Read for Your Life!

"Behold the days are coming," declares the Lord GOD, when I will send a famine on the land - not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD." - Amos 8:11

I have the words of the LORD on my Kindle now.  Sounds kind of funny doesn't it?

I just bought the Kindle version of ESV Study Bible for eight bucks, and I couldn't be more pleased.  If I spent the next year or so reading through all the tools and gadgets it offers, I would be well served as a minister to youth.  But alas, I've read it all before right?

This is the pitiable attitude of my heart at times.  I have gone into a self-inflicted famine of God's word, and I wonder why my life seems to have lost it's luster.

My guess is that many Christians don't really like being Christians, and one of the primary reasons is that they  have either forgotten, or simply grown tired of reading the words of God.  In scripture we encounter God.  Boom!  Through scripture we meet our maker.  Boom!  But we've turned scripture into chincy placards, pithy advice,  pokey art and references for birthday cards.

However, it is through God's word that God takes us by the hand, leads us up as onto a mountain top, and helps us see  our hope and wildest longings met in his coming kingdom, his promised land (I've been reading a lot of NT Wright).  We look out and behold our hope through these simple words.

Yet, like the people of Israel, I grumble.  I don't want the words of life for food, I want God to fill my belly.  I want God to make me feel good.  I want God to be like my favorite McDonald's joint, quick and easy service, everything I need for a balanced meal, with a quick slide of plastic.  Don't even give me the receipt, I won't read it.

So what an absolute privilege it is to read these words of life on my Kindle, and to be reminded that there's a lot more going on than I'm aware of, but I am invited to come check it out.

What is God up to?  Read on...  

Dropping Coins

"Whoever is wise, let him attend to these things; let him consider the steadfast love of the LORD." - Psalm 107:43

I've had a kid emailing me and asking me a billion and one questions.  I'm signed up to answer questions from one of "Cru"'s evangelistic websites and boy if this kid doesn't just love asking questions.  Ultimately I believe it's a good thing that he asks them, sort of, even if it gets a little annoying to see another message in my inbox every 30 seconds or so.

This morning he was asking me just exactly how much sin someone good get away with and still get into heaven.  I was tempted to reply with "None" and leave it at that.

It can be a little frustrating when you've talked about the cross from a million different angles and someone still doesn't get it.  But none of us get it do we?  Or even if we're hearing the music, we're quick to forget the lyrics, begin to sing off key until someone wiser than us asks us if we know what we were singing in the first place.

That's why I like Psalm 107.  It vividly paints a God who rescues wicked, foolish and evil people.  And then it asks those who are wise to consider this kind of steadfast love.

As soon as I get uppity about answering this kids "stupid" questions, I'm beginning to not reflect my creator.  I'm out of sink with the music of the kingdom.

So I was tempted to tell the kid that with his kind of attitude, he probably isn't going to get into heaven anyway.  Which reminds me of how people often state "If I were God I'd let everyone into heaven."  Come on really!?  Most people would have other people going through the emotional and physical torture tantamount to American Idol contests for the ones they'd want in.  Why do people ever go on American Idol?

The fact is people don't like people much.  It's why we're to consider the wondrous nature of God's steadfast love.  And as the verse above says, we should "attend" to it.

I was also tempted to send the kid the link to our four spiritual laws and be done with his queries once and for all!  Not very incarnational I know, but neither is emailing.  But alas, the better nature that dwells within me wooed me to yet more patience, patience that I don't have, and I sent him yet another angle of my take on the gospel.  We'll see, maybe the coin will drop this time for him, and subsequently as I bear with these sinful youngsters with all their problems, the coin will drop with me - so to am I.

And to keep things interesting I did begin my response with "you can't sin at all and get into heaven".

There Be Dragons

So I finished out Job today.  It's kind of nice to be done with a book that gives me headaches.  It's pretty deep.

One of my favorite parts of Job is when God answers him at the end.  At the end (spoiler alert!) God does an amazing job of illustrating his power and care for nature.  His basic point seems to be, "Hey, you're dealing with God, the creator of everything Job.  My ways may be just a tiny, intsy-wincy bit more mysterious than yours...  Just a little."  It makes for really cool reading.

When God finishes his beautiful description of his ways in nature (I now think Leviathon has to be a dragon, forget all the commentators who think its a crocodile.  I've never seen a croc breath fire or fly.  I did say it was amazing), Job has an understandably short reply.  I like it.

He mumbles a few quotes from God, and then says "I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes."

When I first read this I felt sorry for Job.  Of course the poor guy has been afflicted with every affliction thingy the world has to offer, Satan's buying popsicles and doing cart-wheels over the fun he's having and now God has gone off on a diatribe of who Job is dealing with.  I'd despise not only myself but God if I was Job.  Great!

But that's not at all the way the trajectory of the book of Job takes us.  Job is on a relentless search for God and his justice.  Job wants to be comforted by his God.  And finally, not only does God answer Job, but Job claims with joy, "my eye sees you".  Job's true torture is over and his argument is finally resolved (albeit tempered) by God.  It's a beautiful thing.

My magical ESV study notes helped me out with all this.  They explained that the word for "despise" denotes recognizing one's place and the word for "repent" could also be replaced with the word "comfort".

Job's search for an answer is satisfied by a window into God's world and by supreme comfort in person-hood of God.  I may be over-stating this.  But it seems to fit with the book to think that Job is extremely satisfied at this point.

So where am I going with all of this?  I'm not exactly sure.  I originally wanted to reflect on the inter-changeable nature of the words repent and comfort, but I've sort of just given you a spoiler for the ending of the book of Job.

I guess I, like Job, am comforted today just to know that this God of all creation, even dragons, actually responds to us.  Not only is he aware of everything we struggle with, but he is the God of all our struggles (even the ones Satan does cart-wheels over) and, because of his own righteousness in Jesus, he continues to direct us, vindicate us, validate us, lift us up and ultimately, may I never forget this as the biggest blessing of all, give us himself.  It satisfied Job, so it's good enough for me.


  

Jellyfish!

"This world is full of compound words, speak slower bro or you won't be heard.  If you talk quick you might sound slick, but I might just think you asked me to make you a real jellyfish sandwich, AND YOU'LL DIE!!!" - Julian Smith on the subtleties of the English language and the dangers of eating a jellyfish (check it out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iubJ-XSL9go.)

There is a very tenuous thread of thought that I am trying to find between my morning devotions, which were only about 5 minutes ago, and the quote above.  Hmm...

Oh yeah, I was reading in Proverbs when I noticed that "the teacher" doesn't mince words in the battle of righteousness vs. wickedness.  He contrast's the two like Julian Smith contrasts two words and a compound word.  Julian Smith proposes (in the Youtube music video cited above) that you might want a "jelly fish" sandwich (hey we all have our tastes), but if you make the mistake of asking for a "jellyfish" sandwich, "YOU WILL DIE!"  

Let's look at vs 19 of Proverbs 12:  "Whoever is steadfast in righteousness will live, but he who pursues evil will die."   Come on, that's sort of like Julian Smith's analogy isn't it?  At least give me my thread of thought back.

I am thankful that the teacher of Proverbs paints the ends of righteousness and wickedness in black the black and white terms of life or death.   He's aware of greys (in fact that's what the whole book is about in seeking wisdom) for he warns of all types of wickedness and lifts up and encourages all sorts of righteousness, but he always seems to keep eye on where they lead - life or death.

I typically stroll through my day not thinking in such stark terms.  If I waste a little time here or there at work, do I realize I am meandering down a path that leads to death?  Not really.  And is this even true for the Christian?  Don't we live in the dispensation of grace, and aren't we not supposed to get all caught up in dos and don'ts.  Yes and no.

While I do think we are under grace, phew, I think it is really important that we think about the small steps we make in life.  I would call them "steps of grace" or steps of death.  Could 3 cups of coffee have me falling asleep when I get home from work, meaning less time with the kids, developing a habit of non-engagement and ultimately leading to experiencing a little death in my family?  Yes.

It's sobering, good habits and right living are often a accumulation of small consistent Spirit-led decisions and bad habits and wickedness are just the same, just insert Self for Spirit.  I think that the roads to righteousness and wickedness are not always worlds apart like we think of them, but simply small steps in the right or the wrong direction.

May God help us in the small steps, and keep us aware of the dangers of compound words.   There's my thread for the day.  And remember, don't ask for a "jellyfish" sandwich, it's a "jelly fish" sandwich.

Dinner Time "Whinies"

"And there was a great famine in Samaria.  And there was a great famine in Samaria, as they besieged it, until a donkey's head was sold for eighty shekels of silver, and the fourth part of a kab of dove's dung for five shekels of silver."   - 2 Kings 6

While I'm glad my children have never had to face famine of any kind, I have to admit there are some dinners where I wish they had.  I don't know, I haven't had to face famine, but when I see David's brow furrow in stubbornness, Teya's nose wrinkle up and hear them both cry out in unison, "Gross, this looks disgusting" something in me goes pop.  I want to show them what the rest of the world deals with.  It also doesn't help that Melissa has typically slaved away at making something not only healthy - why it looks gross btw - but also yummy, which is something they won't know until they shut their little ungrateful traps and taste it, dang it.

There are times where I've thought about getting behind David using my super-speed, slamming his whining jaw shut like a pro gator-wrestler, and tilting his head back so he has to swallow.   Then I could even hold is jaw shut under my chin and pose for pictures.  But alas, I don't have the wrestling skills.

But their incessant complaining, grumbling and complaining in the presence of any sort of dinner other than burgers, fries or pizza, reminds me of my own limited ability to keep my trap shut in times of any sort of dissatisfaction.  Really, missing my morning coffee seems to be enough to set my whole day off on another track.  Those close to me may call it the "track to hell for everyone else".

This whole grumbling thing has got to be one of the major problems with the human race.  I say this so I can tie in some sort of meaningful thought, but also so I can implicate everyone and feel a bit better about myself.  We are an ungrateful people.  We want so much and we want it our way, in our way, done our way, for our way's sake already!  We're pretty weird like that.

So weird in fact that when it comes to faith, we Christians, or at least me, have a hard time remaining grateful when I've been given everything and more than I could possibly want or ever even dream of having.  Eternal life for crying out loud!  A kingdom come!  New life now and real purpose!  God with me!  Jesus pleading my case!  The Holy Spirit praying for me!  Perfection before God!  Belonging!  Radical love and acceptance!

And...  I look at my plate full of these spiritual realities, tilt my head back, roll my eyes into the back of my head and moan like a zombie, "Gross!  God I wanted McDonald's!"

So I trade my spiritual food for worldly trifles, or at least food that makes the FDA squirm - that's really bad food. (How in the world do they approve of McDonalds?)

But here's the good thing about all this.  For every moan there's a father smiling and patiently saying, "Eat your vegetables Son."  He's not thinking about gator-wrestling, or ringing our ungrateful little throats, or pushing us out of our high-chairs, or taking the back of our head and shoving our face into our plate of peas.  He's patient from the get-go, and then he's even more patient with us as we are ungrateful and we grumble.

So imagine what life would look like if we began to practice gratitude (once again, for gratitude I highly recommend Anne Voskamp's book 1000 Gifts).  Imagine if we feebly prodded at the promises and disciplines on our plate.  If we, rather than complained, looked our father in the face and attempted to smile as we ate our asparagus of Bible reading and meditation.  Imagine the pleasure we could bring him.

After all, life is not about our pleasure, but God's.  The more I can wrap my whiny little head around that one, the better I'll be, and happier I bet.

Good Misgivings

There are others who are vexed with themselves when they observe their own imperfectness, and display impatience that is not humility; so impatient are they about this that they would fain be saints in a day.  Many of these persons purpose to accomplish a great deal and make grand resolutions; yet, as they are not humble and have no misgivings about themselves, the more resolutions they make, the greater is they fall and the greater their annoyance, since they have not the patience to wait for that which God will give them when it pleases Him; this likewise is contrary to the spiritual meekness aforementioned, which cannot be wholly remedied save by the purgation of the dark night.  Some souls on the other hand are so patient as regards the progress which they desire that God would gladly see them less so.  - St. John of the Cross

I've just gotten back from a very full vacation with my family in the Pacific Northwest.  It was good to fill my lungs with the red-wood-scented, cool, fresh air that is simply more humane that what we breathe in Orlando.  Also it was a great chance to drink as much good tasting water as possible before coming back to the "flat with a hint of sulfur" stuff we have here.

It was also really fun to be around my family.  They are such a joyous crowd, bringing out the best in everyone, although my sisters-in-law think otherwise about us boys.  But laughing about flatulence important stuff for guys right?

Here's my issue with vacations: they end.  And all the worries I thought I was leaving are here were still waiting for me when I get back.  And why do they have with devilish smirks on their nasty little faces?  Melissa thinks vacations can serve as a sort of reset button for life.  But in my case, I'm still here with all of my problems when I get back, so it's difficult for me to see it the same way.

So the quote above has me thinking that perhaps I fall into the category of one who would "feign be a saint in a day".  I would love to come back and approach life perfectly, without ever a misstep.  But life is not like that.  Life will have you sinning in no time, frustrated by your own frustrations and pleading uncle to God over and over.  At least that seems to be my experience.

God seems to allow life to do this.  He seems to want us to be challenged.  He wants us to be humble.  He wants us, as St. John says, to have misgivings.

I don't think its that God is mean.  That's not it at all.  So delete the "pleading uncle" image.  I think we find our own problems and consequences.  But I believe that God wants us to grow not only in our new righteousness and identity as his children, but in our misgivings about ourselves and where we'll go without him.

I find this notion of having misgivings strangely comforting.  For it allows me to not freak out so much when I sin.  It allows me not to be so surprised.  It allows me to hope not in myself and my methods and strategies, but in the active and real work of Christ.

It allows me to kind of smile and wag my head at myself, seeing me the way God must see me, all the while knowing that he'll give me just what I need when I need it.  And at the same time he'll keep me thirsty for more goodness and more rightness.  And I guess it'll help keep me real.  
     

THE BED

 

THE BED.

One day we'll all be there.  For some of it will be gurneys, for others it'll be beds at home, but someday we will be horizontal, flattened by a life lived and expiring.  And when we look back on our life what will we think?  "I wish I'd watched more TV, I wish I'd eaten more ice cream, I wish I'd pursued more hobbies, I wish I'd bought more stuff, earned more money and I wish I'd had more 'me time'."

No my guess is we'll think about people.  We'll wish we'd spent more time with our kids, more time loving our wives, more time welcoming strangers - that sort of stuff.  Kingdom stuff.

My brother's been challenging me recently to think about my death bed and to live accordingly.  It's really helpful, though most everything in me wants to pursue me these days.  But when I'm actually on THE BED, I'm not going to be thinking of me, I know it.  And I don't want my BED to be one of sweaty regret.

Even dwelling on my BED to try and live better can be a little ego-driven.  I need some other source to live well.  Some other source to do what I don't naturally want or can even do.

I NEED God.  I need God just as much now as I'll need him on my bed.  So how many breaths do I have?  I don't know, but every breath is a gift breathed into us by God, every moment a treasure, and every millisecond an opportunity arises: Will we live for God's Kingdom and truly live, or will we live for our own kingdom and die?  Thrive or shrivel, the choice is ours.

We'll all die physically, but wouldn't it be great if our deaths were restful (even though possibly painful), but restful with God's rest, his great Sabbath, because with as much as we will have stumbled and tripped through life, we will have sought to live our life in God, for him and for others.

I write what I wish for.  For on THE BED the walls between our reality and God's are paper thin and I'd love to break through with joy.  And the good news is I will, we will, so be encouraged.