of these uncertainties matter.
And yet, He holds us in His hands. All that is uncertain to us – all the decisions we face, the curve balls life throws our way, even the fleeting thoughts of the frailness and transience of life – do not catch Him by surprise. All is certain with Him. My life will unfold exactly as it should. This reminder was a tremendous comfort and brought to mind the quote from Pierre Marcel. I originally thought this quote was speaking of faith-doubt, implying that not knowing His unrevealed will is no cause to doubt His existence in general. But there is another aspect to the wisdom here. His secret will for our lives – the uncertainty we feel – is no reason for us to doubt that He has a perfect plan in place, and that He has the power to see it to fruition, because He is the master of that plan.
02 September 2007
Mystical longings?
Amid the revelations by Mother Teresa that her communion with the Lord was not what she’d hoped, and questions from a friend about whether or not it is appropriate to ask for a “religious experience” to be granted, I’ve been pondering the role of, the request for, and the desire for mystical elements in our spiritual lives. This is one of those contentious points where I’m not sure that I fully agree with the Reformed cessationist stance, but I’m also not at a point (or in any position) to formulate a new theological perspective. In fact, my thoughts on the matter are quite conflicting and incomplete. I’m not even sure that the termination of tongues and other manifestations of the Holy Spirit are of the same element as mystical experiences. That said, the following thoughts are very raw, and something I hope to flesh out more in the next few months.
I was asked the other day – advised, I should say, to try visualizing handing Jesus my heart, full of its anxiety, troubles, fears; broken and bruised, etc., and to imagine my Lord handing it back to me whole and healed.
I was turned off by this suggestion. It felt too modern psychology, additional, even extra-biblical. Was this an appropriate method to interact with G-d? I’ve done exercises like this before. Tacking my “sins” on a piece of paper to a giant wooden cross, or burning them in a campfire at some retreat or camp. These never seemed like fruitful endeavors, but I thought that perhaps I’m just not a visual learner and that others gain from this experience when for me it was almost irritating.
Did the Lord ever ask us to visualize, I wondered? Certainly there are visions throughout the Bible, and Jesus frequently used parables as illustrations. But they were concrete, at least to the extent that their formulation was governed and distributed by G-d. And, generally speaking, these experiences were given, not sought. This holds true in my experience as well. The images that I do have in my mind’s eye are those that I did not conjure up at will, but that came to me in times of prayer, reflection, or dreams. They have brought great peace in times of loneliness or sorrow, unlike the superficial actions mentioned above.
Yet, we are visual people who need visual experiences. We are even spiritual people who need mystical or religious experiences. I do not mean to suggest we must all have Revelations of Divine Love, or be moved to write mystical poetry. But we are given – very intentionally – visual and tangible symbols of the covenant as means of grace in baptism and the Lord’s Supper.
What I find wrapped in these symbols are mystical elements that the Church likes to simply call “mysteries” rather than flirt with the notions of mysticism. Webster’s highlights mystery as “a religious truth that one can know only by revelation and cannot fully understand,” and mysticism is defined as “the belief that direct knowledge of God, spiritual truth, or ultimate reality can be attained through subjective experience (as intuition or insight).” The slight difference I see is that of subjective experience on the mystical side. One could argue that partaking in communion is objective, in that its purpose is stated, even if mysterious. But do we not each connect differently during that time of private reflection? Isn’t that the great mystery that this same means of grace – one Grace for all – touches us each uniquely and transforms each person differently?
It seems to me, and not just with communion, but with many of the mysteries of our faith – the virgin birth, fulfilled prophecy, Jesus as both fully human and fully divine, etc., that if they were not wrapped in the cloak of Christian history, if they did not carry the weight of the human-touched Church through the centuries, if we could be so bold as to imagine them as new ideas – would they not strike us as mystical and strange? Is their familiarity a tarnish to what should be our very own mystical experience, fulfilling our mystical longings?
I was asked the other day – advised, I should say, to try visualizing handing Jesus my heart, full of its anxiety, troubles, fears; broken and bruised, etc., and to imagine my Lord handing it back to me whole and healed.
I was turned off by this suggestion. It felt too modern psychology, additional, even extra-biblical. Was this an appropriate method to interact with G-d? I’ve done exercises like this before. Tacking my “sins” on a piece of paper to a giant wooden cross, or burning them in a campfire at some retreat or camp. These never seemed like fruitful endeavors, but I thought that perhaps I’m just not a visual learner and that others gain from this experience when for me it was almost irritating.
Did the Lord ever ask us to visualize, I wondered? Certainly there are visions throughout the Bible, and Jesus frequently used parables as illustrations. But they were concrete, at least to the extent that their formulation was governed and distributed by G-d. And, generally speaking, these experiences were given, not sought. This holds true in my experience as well. The images that I do have in my mind’s eye are those that I did not conjure up at will, but that came to me in times of prayer, reflection, or dreams. They have brought great peace in times of loneliness or sorrow, unlike the superficial actions mentioned above.
Yet, we are visual people who need visual experiences. We are even spiritual people who need mystical or religious experiences. I do not mean to suggest we must all have Revelations of Divine Love, or be moved to write mystical poetry. But we are given – very intentionally – visual and tangible symbols of the covenant as means of grace in baptism and the Lord’s Supper.
What I find wrapped in these symbols are mystical elements that the Church likes to simply call “mysteries” rather than flirt with the notions of mysticism. Webster’s highlights mystery as “a religious truth that one can know only by revelation and cannot fully understand,” and mysticism is defined as “the belief that direct knowledge of God, spiritual truth, or ultimate reality can be attained through subjective experience (as intuition or insight).” The slight difference I see is that of subjective experience on the mystical side. One could argue that partaking in communion is objective, in that its purpose is stated, even if mysterious. But do we not each connect differently during that time of private reflection? Isn’t that the great mystery that this same means of grace – one Grace for all – touches us each uniquely and transforms each person differently?
It seems to me, and not just with communion, but with many of the mysteries of our faith – the virgin birth, fulfilled prophecy, Jesus as both fully human and fully divine, etc., that if they were not wrapped in the cloak of Christian history, if they did not carry the weight of the human-touched Church through the centuries, if we could be so bold as to imagine them as new ideas – would they not strike us as mystical and strange? Is their familiarity a tarnish to what should be our very own mystical experience, fulfilling our mystical longings?
28 August 2007
Lasting Impressions
Recently, a debate began among my friends over an issue that I felt was governed by social construct. Now, I fully believe that the person in dissent is a rational human being, and came to the opposing conclusion based on his convictions, and thus it should not be a contentious issue among believers. However, it did hurt some feelings (not all mine), raise questions about social mores, and the weight they should bear on our convictions.
The topic at hand was alcohol. The debate was not over whether or not one should drink, since all those around the table were in agreement that the moderate consumption of alcohol is no problem at all, in most circumstances. No, the conflict came when the dissenter expressed that he did not feel women should drink beer, and that it was only proper for a lady to consume wine. It was a good thing that the only beverages being had at the time were Frosty’s.
I unsuccessfully attempted to engage this friend in a dialogue about the matter. I argued that drinking habits are often influenced by family, social construct and even social class. I appealed to time and place, affluence and poverty, availability and popularity – all to no avail. Finally, I pleaded with taste. Beer goes with burgers and pizza! Wine does not!
How much of our convictions are shaped by our surroundings? I think about the more liberal-ish and social gospel churches I know and it draws to mind friends with tattoos, piercings, and other ways of living that are “gray areas,” but that my more conservative Christian friends might find distasteful or questionable. I think about interactions between my friends of the opposite sex that would be detrimental to my witness in some contexts but not in others. More so, I think of the passing judgment that we dole out, without thinking of the consequences to the Church as a whole, and wonder if many of these are Romans 14 issues. In that light, I wonder how I am to respond when I know that I should respect someone’s convictions, however much I disagree with them. I’m upset by how much this makes me conscious of my actions around said friend, and irritated that I’ve let it upset me.
More importantly, I’m still struggling to find a wine that goes with burgers. My roommate, thankfully, found one that goes with pizza. Whew.
The topic at hand was alcohol. The debate was not over whether or not one should drink, since all those around the table were in agreement that the moderate consumption of alcohol is no problem at all, in most circumstances. No, the conflict came when the dissenter expressed that he did not feel women should drink beer, and that it was only proper for a lady to consume wine. It was a good thing that the only beverages being had at the time were Frosty’s.
I unsuccessfully attempted to engage this friend in a dialogue about the matter. I argued that drinking habits are often influenced by family, social construct and even social class. I appealed to time and place, affluence and poverty, availability and popularity – all to no avail. Finally, I pleaded with taste. Beer goes with burgers and pizza! Wine does not!
How much of our convictions are shaped by our surroundings? I think about the more liberal-ish and social gospel churches I know and it draws to mind friends with tattoos, piercings, and other ways of living that are “gray areas,” but that my more conservative Christian friends might find distasteful or questionable. I think about interactions between my friends of the opposite sex that would be detrimental to my witness in some contexts but not in others. More so, I think of the passing judgment that we dole out, without thinking of the consequences to the Church as a whole, and wonder if many of these are Romans 14 issues. In that light, I wonder how I am to respond when I know that I should respect someone’s convictions, however much I disagree with them. I’m upset by how much this makes me conscious of my actions around said friend, and irritated that I’ve let it upset me.
More importantly, I’m still struggling to find a wine that goes with burgers. My roommate, thankfully, found one that goes with pizza. Whew.
15 August 2007
Transition, and preparation
I'm settling in to a new living abode. I've been here three weeks; it's finally starting to feel like home, although I'm still not fond of my commute to work.
This afternoon, I have a second interview with the organization I really, really, really want to work for. There was some up-and-down last week with their two offices going back and forth over whether or not I'd be able to work via internet/Skype. Their main office is in the UK, and I'd be working at a branch office here in the US. We'll see if it works out this afternoon.
I'm also in the process of preparing for classes in a few weeks. I just put all the books for ST VI in my Amazon basket, and combined with the Hebrew text book, my total is right at $100. Not bad at all!
So, in a brief span of time, I've moved and could possibly be changing jobs, all while starting school full time in about 3 weeks. Whew. It's been emotional at times, and I'm reminded to stay close to the Word. (Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Mad Eye Moody's "Constant Vigilance!")
Here's what I'll be reading for ST IV: Ecclesiology & Sacraments this semester. Likely than not, it will influence both the content and frequency of my posting.
1. Geerhardus Vos, The Kingdom of God and the Church
2. Richard B. Gaffin, Perspectives On Pentecost
3. Edmund P. Clowney, The Church
4. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. F. L. Battles, Book 4, Chapters 1-20.
5. Edmund P. Clowney, “The Politics of the Kingdom,” Westminster Theological Journal 41:2 (1979): 291-310.
6. Richard B. Gaffin, "Theonomy and Eschatology: Reflections on Postmillennialism," from Theonomy, A Reformed Critique, 197-224.
7. Edmund P. Clowney, “The Final Temple” Westminster Theological Journal 35 (1973): 156-189.
8. The Westminster Confession of Faith, Chapters 20-23, 25-31.
9. Vern S. Poythress, "Indifferentism and Rigorism in the Church: With Implications for Baptizing Small Children," Westminster Theological Journal 59 (1997), 13-29.
10. Vern S. Poythress, "Linking Small Children With Infants in the Theology of Baptizing,” Westminster Theological Journal 59 (1997), 143-58.
11. John Murray, The Covenant of Grace: A Biblico-Theological Study
13. John Murray, Christian Baptism
14. The Mystery of the Lord’s Supper, Sermons by Robert Bruce, ed. and trans. Thomas F. Torrance
This afternoon, I have a second interview with the organization I really, really, really want to work for. There was some up-and-down last week with their two offices going back and forth over whether or not I'd be able to work via internet/Skype. Their main office is in the UK, and I'd be working at a branch office here in the US. We'll see if it works out this afternoon.
I'm also in the process of preparing for classes in a few weeks. I just put all the books for ST VI in my Amazon basket, and combined with the Hebrew text book, my total is right at $100. Not bad at all!
So, in a brief span of time, I've moved and could possibly be changing jobs, all while starting school full time in about 3 weeks. Whew. It's been emotional at times, and I'm reminded to stay close to the Word. (Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Mad Eye Moody's "Constant Vigilance!")
Here's what I'll be reading for ST IV: Ecclesiology & Sacraments this semester. Likely than not, it will influence both the content and frequency of my posting.
1. Geerhardus Vos, The Kingdom of God and the Church
2. Richard B. Gaffin, Perspectives On Pentecost
3. Edmund P. Clowney, The Church
4. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. F. L. Battles, Book 4, Chapters 1-20.
5. Edmund P. Clowney, “The Politics of the Kingdom,” Westminster Theological Journal 41:2 (1979): 291-310.
6. Richard B. Gaffin, "Theonomy and Eschatology: Reflections on Postmillennialism," from Theonomy, A Reformed Critique, 197-224.
7. Edmund P. Clowney, “The Final Temple” Westminster Theological Journal 35 (1973): 156-189.
8. The Westminster Confession of Faith, Chapters 20-23, 25-31.
9. Vern S. Poythress, "Indifferentism and Rigorism in the Church: With Implications for Baptizing Small Children," Westminster Theological Journal 59 (1997), 13-29.
10. Vern S. Poythress, "Linking Small Children With Infants in the Theology of Baptizing,” Westminster Theological Journal 59 (1997), 143-58.
11. John Murray, The Covenant of Grace: A Biblico-Theological Study
13. John Murray, Christian Baptism
14. The Mystery of the Lord’s Supper, Sermons by Robert Bruce, ed. and trans. Thomas F. Torrance
15 July 2007
Sunday Worship
Sometimes, Sundays feel too harried and forced, and I find myself in a dilemma of whether or not corporate worship will do more good than harm. I'm put off by the routine, the primping and labor of going to church, fellowshiping at lunch, church again, and another social activity on top of that. I find an unnatural pressure to fill the entire day with fellowship-related events. Granted, if I felt like that every Sunday, it might be cause for concern, and generally I am all for Sunday corporate worship. But, I do find I must prioritize what my other Sunday activities will be, and on this end, I seem to be coming across as anti-social. 
However, if I do not have some sense that I've rested on the Sabbath, my week is far more stressful, for myself, and for those around me. I maintain a loose definition of rest, and I completely understand that my idea of rest differs from another. For some, spending the day full of gatherings with family and friends is restful. For me, if I do not spend at least one day alone a week, my mental and emotional well-being suffers dramatically. In fact, if I don't get that time to myself, to regroup, process, and allow the introvert in me to recharge, I can easily become so nasty that I alienate friends and am entirely unpleasant company.
So today, after an intense week of too many activities, and camping all weekend with friends, I took a break. What I find frustrating is that twinge of remorse - not that I should have been at church, but that I've disappointed people. This has lessened as I've grown more, and understood the ramifications of me not resting. And I'm reminded that Jesus modeled this balance of community fellowship with times of individual reflection and isolation. If I did not guard this time, if I did not in some way make it a holy offering between me and my Lord, I'd be unable to fully give myself to the church, my friends, my week, my job, etc., without causing irreparable damage to myself, or to those relationships I cherish. But, this is not always easily explained, for lack of ability to articulate it in words that make sense, in my critical self-view. I find myself fearing that a tone of voice hints either hurt feelings or condescension when I have to say "No" to activities, but I don't know how to communicate that it's actually because I so value fellowship that at times I must remove myself from it, in order to be a productive contributor to it.
04 July 2007
Disobedience, Moving, and Harry Potter
"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.” Matthew 7:7-8
Twice I listened to Piper’s sermon on this passage. And it took twice for it to sink in: it’s not all about asking. I’m great at that asking part. Crying over earthly things I know I can’t afford. Begging, pleading, fasting, throwing what amounts to a spiritual tantrum, and even feeling justified in doing so – why would He give me these desires if He had no intention of fulfilling them?
And then I came face to face with my disobedience. After an emotionally trying experience, I realized that I’d been waiting on the decisions of another to move forward. While I was actively seeking G-d’s will in the situation, I wasn’t actively seeking His will for me. I prided myself on being flexible and adaptable, when no matter what; I should have been following the Lord’s lead for my life. Even more so when that made it clear that my path was here, not there.
Now I saw the connection between asking and seeking… but knocking? Why did I never realize this verb meant action on my part? That’s not to say that I can make the door open; it’s just to say that there must be some element of proactively doing on our part. It’s wise to see the order here. Only after pouring out our hearts and listening for His lead can we really have a sense of where to knock. But I’d had that sense for a while, and I was stubbornly ignoring it, though it really was what I truly desired.
I wanted to go back to school, full-time, and to make it financially plausible, I wanted to do it for free. I felt selfish in asking this. Don’t I have enough degrees? I should be happy with what I’ve got, and if the Lord wants me to do this later (i.e., after raising a family), then maybe it will work out then. I’d projected my own timeline onto the situation, hoping that my first desire (husband and family) would come first (duh), and that the second desire (to teach), could wait. So, I didn’t knock. I even knew where the door was and didn’t knock.
Until two weeks ago, that is. I called up the director of the seminary affiliated with my church and asked to meet with him to talk. I had outlined my questions, concerns, and what would need to happen for me to be able to pursue an MA in Religion. First, I wanted to make sure all of the courses would be offered in a two-year span, to ensure I wouldn’t be spending 6 years completing another degree. Second, I wanted to make sure I could fit in Hebrew and Greek without having to take extra credits. Third, I “needed” a full scholarship. I have too much school debt already to tack on more. And finally, I really wanted a new job that would be flexible with my class schedule, pay the bills, and maybe even be in my field.
I knew it was a tall order. But I had to knock and see if the door opened, and trust that if this really was where the Lord wanted me, He would provide.
I sat down at the meeting two weeks ago, and the director answered ever one of my questions before I’d asked. Yes, he was obligated to offer the full rotation of MA classes in a two-year cycle, and Greek and Hebrew are the exact number of elective credit hours to complete the program. He also needed a Special Events Coordinator, and because of my TA position last semester, he knew I would be great at orchestrating their Spring Concert, lecture series, and graduation. And, he would give me full tuition to do so. He also happens to be on the board of an organization that works with persecuted Christians in the Muslim world, and low and behold, he knew they were looking to hire on more folks – specifically someone with writing skills and knowledge of the Middle East. In fact, when he’d read my paper for the Islam class, it confirmed that I would be an excellent candidate for the job.
I don’t have the job in the bank, yet. It may not come through at all. But I know I’ll be in school this fall, studying what I love to prepare me to do what I’ll love. And I know that I’ll be moving at the end of July, to a townhouse that’s closer to school, potentially closer to the new job and with three other girls from church. Moving was not a necessity; especially since I don’t know if I’ll get this job or not, and if I don’t, I’ll be adding a significant commute to my current job. It’s also caused a great deal of anxiety, as I look around my apartment, where I’ve grown extremely comfortable in the last three years. This is home. I’ve been here longer than any one place since I was fifteen. But if I don’t leave now, I fear I’ll become complacent. I’ll wake up five years from now, in the same dead-end job, in the same apartment, stuck in a rut.
Some change is good. Multiple changes are stressful. And I find myself seeking refuge not in the Lord, where I should be, but in Harry Potter. Sad but true. I know I’m distracting myself, not wanting to deal with the emotional drain of a relationship let-down, the packing and sorting of moving, or the prospects of changing jobs. You would think after just learning a lesson in disobedience, after seeing the Lord open doors and growing deeper in an understanding of what it means to trust in Him, that I would be most keen on spending my spare time in His word, with Him. But I’ve been sucked into the world of wizards and Muggles, the timeless saga of good versus evil, and the challenge of trying to catch up before book seven’s release. Lest you fret I’ve gone too far, there’s a great dialogue on Christians and HP here.
Back to this passage in Matthew: I think the repetition – ask, seek, knock – speaks highly to our human nature. It’s simple and instructive. And it’s clearly something we have to come back to, over and over again.
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