Meaning? Less?

"Meaningless! Meaningless!" says the Teacher.

"Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless."

Ecclesiastes 1:2

Ecclesiastes is often seen as a depressing book. For whatever reason, the writer is always going around saying that everything is meaningless. And then he says it again. And again. And again.

You get the picture.

And he's right. There is a lot of meaninglessness in this world. I was watching something yesterday on television called the "U.S. Open of Competitive Eating." It consisted of a bunch of people trying to find out who could gorge themselves with the most food.

Yet people are starving all around the world. Where's the meaning in that? For that matter, where's the meaning in war? Where's the meaning in the same old political arguments rehashed again and again? Where's the meaning in trying as hard as you can at something and yet still failing?

I could go on.

But I think there's something more here that he's saying--something more that God is speaking through the Scripture.

For despite all that the world throws at us, all that comes our way and makes think that we're just spinning around in circles...we're still alive. We are still here. And no matter what our lot is in life, there are still things God has given us to enjoy.

I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God.

Ecclesiastes 3:12-13

They might be small things, simple pleasures that in the grand scheme of things are unimportant...but still they and others like them are gifts of God, littles graces along the way that point us to the grace behind all of this too often meaningless life. Things like family. Things like friends. Things like sunshine. Things like snowflakes. Without at least some of these, the meaningless that is would quickly overtake us.

Can enjoying such things make an eternal difference? I guess not in the most rigid sense. But then I suppose there are other parts of Scripture that point to those considerations.

What we see here is a pure and simple biblical ethic of enjoyment...of contentment...of life. A chance to rest in what God has given us and not vainly strive after what isn't ours in the first place.

It's a lesson we all ought to remember.

Getting It Wrong

There's a brief episode near the beginning of the book of Joshua that I kind of like.

You see, there's a battle ahead for Israel. A battle to claim the land God promised them. Many obstacles stand in their way, including numerous enemy peoples who wan nothing more than to wipe them from the face of the earth.

And here we find Israel's leader Joshua, looking towards the spot of the approaching battle.

Then a mysterious man appears with a sword. It might be an angel...but right here we don't know. Whatever the case, it seems that Joshua is not entirely sure what is happening. He asks,"Are you for us, or for our enemies'?"

In general, this is a good question. We need to know who is on our side so that we can plan ahead and think things through.

But here, it's the wrong question.

The answer given to Joshua by this interloper is a haunting one. It tosses aside his assumptions about getting supporters on his side and calls into question the manner in which he is looking at everything.

It is simply this:

"Neither," he replied, "but as commander of the army of the LORD I have now come."

In one sentence, this stranger changes everything. He basically lets Joshua know that he needs to stop worrying about what others--including God--are doing for him and start worrying about what he is doing for the Lord.

So whose side are we on? What assumptions do we make? How many times do I assume that I need people--that I need God on my side to be right? To win an argument? To justify myself?

As Christians, we like to speak for God an awful lot. I guess in some ways I'm trying to speak for God as I write this journal. And there's good reason for all of this. We know God. We have a relationship with Him. We pray and read the Scripture He has given us. It just kind of makes sense.

But sometimes....sometimes we start to see things as Joshua may have. We begin to need people, or things, or God to be on our side or not. We need to be right. We start to speak entirely for God and filter everything through that lens. We don't take time to listen.

When Joshua asked his question, he may have been thinking this way. But he was forced to listen, told in no uncertain terms that God was on no one's side. That the only one who truly spoke for God is God.

That we'd better be on God's side.

When Joshua heard this he fell facedown. Dare we do any different?

Evangelism Implosion (Part Three)

When it comes to telling people about my faith--i.e. spreading the good news that is not just an old Christian cliche but actually is good news--I'm coming to the conclusion that all I can be is honest.

That means I can't trick people into believing, I mustn't force them into faith, I won't badger them until they surrender, and I probably shouldn't scare them into choosing. To do any one of those things puts far too much emphasis on my own powers of persuasion and cheapens the real experience of faith.

I do not want people to simply "join the team" and say a few special words. I want them to have a relationship with God in Christ.

You can't force that on anyone.

What we can do, I think, is be honest. Share about our faith when the situation arises. Share about God's work in our lives. Not in some unnatural and scripted way, but as the normal outflowing of our experience. When we are happy about something, we tell people about it. It's as natural as breathing. Is our experience of the gospel any different?

If our faith is--as we Christians say--who we are, then it should affect all of our lives. We should talk about it whenever we think about it, every time we walk through life or make decisions or are concerned about the needs of those around us. We may still be timid about doing this, but it is who we are. It is who we have been called to be.

When someone hurts, we know we ought to help and pray. When someone asks our opinion, we must be honest and share it. When the crowd goes one way, we must go the way that Christ calls us.

We shouldn't be afraid of what others think. We're not trying to bully anyone into belief. We're not trying to be different for the sake of being contrary. We are just sharing our thoughts.

And it's not about pressure or guilt or coercion. It's about honesty.

Maybe this is a part of what St. Francis was getting at. We don't need to put the pressure on ourselves to convince people of the gospel. Maybe we can convince their minds--but their souls? That's a power we do not have.

We just have to be faithful. We have to live Christ--a life that affects us deeply, in deeds, actions, and--as opportunities arise--words.

Now that's some good news.

"But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect..."
1 Peter 3:15

Evangelism Implosion (Part Two)

Yep, I was happy. Sort of.

Happy in the sense that I now had some justification for not being a constant Billy Graham. Happy that I didn't have to stick my neck out there and garner the scorn of those around me.

Happy that I could just hide in the corner and do my own thing.

However, while part of me reveled in this new permission to remain silent, I think another part of me felt I actually had to proclaim something--not just stand around, be nice, and hope that people would say "Oh, he's a Christian." I don't think this is what the Apostle Paul--or any of the leaders of the early Church--were doing.

The intent of Francis' admonition to proclaim the gospel through actions was for many a corrective against preaching about faith and then never living it. But for a person who was timid about talking about faith in the beginning, it helped hamstring me.

And I understand what Francis wanted--lives that point to Christ. Without that, words are often meaningless. And he's right--they should be used only as needed.

The problem is, I know somehow that words are necessary far more than my timid soul allows.

Regardless of how aggressive or insensitive some churches are in proclaiming their witness, I feel that much of the time the motivation this springs from is essentially correct. They are concerned about others and want to help them. Maybe they say too much or in the wrong way, but at least they are saying something.

Do I think the methods used by many to talk about God are flawed? Yes. But if there were only the choice of doing things their way or not speaking at all? We'd have to do things their way.

Thankfully, its not an either/or decision in this case. There are many ways to talk about Jesus--as many as there are people.

So then....if I am to share God's love in a new way while beginning to move out of my timidity, how do I do this?

Well, that's a story for another day.

(to be continued...)

Evangelism Implosion (Part One)

Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words.

--St. Francis of Assisi--

I like Saint Francis. I do. But I worry about the overuse of this quotation in contemporary circles. I think in certain hands it might be the most damaging thing possible to the Christian witness.

Let me explain.

Like many I grew up in a conservative church that, whether they intended it or not, made me feel guilty that I wasn't aggressively confronting people about their journey towards Hell and how they might avoid it. It seemed as if the only type of Christian witness I ever knew about was something akin to a kind of badgering.

Never mind if this was the right approach to things. Never mind that certain people wouldn't respond to the these methods or read the tracts I was supposed to be handing them. What mattered was that we were putting ourselves on the line for Christ.

I felt a little timid jumping into this type of evangelism. Maybe I was afraid. Maybe I was ashamed. All I knew is that I couldn't do what everyone else seemed to be doing. It petrified me.

I think a lot of my peers in evangelical circles felt this way.

We were caught between a genuine desire to see people find truth and love in Christ and a tendency to shy away from some of the more aggressive tactics we heard about from the pulpit or from other Christian speakers. It seemed that the fault was ours. Why weren't we fulfilling the Great Commission, after all? Why weren't we going up to everyone and asking them where they were going when they died?

Then I found something easier. I found I could preach the gospel without words.

Boy, was I happy.

(to be continued...)

The Passion of the Christian

"When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die."

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

What does it mean to have a passion for God? What does it mean to be passionate for the things of Christ?

The first thing I think of is something akin to an emotional frenzy. Being whipped up into a religious fervor and maintaining that state indefinitely.

And believe me, I don't mean that in a bad way. I of all people know I need a good kick in the pants.

Being "on fire" in this way and so fulfilling God's call to love and service is something I desire in my life. It is something that I have experienced at points. It is the mountaintop from whose vantage point everything else seems but a lowly valley.

But I'm not certain it can be there all the time with the same intensity.

Plus, I have a suspicion that real passion is deeper than that, anyway.

So if passion for God isn't just emotional energy, what more is it? What is it in the quiet times, the in-between times?

It is probably a lot of things. Mostly, I think it is a steady march in the same direction. A deep seated commitment and trust that carries with it a depth of emotional feeling and so much more. A trust that pushes through, no matter the cost and no matter what I'm feeling.

Whenever I think that passion is just an emotion--I need to stop and think about Christ's Passion. For Jesus, it was a time of the deepest depth of emotion, but all the same it was a slow and steady journey to fulfill His purpose.

If anyone wishes to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me.

Luke 9:23

Perhaps as with Christ on the way to the Cross, true passion for God can drive to the core of our emotions because it calls out for the deepest of commitments.

American Idols

Based on the recommendation of my friend Christine, I've been reading through some books by Donald Miller.

In Searching For God Knows What, Miller spends some time talking about the difference between the God of systems and formulas that everyone seems to know exhaustively and every televangelist and politician tries to speak for incessantly, and the true God who is bigger and wider and deeper than anything we could hope to control.

He talks about a God he fears--not in a negative way, but because the One who is above all else is so radically different than us makes knowledge of Him an awe-inspiring and terror-rific experience.

I don't know what to compare it to. Maybe you could compare it to a single bacteria cell in its little bacteria world realizing the complexity that is the human being.

And I'm sure that doesn't even come close to the difference between God and us.

Yet because we like things we can control, we try to make the Almighty God whose ways are not our ways fit into our systems and try to tell others we know what He is thinking all the time.

We just want something we can grasp onto.

I've just graduated from seminary. Theology is my thing, I suppose. In its simplest state, it means "words about God." But so many times it can become more than that. So many times it can rationally and logically take the place of the God who is far beyond my silly logic. And that's not right.

Miller writes,

"...if our brokenness will be fixed, not by our understanding of theology, but
by God telling us who we are, then this would require a kind of intimacy of
which only heaven knows. Imagine, a Being with a mind as great as God's with
feet like trees and a voice like rushing wind, telling you that you are His
cherished creation."

Theology is nice and has its place. But I think that in a lot of ways I'm getting off that train.



Knowing the God of the Bible, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob may be at times a confusing, frustrating, and fearful thing, but its much better than the silly god I try to systematize in my head.

"O LORD, my strength and my fortress, my refuge in time of distress, to you the nations will come from the ends of the earth and say, 'Our fathers possessed nothing but false gods, worthless idols that did them no good. Do men make their own gods? Yes, but they are not gods!'"

Jeremiah 16:19-20

The Second Time Around

If I was only able to select four books of the Bible to have for the rest of my life, it would probably go something like this: Psalms, one of the gospels, Romans, and Deuteronomy.

My NIV Study Bible tells me that the word Deuteronomy means "repetitition of the law."

Rather than look it up, I'm just going to take their word for it.

I like this book. Moses is reminding his people of their calling and relationship with God in the waning years of his life, recalling the covenant God made with those gathered before him.

Basically, a few last words before Moses is to go up and die on Mount Nebo.

I don't think I realized how much I liked this book until I started reading through it recently.

It's moving because you can just imagine Moses gearing up one last time to tell the story, one last time to remind all Israel of what they are.

The word remember appears 16 times in the book of Deuteronomy. Remember you were slaves in Egypt. Remember what God did for you. Remember the days of old.

It's all there, calling the wandering sons and daughters of Abraham to look back as they looked forward to a Promised Land. In many ways, without their memory of God's work, they were nothing. No people, no calling, no assurances, no faith. Just a group of ragtag wanderers.

They needed to remember.

To call this book a "repetition of the law" seems a bit underwhelming, for it is so much more than that. It is an invitation to remember with one's soul, to remember with one's heart...to see all things through the eyes of faith.

I need to remember, too.

Poetic License

Sometime in the last year, a Christian musical group issued a statement that they were not going to create any songs with lyrics that were hard to understand or too intricate or complex. Out of a desire to say exactly what they were thinking, they decided to make their songs clear and obvious.

When I heard about this, I thought two things. First, I understood their desire to be true to their convictions and speak the truth as clearly as possible. Many times it is possible to hide behind aesthetics or create lyrics so intricate or obscure that they never say anything at all. For those wishing to speak to others about the truth of God's work in their life, it makes sense to talk plainly.

On the other hand, I miss poetry. I need it.

I need beauty.
I need mystery.
I need to feel real longing.

Plain words don't always provide this.

Sometimes I feel that to speak of Truth...to speak of God...to speak of life in any other terms than mystery is profoundly misguided.

One of the reasons I like music or art or anything else that has a complicated and mysterious message is because it is complicated. Because it requires work. Because, as my friend Jen commented, it allows us in our efforts to find meaning the ability to gain insight into and ask interesting questions of our own meanings--the truths that God has shown to us.

All this came about because of the song "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen. Among other things, it's a haunting melody used at the end of the Shrek movie. Here are some of the lyrics:

Now I've heard there was a secret chord/ That David played, and it pleased the Lord/ But you don't really care for music, do you?/ It goes like this/ The fourth, the fifth/ The minor fall, the major lift/ The baffled king composing Hallelujah/ Hallelujah/ Hallelujah/ Hallelujah/

I don't know what it's all about, but I do know this: its beautiful and somehow true and makes me think of things I wouldn't have before listening to it.

And that's a good thing...

You Call This Archaeology?

There's a great scene in the movie Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Near the end of the film, a villain shoots Indiana's father, forcing our hero to take a perilous journey through a booby-trapped complex to recover a magical artifact that will save his father's life.

The last challenge he faces is a gaping chasm. With no way to the other side and his only clue an obscure reference to proving one's faith by leaping, he closes his eyes and steps off the edge. Based on what he sees, there is no reason to believe he will survive...but it is all he can do.

It is this view of faith--a blind leap--that seems to pervade current discussions. Whether in conversation, films, or the popular mind, faith is seen as something that one does "just because," despite all evidence to the contrary. Often there is no rhyme or reason because the preeminent concern is that one believes in something. Faith, many say, is not supposed to make sense or exist for any reason. It is supposed to be blind.

It just is.

While there are perhaps facets of this view that make sense to me, it also seems to be a bit of a sad place to live. Faith for faith's sake is a primarily empty experience. It's like trying to lie to yourself over and over again just to get by.

No matter what the movies may tell us, I can't believe that simply "having faith" is enough.

I think we have to have faith in something, as Jesus says in John 5:2-4

"The man who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The watchman opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice."

How different this is than blindly leaping off the edge or forcing oneself to believe in something without reason. How different from the type of faith many assume to be standard.

The Christian believes because they have heard the voice of the shepherd--of Christ--and respond to it. That voice can be heard in many different ways, but it provides an "evidence" that ensures we never blindly step into the dark alone.

This is faith.

Sunrise/Sunset

Today while in Huntington, West Virginia I helped my friend Josh with a charity project. During our time on the site, we met a young man of 17 who was getting ready to begin his first year at Ohio State University.

I commented to Josh that it's been 7 years since I faced the same situation. Seven long years.

The world looked different then. I looked different then. As I've journeyed along the way, time and Providence have molded me, expanded my horizons, and brought both joy and pain.

There's a quotation from a television show I have enjoyed watching in the past. In it, an old ruler nearing the end of life utters the following phrase:

"The past tempts us, the present confuses us and the future frightens us..."

I'm kind of sentimental. Sometimes I like to think what would have happened and what would happen still had I gone back and done things over the past 7 years a little differently. What would have happened if I did things over again...

It might be fun.

But God in His wisdom does not allow this to happen. I don't know why, but I know it must be for a good reason. I am given now, right now. Perhaps when Jesus spoke of not worrying about tomorrow, he also meant not to worry about yesterday either. After all, as he said, today has enough troubles and concerns of its own.

My friend Josh told me it was an exciting time for the young man we met today. I agree. I remember how it was for me.

And even though I cannot now see as much of that excitement as I had in the summer of 1998, I'm certain there's probably some of that giddy youthful exuberance left somewhere.

The present may confuse us, but at least I can trust in the One whole controls all of life. After all, what'll happen in seven more years?

Lifting Up Those Moses Hands

One of my favorite passages from the Book of Exodus is this:

"So Joshua fought the Amalekites as Moses had ordered, and Moses, Aaron, and Hur went to the top of a hill. As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up--one on one side, one on the other--so that his hands remained steady till sunset. So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword." (Exodus 17:10-13)

Very simply, it shows how even the great leader Moses needed others around him.

Without others to help us in life and in our walk with God, our hopes of success would probably be somewhat slimmer. I know mine would.

In the long run, I can't imagine a life lived in fullness without the presence of others holding us up. Ask any pastor, any administrator, any businessperson--any human being. It just doesn't seem possible.

With the presence of friends and companions along the way, much more can be done. Goals can be achieved that were once out of reach. Battles can be won that seem hopeless. Comfort can be given where before there was none.

And if community is in general such a powerful force, how much more so in the Church. In the Church--and I mean the true Church that is Christ's body empowered by His Spirit, not simply some fancy building with air conditioning and bulletins and ladies in doilied dresses--in the Church that is the body of Christ we are called and have the opportunity to do just what Aaron and Hur did for Moses. We are blessed to allow others to help us fulfill our lives' calling and service for God, just as we are called to lift up others.

That's how I think the Lord wants things to be done. He has bound us together for just such a purpose.

It may sound idealistic. I just think its true:

"All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their
possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need." (Acts 2:44-45)

Traveling Man

I'm off for a bit of soul-searching on the open road, visiting some good friends in West Virginia and Western New York.

If I get a chance, I hope to post some thoughts during the trip. At least, that's the plan.

Mr. Spock Takes A Holiday

A friend of mine from seminary asked me the other day about the practice of speaking in tongues. He had a few different questions, so I did the best I could to provide some of the answers he was looking for.

As we were talking, I began to realize how silly and uncomfortable I felt about my answers. And I knew it was not a lack of belief that held me back, for I trust firmly in the work of the Holy Spirit in my life. In many ways, it had more to do with the fact that I wasn't able to provide an intellectually defensible system that would stand up to scrutiny.


So because I couldn't be as logical as the situation required, I felt foolish. I guess that's what seminary has done to my already too logical mind over the past three years--made everything I believe have to fit into little systems and structures that are intricate as they are respectable.

Mr. Spock would be proud.

But life isn't like that, and neither is my relationship with God. Whether I speak of God's comfort or His guidance or praising God in tongues...it is all true. It is all real. But good luck trying to be able to explain that in any way that makes sense.

I guess during my recent conversation I was reminded that many times, the only way to truly understand a thing is to be intimately involved in it.

Consider for a minute the reasons why we love another person. Do any of those reasons ever come close to the depth of our hearts? Hardly.

In the same way, I can't help but think that I need to step away from the seminary mindset and simply throw myself in the arms of the One who will never let me fall.

This may not make any sense to those looking for systems and theories, but it does make sense to me. It makes sense because God has spoken to me, God has touched me, and God holds me in the palm of His hand. It makes sense because in spite of the fact that I can't give you any hard evidence to back me up, its true. In the end, maybe that is all I can say.

Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.

Psalm 34:8

Josh Meets "Girl Meets God"

I'm currently reading through a book entitled Girl Meets God. It's sort of a contemporary memoir of a young woman who converts from Orthodox Judaism to Christianity. Though only about 50 pages in so far, it seems to be an open and honest look at how she grew--and is growing--to hear God's voice.

As she speaks of her gradual move to faith, author Lauren F. Winner reminds us of God's plan:

"that is how the clues God leaves sometimes work. Sometimes nothing comes of them. Sometimes, as in a great novel, you cannot see until you get to the end that God was leaving clues for you all along. How did I miss it? Surely any idiot should have been able to see from the second chapter that it was Miss Scarlet in the conservatory with a rope."

With apologies to CLUE, I know that she's right. Though there are--thankfully--moments in which we discover God's will in the midst of our journey, there are many other moments when we do not. The ways in which God molds and shapes and direct us are often impossible for us to understand--or even know--while they are happening. But they are happening, and happening for a reason.

It's not something that can be logically explained or systematically described. I'm not sure it should be. It's more like a song, or a poem, or a painting--things with layers and ripples and nooks and crannies that require a great deal of effort to appreciate. Only when we have spend time looking at all of it and immersing ourselves in it can we start to see the beauty behind it all.

Though I feel in my heart that God is beginning to show me the path forward in some definite ways, I don't understand it all. Even the clarity I am beginning to see is only one part of a much bigger puzzle.

To put it a different way, I don't know exactly where this song is going...but something about the tune makes me smile.

Signs

I've been spending a lot of time lately asking God to tell me what His will is for my life. A lot of time. I even went so far the other day to ask for a sign--a dangerous proposition, I know...but nevertheless, there I was.

As far as I can remember, I've never really received a bona fide sign from God before. Don't get me wrong--God has been there alongside me and guiding me all the while, but never in a way that was clear-cut or divinely revealed to me. Like all of us, how I have wished for that type of clarity many times before.

Maybe it was my desperation this time that made the difference. God's been speaking to me, and in this instance, providing signs to help point out the direction I should take. The choices I have to make are still difficult ones and there is still a lot I don't know, but each passing confirmation that God numbers my steps is starting to make this fork in the road less anxious and more faith-full.

I find all of this an amazing and humbling experience. What was I thinking, telling God to give me a sign? Who am I, after all, to demand things of the Almighty?

He heard my cry, for I am, despite everything...His child.

Blood, Guts, and Faith

Leviticus 3:2-5

He is to lay his hand on the head of his offering and slaughter it at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting. Then Aaron's sons the priests shall sprinkle the blood against the altar on all sides. From the fellowship offering he is to bring a sacrifice made to the LORD by fire: all the fat that covers the inner parts or is connected to them, both kidneys with the fat on them near the loins, and the covering of the liver, which he will remove with the kidneys. Then Aaron's sons are to burn it on the altar on top of the burnt offering that is on the burning wood, as an offering made by fire, an aroma pleasing to the LORD.

I've recently begun re-reading through Scripture, and I've discovered something. I don't know if I ever realized how bloody the book of Leviticus is.

For a man who is used to going to the grocery store to buy a piece a meat from an animal he's never seen before and has never given any thought to, the words of the Bible are, well, a little shocking.

It at first reminded me of the end of the movie Apocalypse Now. Near the end of film's journey, the main character finds himself among native peoples who sacrifice a cow. It is my understanding that an actual animal was killed for the purpose of this scene--the last time anything like that was ever done for a movie. It is a tough scene to watch...but in its graphic nature it speaks to the reality of Leviticus.

For despite the fact that the nature of all of this seems far removed from our modern culture, for most of human history animal sacrifice was a part of life. Whether they wanted it to or not, death and life were constantly played out before everyone. There was no sanitizing it, ignoring it, or denying it.

In many ways I'm glad that the Christian life does not involve making animal sacrifice a common practice. But in another way, I think there is a great deal we miss by not being forced to to vividly confront the forces of sin, life and death in our own bodies and souls and in relationship with God.

It is far too easy to pay attention to things like clever sermon illustrations, favorite hymns, youth group games, people dressed in their finest on a Sunday morning while ignoring the deep background of all that is going on. Far too easy.

Thankfully, Leviticus doesn't let me of the hook, but reminds me what is really at stake--the struggles of death and life in ourselves, in our world, and the depths to which God is divinely involved in the process of redemption.

For as Leviticus reminds and God in Christ proves on the Cross,

"...the life a creature is in the blood..." (Leviticus 17:11)

At the very least, its something for me to think about the next time I'm at a summer barbecue.

Just Stuff

We did something a little different for the youth meeting tonight. Only a few showed up, so we went for ice cream and then had our meeting outside on Nassau Street (on the steps of Nassau Presbyterian Church, no less!) ----->

s

It was nice to be outside for a change of pace. Plus, it really made me think about our calling to be witnesses in the world. Praising God in the open air with the acoustic guitar and sharing from God's Word.

s

That's what its all about.

s

This week's youth lesson is taken from the passage in Luke 12:13-21 referred to as "The Parable of the Rich Fool." A man spends all his time planning to store his possessions, only to find out that his life is ending that very night.

Lots of stuff clutters our life. Lots of possessions. For instance, do you know how many hours I've wasted watching DVDs? Acquiring used books? Buying junk nobody needs? Not to mention the intangible things that keep us from truly living our lives and truly living for God.

I can't help but be reminded of the recent movie American Beauty. In the film, a suburban couple have reached middle age and face some huge problems in their relationship. At one point, the husband seems to attempt a kind of reconciliation and kisses his wife in their living room. In response, she becomes alarmed that he might spill the glass of wine he's holding.

Upon realizing that the condition of a sofa--maybe the maintenance of the status quo--was more important to her than beginning to rebuild their tattered marriage, the husband utters the following:

"This isn't life, it's just stuff. And it's become more important to you than living. Well, honey, that's just nuts."

I think he's right. When anything gets in the way of really, honestly living...that's nuts.

s

For me, living most truly means that "To live is Christ and to die is gain." When I let anything get in the way of truly living for God, praying, studying the Scriptures, loving my neighbors and enemies and showing Christ's love...well, that's not just nuts.

s

Its tragic.

Pictures of You

A lengthy conversation in the past week has made me reflect on two different pictures.

One of them used to hang in my home church. It's called Der Breite und der Schmale Weg, a visual depiction of Jesus' reflection on the wide and narrow roads in Matthew 7:13-14. I rescued it from being thrown away, reframed it, and its been a part of my life ever since. Though sometimes I don't look at it as closely as I should, it's a reminder to me.



The second picture is Rembrandt's The Return of the Prodigal Son. I guess as much as the wide and narrow ways have been with me all this time, Rembrandt's depiction of Jesus' parable has been with author Henri Nouwen even longer. In his book about the painting, he takes the reader on a spiritual journey through the story, the picture, and Rembrandt's life as well as his own.

We are the younger rebellious son. We are the older, resentful son. We all must turn to the Father who only has love and seek to be that love to others.


Grace and responsibility. Our duty to God and His love that transcends anything we do. It's confusing and comforting and crazy all at once.

Maybe we're just as lost walking the narrow way as the wide way if we do so without looking to Him. The younger son walked a broad and dangerous path that did him harm. The older son walked a much narrower one, but at the same time he did, he did it alone. Though his brother lived a life free of the rules and principles that would keep him safe, it may be that the older son lived a cold life, devoid of anything but rules and regulations.

Both needed the love of their Father to set them on the truest way.

Maybe admitting our need for this love and learning to live in it is the narrowest path of all.

Every New Beginning

I'm not certain what direction this journal will take, but welcome all who would walk alongside.

I always thought those that had journals like this were pretentious. Maybe some are. But perhaps many are just honest...and that's what I want to be.

So I inaugurate this journal with a thought that is not an original one...but one I need to remember.

"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."

Galatians 2:20