Archive for the 'faith' Category

Dueling Prayers

Overheard in the middle school Bible class last night:

Student A: Please pray that it stops raining. I’m tired of all the rain.

Student B: Please pray that it continues to rain. We need all the rain we can get.

Student C: “Dear God, some of us want it to quit raining, and some of us want it to keep raining. You can work it out.”

(Everything I needed to know about theology I learned in a middle school Bible class!)

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“The real question before our death, then, is not, How much can I still accomplish, or how much influence can I still exert? but, How can I live so that I can continue to be fruitful when I am no longer here among my family and friends?” - Henri Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation on Dying and Caring

Far As the Curse Is Found

Diane is back from seven days of grandbaby-holding. I’d like to see the size of the pliers they used to peel her fingers off Reese when she left. Good news: Matt, Jenna, and Reese will be coming soon for a few weeks so Matt can do his family practice rotation.

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Yesterday, here’s what struck me in 1 Corinthians 11:2-16. Right in the middle of this puzzling passage (What’s up with the veils? And the angels?), Paul says, Nevertheless, in the Lord . . . .” What a powerful move.

Everything has changed in light of the new creation that is breaking in through Jesus Christ. “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation” (2 Cor. 5:17).

We can’t pretend he didn’t come. We can’t act as if everything isn’t being reordered by his power. We can’t settle for the fallen world and its curse.

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make his blessings flow
Far as the curse is found, far as the curse is found.
Far as, far as the curse is found.

The Long Day’s Journey of Saturday

“There is one particular day in Western history about which neither historical record nor myth nor Scripture make report. It is a Saturday. And it has become the longest of days. We know of that Good Friday which Christianity holds to have been that of the Cross. But the non-Christian, the atheist, knows of it as well. This is to say that he knows of the injustice, of the interminable suffering, of the waste, of the brute enigma of ending, which so largely make up not only the historical dimension of the human condition, but the everyday fabric of our personal lives. We know, ineluctably, of the pain, of the failure of love, of the solitude which are our history and private fate. We know also about Sunday. To the Christian, that day signifies an intimation, both assured and precarious, both evident and beyond comprehension, of resurrection, of a justice and a love that have conquered death. If we are non-Christians or non-believers, we know of that Sunday in precisely analogous terms. We conceive of it as the day of liberation from inhumanity and servitude. We look to resolutions, be they therapeutic or political, be they social or messianic. The lineaments of that Sunday carry the name of hope (there is no word less deconstructible).

But ours is the long day’s journey of the Saturday. Between suffering, aloneness, unutterable waste on the one hand and the dream of liberation, of rebirth on the other. In the face of the torture of a child, of the death of love which is Friday, even the greatest art and poetry are almost helpless. In the Utopia of the Sunday, the aesthetic will, presumably, no longer have logic or necessity. The apprehensions and figurations in the play of metaphysical imagining, in the poem and the music, which tell of pain and of hope, of the flesh which is said to taste of ash and of the spirit which is said to have the savour of fire, are always Sabbatarian. They have risen out of an immensity of waiting which is that of man. Without them, how could we be patient?”

- George Steiner, Real Presences, pp. 231f

Good Friday

“I don’t have the right personality for Good Friday, for the crucifixion: I’d like to skip ahead to the resurrection.” Anne Lamott, Plan B

“I find that Holy Week is draining; no matter how many times I have lived through his crucifixion, my anxiety about his resurrection is undiminished — I am terrified that, this year, it won’t happen; that, that year, it didn’t. Anyone can be sentimental about the Nativity; any fool can feel like a Christian at Christmas. But Easter is the main event; if you don’t believe in the resurrection, you’re not a believer.” John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany

I didn’t grow up with the rhythm of Holy Week. Our church, like many Churches of Christ, leaned heavily on the truth that Christians celebrate the resurrection of Christ every Sunday. I appreciate that emphasis.

And yet . . . the wisdom of the larger Christian community prevails. There is something about the celebration of Easter that is life-changing. It calls forth hope out of bleakness; it suggests the possibility of wholeness even in the midst of brokenness.

Seek him with me this weekend, dear friends. There are so many things I was certain of when I was twenty-two that I’m quite uncertain of today.

But this I’m sure of — sure enough to stake my life on it: Christ, the Lord, is risen.

Small Issues and a Guiding Gospel

Yesterday, I finally finished preaching through those three chapters on meat sacrificed to idols in 1 Corinthians 8-10. It took four messages (one of which Jerry Taylor preached). Here’s what I love: Paul knew that very often the deepest gospeled instincts of a people are not found in the big issues but in the smaller ones — the ones with a bit of gray area that need nuancing.

A family would make a sacrifice on behalf of some god or goddess at a Corinth temple. Some of the meat would be burned up at the moment of the sacrifice; some would then be used to serve a meal at the temple for the family and their friends; and then whatever was left could be sold by the priests at the city market.

So there were two questions: Could the Christians eat at the meals in the pagan temples when invited? and Could they buy the meat in the city market and eat it in private homes?

The questions could have been answered in a paragraph. Except that for Paul this was a perfect chance to discuss deeper themes of the gospel. Like:

- How love trumps knowledge;
- How a weaker brother or sister is someone for whom Christ died (8:11);
- How he himself is an example of choosing not to always use his rights on behalf of others (9);
- How the communion meal sets a direction for our lives;
- How love also trumps freedom;
- How Christians can receive the gifts of this life since all belongs to God the creator (quoting Psalm 24 in 10:25f);
- How the ultimate point of Christianity is to follow the cross-formed way of Jesus Christ (11:1)

Whew! All of that to say:

No, you can’t eat those dedication meals at the pagan temples. (We know there is no such thing as another god/goddess. But you have to flee idolatry, in whatever form it takes.)

Yes, you can eat meat from the city markets that may have come from the temples in private homes. (But, don’t do it if it will destroy a weaker brother or sister — meaning not someone who’s “offended” at your actions but someone who might actually be on a slippery slope. The meat itself might transport them back to an earlier time in life when they experienced the ecstasy of the pagan temples. They might head down a path of darkness as they recalled the powerful experiencing of the temple with their mystery and the pleasures [women and boys] lurking in the darkness, offering to heighten experience for a price.)

So today I’m wondering: in what ways do our smaller issues indicate that we are a gospeled people?

Easter Is Welling Up Within

I got to sit recently with a dear friend as he played for me a song that has entered his soul. I wondered, “Is this song a reflection of what’s happening inside him, or is it part of what’s happening inside him?”

I can’t tell you how many times through the years people have wanted me to listen to a song: something that meant so much to them that they wanted to share it — or perhaps they thought I couldn’t understand them without hearing it. At times the songs have been “sacred”; at other times “secular.” That’s a very thin distinction, indeed, when you’re talking about something that has moved a person’s heart. The voice of Christ breaks out in many places.

Here are some words that have been on my lips recently, from my dear old buddy Charles Wesley:

Finish then thy new creation,
Pure, unspotted, may we be;
Let us see our whole salvation
Perfectly secured by thee;
Changed from glory into glory,
Till in heaven we take our place.
Till we cast our crowns before thee,
Lost in wonder, love and praise.

But also these (Chris Rice):

Weak and wounded sinner
Lost and left to die
O, raise your head, for love is passing by
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus and live.

I spoke with another friend yesterday about Easter, and somehow this morning — even with allergies trying to pin me to the mat (after the first day of baseball practice) — I can feel the lift of Easter faith.

These simple words are on my heart this morning:

He is Lord, he is Lord!
He is risen from the dead
and he is Lord!
Every knee shall bow,
Every tongue confess
That Jesus Christ is Lord.

The Chronicle and Wineskins

The Christian Chronicle has been on a journey. Long gone are the days of mean-spirited editorials, like the one from 15-20 years ago that asked rebellious young ministers (translation: those who don’t walk in lock step) to leave the movement. Long past is the editorial warning that churches who involve women in more public ways are guilty of bringing cleavage into the assembly.

You think I’m kidding. I’m not. I’ve still got a copy. You can’t make stuff up that funny.

The Chronicle has become such a blessing. The coverage of missions is superb. The way the lead articles on potentially explosive issues are nuanced and balanced — always hinting at the possibility of unity even in the midst of disagreements — is wonderful.

If you don’t get a hard copy, be sure to check out their website.

And by the way, Greg Taylor (and others!) continues to improve our online presence for Wineskins. It was a blessing to Rubel and me to edit the magazine all those years; but now I’m so grateful for this online source of good writing. Check it out if you haven’t been there for a while.

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You’ve seen that there is a special coming out claiming that the tomb of Jesus has been found — with the remains of his body inside.

And to think that unbelievers can poke ridicule at Christians for walking by faith without evidence! There is no way anyone can prove this is the tomb of Jesus of Nazareth.

Pardon my doubt, but I think I’ll go ahead and celebrate Easter.

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One of the many things I loved about the North Atlanta Church was the huge number of people who have come out of serious addictions to faith. What a testimony!

Life Outside of Football

Sometimes lyrics sneak up on me in worship — even when I was a part of the planning team and knew the song was coming.

Here’s what hit me Sunday:

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O thou who changest not, abide with me!

And then we sang this:

Be still, my soul; the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

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Here’s a great “Fax of Life” from Rubel Shelly:

That there is “life outside of football” may be a necessary reminder for some sports fans and couch potatoes now that Super Bowl XLI is over. Now that the Indianapolis Colts have the Lombardi Trophy in hand, some of them may be wondering what they will do until next season begins.

But the line is actually from Tony Dungy, the Colts’ head coach. It wasn’t spoken after last Sunday’s water-logged victory over the Chicago Bears but just after his son James committed suicide 13 months ago.

In a speech he made shortly after that tragedy, Dungy talked about all three of his sons. He spoke first of his middle son, Eric, and said his competitive nature is so focused on athletics that “it’s almost a problem.” Then he turned to his youngest son, Jordan, whose rare congenital condition makes him insensitive to pain.

“That sounds like it’s good at the beginning, but I promise you it’s not,” said Coach Dungy. “We’ve learned some hurts are really necessary for kids. Pain is necessary for kids to find out the difference between what’s good and what’s harmful.”

“Cookies are good,” the coach explained, “but – in Jordan’s mind – if they’re good out on the plate, they’re even better in the oven. He will go right in the oven when my wife’s not looking, reach in, take the rack out, take the pan out, burn his hands – then eat the cookies and burn his tongue and never feel it.”

“Pain sometimes lets us know we have a condition that needs to be healed,” Dungy said. “Pain inside sometimes lets us know that spiritually we’re not quite right, and we need to be healed. And that God will send that healing agent right to the spot. Sometimes pain is the only way that will turn us as kids back to the Father.”

Only then did Coach Dungy speak of his oldest son, James, who took his life three days before Christmas 2005. He spoke of his family’s pain. He talked about lessons they were learning from it. He and his wife have since joined an organization dedicated to preventing teen suicide.

I’m glad Dungy’s team won the big game. I am impressed by his humility, strength, and deep Christian faith. And I am grateful he could remind all of us there is life outside of football, work, and tragedy. There is the authentic love of God that carries us through, puts everything else in perspective, and reminds us of what really matters.

Life isn’t about football. It is about accepting and sharing God’s love.

Nothing Worth Proving Can be Proven

To the computer experts out there: Is Vista as good as “they” (translation: Bill Gates) say? Will it match OS-X?

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I wasn’t in Fresno long this past weekend. But it was long enough to get a “fix” for my Trader Joe’s addiction. My new stash should last me until Pepperdine lectureship. Why no Trader Joe’s in TX?

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From Alister McGrath:

It is hardly surprising that many are attracted to simple solutions to complex problems. Yet these rightly cause suspicion. We have become cynical of solutions that are too neat and claim to explain everything. We are as weary as we are wary of too-confident answers to difficult questions. The world we experience is just too messy and fuzzy to fit completely into the orderly systems that some crave and others fear. We have to learn to live in an untidy world in which we are not certain of everything — a world in which there are unanswered questions. Some panic at this thought. How can we live when we cannot be confident of anything? The only certainty of our age seems to be that there is no certainty at all. Yet even this confident assertion contradicts itself — like the statement that Bertrand Russell recalled seeing written on a college blackboard: “All statements written on this blackboard are false.” . . .

We have to learn to live with the fact that we cannot be certain of many of the most important things about life. We can be certaint hat 2 + 2 = 4; but that is hardly going to give us a reason to live and die, or cause our hearts to beat a little faster with excitement. Yet with the greater questions of life, we have to learn to live with a degree of uncertainty. Tennyson captures this dilemma perfectly in his poem “The Ancient Sage” (1885):
For nothing worthy proving can be proven,
nor yet disproven: wherefore thou be wise,
cleave ever to the sunnier side of doubt.

For Tennyson, anything that was worth believing could not be proved with certainty. It involved a leap of faith — a recognition that the clues to the meaning of the universe do not provide an invincible case for a meaningless cosmos or one brought into being by a caring and loving God. Perhaps we can give up and walk away from the big questions that are raised. Yet in the end, this does not really satisfy us. Might not we be missing out on something important — and even exciting?

Christian Evidences

If I was going to argue the position of atheism, I’d argue about like Sam Harris did. I’d speak about these things:

1. A sense that something is very wrong with this world — something that is hard to mesh with a believe in a loving, all-powerful God. I’d ask why this God doesn’t protect his people better. (How hard would it be to keep an SUV full of teenagers who are returning from a youth rally from turning over on I-20? How difficult would it be to answer the prayer of thousands of believers asking for a 5-year-old with cancer to be healed?)

2. A conviction that the personal testimonies aren’t enough. The same testimonies to healing, answered prayer, and changed lives have come from Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Mormonism, etc. People who believe dramatically different things have offered witness to the amazing things they’ve seen their God do.

3. An observation that people have continued to be willing to kill each other over their holy books. Partly, this is saying that the faith doesn’t seem to “work.” While we might say that’s just talking about the inconsistencies of the people of faith rather than of the faith itself, Jesus said, “By your love they will know you’re my disciples.” Apparently, if they live with grudges, bitterness, and murderous intent, it’s fair enough to assume they’re not Jesus’ disciples.

4. A feeling that the holy books of the various religions have serious problems. Each religion finds serious flaws in the holy books of the other religions. Few are able to back off and say that they all are problematic. (E.g., just pointing out that the OT has a higher moral than, say, the Babylonians, doesn’t really answer all the questions about killing teens who talk back and about taking women as personal spoils of war.)

All right, you may be wondering. Has Mike converted?

Nope. But I’ve always had a deep appreciation for serious struggles of faith. Several people introduced me to an approach to Christian evidences of the EVIDENCE THAT DEMANDS A VERDICT variety when I was in college. Shortly after I graduated, I started a Bible study with university students at UNC-Wilmington who were searching for faith. It quickly became clear that the EVIDENCE THAT DEMANDS A VERDICT perspective only demands a verdict if you already believe. (There is, of course, some value to that.)

First, let me mention a couple books I read over the holidays that I think help us think through Christian apologetics in our current world context. One is Greg Boyd’s Letters From a Skeptic. The book contains a series of letters that Boyd exchanged with his father, Edward Boyd, who was an unbeliever.

In the preface Greg Boyd writes: “Exceptionally intelligent, intensely skeptical, very strong-willed, and 70 years old — could a more unlikely candidate for conversion be found than my father? He had given me little grounds for hope.”

The letters from the dad ask the good, tough questions; the letters from the son are honest and hopeful.

The last letter in the book says:

Dear Greg:

Well, as I told you over the phone, I finally “took the leap.” Hallelujah! As I sit here and read over all of our correspondence, I still can’t believe how I’ve changed from a smart-ass-know-it-all to an actual believer! Jeanne can’t believe it either! It’s probably even confused the hell out of our dog! The angels whom you say rejoice over this sort of thing are probably giving each other high-fives! . . .

As you know, I’ve still got a number of questions, and I’m sure we’ll continue to hash these out. But my disposition has completely changed. I’m asking them no longer as a skeptic, but as a believer. You don’t need to end your letters “with hope” any longer. . . .

Lots of love, with faith (!)

Dad

The other book is Alister McGrath’s brief (123 pages) Glimpsing the Face of God: The Search for Meaning in the Universe. It’s the kind of book that I’d be glad to put in the hands of those university students whose rental house I met in weekly so many years ago.

Here are a couple of my conclusions about Christian evidences:

1. My central arguments for faith aren’t cosmological (”nothing comes from nothing”), teleiological (”there’s an intricately designed watch, so there must be a watch-maker”), moral (”why does everyone agree that Hitler was evil?”), or ontological (”I can imagine that there is a God . . . so there must be a God”). I begin as a Christ-follower. I am a believer in the story of Jesus Christ. That’s where I begin. I believe because I have committed myself to this one who came from God “to put the world to rights” (as N. T. Wright would say it). So I’m inviting others to consider that possibility with me. My opening move is one of story. Within the consideration of that story, the other traditional Christian evidences find their value.

2. The whole EVIDENCE THAT DEMANDS A VERDICT doesn’t ring true for many seekers. If there were evidence that DEMANDS a decision, they’d already believe. Some are dishonest, of course, but many are not. Many are genuine truth-seekers. I prefer to speak about clues. There are footprints in the sand. We’re trying to figure out the story behind those footprints.

“What if nature is studded with clues to our true meaning and destiny, and fingerprinted with the presence of God? This book is an exploration of this fascinating possibility.” (McGrath)

Someone asked in my last post how I could question Harris’s statement that atheism is “simply an admission of the obvious.” And the reason is because you can’t prove faith in atheism. There is no scientific discovery that can conclude definitively that there is no God. The man who was a primary driver in the Genome Project is himself a devoted believer!

Again, from McGrath: “There has never been any shortage of people who will tell us that the evidence is totally persuasive, and that — unless we are complete fools — we will accept that there is no meaning in life, and no God behind this world. Some argue that atheism is the only logically and scientifically respectable worldview. Yet this overlooks the inconvenient fact that the truth claims of atheism simply cannot be proved. How do we know that there is no God? The simple fact of the matter is that atheism is a faith, which draws conclusions that go beyond the available evidence.”

Finally, today, these words from Martin Luther King, Jr.: “Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.”