Faith

Categories Book Notes, Faith

The church in the popularity polls

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Notes on Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck’s
Why we Love the Church:
in praise of institutions and organized religion
Chapter 3 : The Personal (On hurt and heresy)

Why do outsiders have a negative impression of the church?

According to DeYoung, this is somewhat of a truism: “If outsiders thought the church was hot stuff, they would become insiders. So, of course outsiders don’t like the church.” But DeYoung urges us to look deeper at how “outsiders” view the church. He encourages us to start by listening to what they’re saying–but also to take into consideration three vital points.

First, historically speaking, the young have always been the most disillusioned about religion and hypercritical of “organized religion”. Generally, this tends to be moderated as they age. Second, perceptions are not always reality–we should take seriously the perceptions of outsiders but be aware that the church is not always as they perceive it to be. Third, the church has often been despised–but that has not always been a sign of failure.

My take-home message from this segment of chapter 3 has been: if the church is unpopular with the world, it is for one of two reasons (or a combination of the two). Either we are failing to reflect Christ, or we are reflecting Christ. Either can result in unpopularity. The ultimate question that the church should ask when she reflects on her unpopularity with outsiders, then, is: are we reflecting Christ?

If the church of God fails to reflect Christ, she is little more than a social club and deserves the world’s derision. If the church of God shows partiality to the rich over the poor, she fails to reflect Christ and is worthy of derision (James 2:1-5). If the church permits or even glories in transgression, she fails to reflect Christ and is worthy of derision (I Corinthians 5:1-13). If the church fails to act in a decent and orderly fashion, she fails to reflect Christ and is worthy of derision (I Corinthians 14:22-33). If the church preaches some gospel other than the gospel of Christ, she fails to reflect Christ and is worthy of derision (Galatians 1:6-12).

But reflecting Christ is not a guarantee of popularity with the world–in fact, we have a guarantee that the world will hate us. John 15:18-20 makes this plain:

“If the world hats you, you know that it hated Me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love its own. Yet because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you, ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you. If they kept My word, they will keep yours also.”

Christ is a controversial figure. He always has been–and always will be. The great line between the believer and the unbeliever is how he responds to Christ. Christ is the great divider–either one loves Him (by the grace of God) or one hates Him. There can be no middle ground.

You may say that there are plenty in the world who love Jesus–that Jesus is doing just fine in the popularity polls. But what Jesus is this? Is this Jesus, the incarnate Son of God? Is this Jesus the crucified who conquered death? Is this Jesus who by His very coming judged the world (John 3:19)? Is this the Jesus who is popular?

No, the popular Jesus is not the Jesus of Scripture and history. This Jesus is a man, made in the likeness of man–a touchy-feely, non-controversial figure. As DeYoung states: “The Jesus they like is almost certainly not the Jesus who calls sinners to repentance, claimed to be the unique Son of God, and died for our sins. He is almost certainly a nice guy, open-minded, spiritually ambiguous, and a good example. He is guru Jesus who resembles Bono in a bathrobe.”

This is not the Jesus that the church is called to exemplify, regardless of whether doing so would increase our ratings in the popularity polls. We are called to be the church of Jesus Christ–the controversial, love-inspiring, hatred-inducing, flesh-killing, God-exalting Jesus Christ.

So the polls cannot be our indicator of success. We cannot judge ourselves based merely on how outsiders see us. Neither their love or their hatred for the church says anything of whether the church is succeeding. For their love could indicate that we preach a different gospel, giving them what their itching ears want to hear (II Timothy 4:3-4). If the church is universally popular, she has failed. On the other hand, the world’s hatred for the church is not a sign of success either. The world could hate the church because they hate Christ and the church reflects Christ–but it could be that the church is legalistic, discriminatory, sinful, and proud.

In light of this, how is the church to respond to her “failures” in the popularity polls? Is she to seek to do whatever it takes to improve her ratings? Is she to ignore the ratings because they are not accurate predictors of true success?

I believe she should do neither. Instead, she should carefully look at how outsiders view her and humbly consider whether she is being faithful to reflect Christ in each of those areas. If she is reflecting Christ, she should rejoice that she is being counted worthy to suffer for the cause of Christ. If she is not reflecting Christ, she should sorrow that she has brought shame to the cross of Christ–and her godly sorrow should lead her to repentance.

“Walk in wisdom toward those who are outside, redeeming the time. Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one.”
Colossians 4:5-6

More notes on Why We Love the Church by Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck:

Categories Faith

Hallowed be Thy Name…

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Jesus taught His disciples to pray: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name.”

But what does it mean for God’s name to be hallowed?

Hallowed means set apart, revered–glorified.

Yet how is God’s name set apart? How is God’s name revered? How is God’s name glorified?

A couple of days ago I was reading in Numbers 20 when I came across an interesting set of verses.

“Then the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, ‘Because you did not believe Me, to hallow Me in the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land which I have given them.’ This was the water of Meribah, because the children of Israel contended with the Lord, and He was hallowed among them.”
Numbers 20:12-13

The people had complained against Moses because they had no water. Moses went into the presence of God. God told Moses to speak to a rock, which would bring forth water for them. Moses went and got angry with the people and then struck the rock, which then poured forth water for all the people.

But God was not pleased. Moses did not believe God, to hallow Him–to set Him apart, to revere Him, to glorify Him–in the eyes of the people of Israel. Instead, Moses took matters into his own hands: “Must we bring water for you out of this rock?”

God’s judgment ultimately came on Moses because he did not hallow God among Israel. Moses would not enter into the Promised Land.

Yet God would be hallowed–set apart, revered, glorified–among the Israelites. The difference is that He would be hallowed as just, in judging Moses–whereas had Moses believed, God would have been hallowed by Moses as merciful in providing water from the rock.

John Piper said something similar in a sermon I listened to this evening:

“The coming of Jesus into the world clarifies that unbelief is our fault, and belief is God’s gift. Which means that if we do not come to Christ, but rather perish eternally, we magnify God’s justice. And if we do come to Christ and gain eternal life, we magnify God’s grace.”
John Piper

God will be hallowed–either with or without the act of hallowing by man. But when man hallows God, he experiences great joy as a part of God’s glorification. When man does not hallow God, God’s hallowing is that man’s judgment.

I think of C.S. Lewis’s description of Aslan in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. To those who loved Him (Aslan), He was great and wonderful–and even His name seemed fresh and sweet and lifegiving. Yet to those who hated Him, He was fearsome and awful and even His name made them cower and cringe.

For the glorification of God is the aroma of death, leading to death for those who are perishing–but the aroma of life leading to life to we who are being saved (2 Corinthians 2:14-16). It is one scent–the scent of the glory of God–but the unregenerate, unbelieving nostrils smell it differently. To them, God’s glorification is putrid–to we who are being saved, God’s glorification is life itself.

And so we pray, “”Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name–in Me.”

Categories Book Notes, Faith

Self-Aware Revolutionaries or God-Aware Conventionalists?

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Notes on Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck’s
Why we Love the Church:
in praise of institutions and organized religion
Chapter 2 : Turn the Page (Getting off the road and getting back to church)

Why We Love the Church is written by two men, Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck–and they write in alternating chapters. Odd numbered chapters are written by DeYoung and appeal mostly to the mind of the reader. DeYoung’s chapters are ripe with endnotes, mostly references to other published works. Even numbered chapters (like chapter 2) are written by Kluck and appeal more to the emotions of the reader. These chapters are filled with endnotes, too–but most of them turn out to be snarky asides to the reader.

I like the way this format allows each man to have his own narrative voice–while combining both of their perspectives for a more full defense of the church.

That being said, I find it much easier to write about DeYoung’s chapters, and much easier to relate to Kluck’s. DeYoung’s chapters are focused on propositional truths–things that can be easily grappled with in an objective sense. Kluck’s chapters are focused more on personal experiences–a more subjective, but no less real realm.

In chapter 2, Kluck explores our society’s obsession with being revolutionary adventurers. We love to overturn things, love to discover things. Memoirs of personal journeys (and blogs about personal journeys?) are some of the hottest literature of our day.

The revolutionary adventurers (and their books) are out in full force within Christendom. We can read dozens of memoir-type tomes telling the story of how some adventurer took a personal journey (with God?) that caused them to be a revolutionary and…drop out of church. Or, for something a little different, we can read one about how a revolutionary decided to drop out of church–so he could discover God.

The problem is that oftentimes, these revolutionaries don’t really do anything revolutionary. At least, nothing that would be considered revolutionary for the average non-God-fearing yuppie. They golf on Sunday morning with their pals. They go to concerts and movies and drive hybrids. They hang out at Starbucks and occasionally discuss social justice and the universe and other deep thoughts. And what’s more, the “god” they find oftentimes ends up looking, well, a lot like them. They become more self-aware. More aware of what they’re thinking. More aware of the wrongs that have been done to them. More aware of how everyone else is doing something wrong. But is that what the Christian life is about?

In seeking to be revolutionary and to “find God”, they end up being status quo and letting themselves become their god. Rather than being in a community of believers that forces them out of their comfort and forces them to be aware of God–they relax in their own company in comfort and self-awareness.

Kluck makes a great point towards the end of chapter 2:

In Revolution Barna says that he wrote the book to “help Revolutionaries gain a better understanding of themselves,” and “crystallize their self-awareness.” I would argue that we could do well with a lot less self-awareness, apart from the awareness of our own sinfulness and need for the gospel.
-Ted Kluck, Why we love the church

Wherever we’re at in the Christian journey, the last thing we need is more self-awareness. Knowing myself can only lead to death by narcissism or death by despair (depending on how truthful my knowledge of myself is). In and of myself, I am a dead creature, incapable of life or good. I poison everything around me. To become more self-aware is only to ingest my own poison and kill myself.

On the other hand, to be God-aware is to know life. It is to lose oneself in the grandeur of the infinitely greater one–and in losing oneself, one gains the life he could never gain on his own.

It is as C.S. Lewis says in the closing chapter of Mere Christianity:

It is no good trying to ‘be myself’ without Him. The more I resist Him and try to live on my own, the more I become dominated by my own heredity and upbringing and surroundings and natural desires…. I am not, in my natural state, nearly so much of a person as I like to believe: most of what I call ‘me’ can be very easily explained. It is when I turn to Christ, when I give myself up to His personality, that I first begin to have a real personality of my own…

Your real, new self…will not come as long as you are looking for it. It will come when you are looking for Him….Give up yourself and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.

More notes on Why We Love the Church by Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck:

Categories Faith, Reflections

Argument

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Nothing gets me going like a good argument. I just love to argue. Let’s find something we disagree about–no matter how minute–and let’s duke it out.

I imagine my family tired of it on occasion–but they accepted that I enjoyed verbal sparring and they engaged me on that level.

Daniel used to needle me by taking a masochistic stance–which I would return with a feminist point of view. (Don’t freak out here–my feminism is of quite a different breed than this world’s.)

Timmy’ll suggest that Marx had a point and we’ll argue over economics and politics and the running of nations.

Dad and I will find some way to argue our two sides of the predestination/free will debate (I’m a hair more Calvinist than he.)

In early high school, I was part of an online community of homeschoolers. Some people frequented the just-for-fun type message boards, but I hung out almost exclusively in the debate board. We argued free will and predestination, creation and evolution, age of the earth, contraceptive use (there were quiverfulls among us), politics, abortion, and whether Christians should celebrate Christmas. I was in my element.

In my senior year of high school, I did a one year Bible program because I’d already finished my high school requirements. One of my classmates liked arguing as much as I so we’d argue with each other or play tag-team as we argued with a teacher. Eschatology, election, the role of the church–these were some of our favorite topics. And we argued them with vigor.

Arguing invigorates me. It makes me feel alive. My mind is active, my mouth (or keyboard) is active. I’m engaging the topic. I’m thinking as I’m speaking. There’s nothing that can put a spring in my step like a good argument.

But somewhere along the way, I learned that many people aren’t like me. They don’t like to argue. They don’t like to disagree. They don’t see arguing as a mental game, an exercise for the brain. They see it as a battle, an attack on who they are and what they believe.

Or sometimes they like to argue–but not for arguments sake. They are convinced that their view is the only correct view and nothing will change their mind. What’s more–they’re awfully bent on changing my mind. Which often means that they won’t actually engage my ideas–they just fire off with their own.

I’ve learned this of other people and it has pushed me underground as an arguer. I don’t want to attack people. I don’t want them to think I’m a bad person because I disagree with them either. So I keep quiet about certain controversial subjects. I try not to provoke too many arguments.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t still love to argue. I still love a good argument–especially one with Scripture references and proof-texts flying back and forth.

But since I’ve realized that others’ attitudes towards arguments differ from my own, I’ve tried to be really selective as to who I argue with. I try to only argue with people who see it as a mental workout, as I do–people who recognize the inner Irenic (peacemaker) amidst the outer Polemic (fighter).

But then, every so often, I’ll start arguing with someone, and when I’m done, I’ll wonder “Did that get taken the right way?”

Did I read that person wrong when I thought they liked this as much as I?

Did I misestimate the depth of their feeling or attachment to this topic, such that my challenge might be seen as an attack?

Did I misjudge this person when I figured they would understand that I agree with them even as I’m disagreeing?

Because I only argue with people I respect. I only disagree with people I agree with. I only argue with people I care about and admire.

But what if they don’t know that and misinterpret my argumentation?

What if, in doing what I so enjoy, I hurt a dear brother or sister? What then?

And what am I to do with Paul’s admonition to Titus?

“But avoid foolish disputes, genealogies, contentions, and strivings about the law; for they are unprofitable and useless. Reject a divisive man after the first and second admonition, knowing that such a person is warped and sinning, being self-condemned.”
Titus 3:9-11

Is that what I do, who I am when I argue? Do I argue in an unprofitable and useless way? Am I divisive, warped, and sinning in loving argument?

Do I major on minors and let petty things become points of contention?

I don’t know. I don’t know.

But I so love it when someone challenges me and we can mentally and verbally spar. I just want to be sure that in doing so, I am encouraging them (as arguing so often encourages me) rather than tearing them down. I want to be sure that I’m bringing them life (as I feel more alive in the midst of a good argument) rather than bringing them death. I want to be sure that I’m demonstrating my respect for them (as I feel respected when someone engages my mind) instead of making them feel disrespected. I just wish I could be sure.

But I can’t. And that’s what worries me.

Categories Book Notes, Faith

Your Kingdom Come

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Notes on Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck’s
Why we Love the Church:
in praise of institutions and organized religion
Chapter 1: The Missiological (Jesus Among the Chicken Littles)

The two groups that talk the most about bringing the kingdom are dominionist/theonomist types and the emergent/missional crowd. Dominionists think, “All of creation belongs to Christ. It must all submit to His kingly rule.” So they want to change laws and influence politics and exercise Christ’s dominion over the world. On the other end, missional types think, “Jesus came to bring the kingdom of God’s peace and justice. We must work for shalom and eliminate suffering in the world.” Fascinating–one group goes right wing, seeking to change institutions and public morality, and the other goes left wing, wanting to provide more social services and champion the arts.

Both camps have a point, but both are selective in their view of the kingdom, and both have too much “already” and not enough “not yet” in their eschatology.

~Why we love the church, page 39

I am not incredibly familiar with emergent/missional theology or emphasis. I have observed some themes through my blog reading, but have not done any in-depth exploration of missional or emergent ideas. So my thoughts on the missiological argument against church are written based on DeYoung and Kluck’s description of missional goals and the little that I have observed from web-surfing.

According to DeYoung and Kluck, the missional perspective says that the goal of the church is to bring Christ’s kingdom of peace, justice, and blessing to the world. They do this by emphasizing community and global transformation. This movement is strong on social justice, on taking a political and personal stand against racism, poverty, exploitation, etc.

I am much more familiar with the dominionist/theonomist perspective, as I belong (and have always belonged) to a conservative Christian congregation in which many believers desire to change the world through legislating Christian morals.

Each of these groups has a goal: bringing the kingdom of God to earth. And that is the goal of God. Jesus taught us to pray “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” God wants His kingdom to come on earth.

This raises a couple of questions for the believer. First of all, what does God’s kingdom on earth look like? Second, what is the role of the believer in seeing God’s kingdom come on earth?

To the missional/emergent believer, God’s kingdom come means there is no inequality and mercy reigns supreme. To the dominionist/theonomist believer, God’s kingdom come means there is no immorality and justice reigns supreme.

And, according to both of these groups, the role of the believer in seeing God’s kingdom come on earth is to affect social and political change.

But is this what God’s kingdom on earth looks like? Is this the role of the believer in seeing God’s kingdom come on earth?

I don’t think anyone can read Scripture without agreeing that God’s kingdom is a place of peace and morality. This is clear. But does that mean that if peace and morality exist in a certain place, that God’s kingdom has come there?

Does the lack of inequality mean that God’s kingdom has come? Does the lack of immorality mean that God’s kingdom has come?

No. Because while God’s kingdom might be characterized by lack of inequality and immorality, God’s kingdom is not defined by lack of inequality and immorality. God’s kingdom is defined by God’s rule. God’s kingdom comes on earth when individuals and communities submit to God’s gracious rule. It is possible that a community can be moral without having submitted to God’s gracious rule. It is possible for a community to have equality without having submitted to God’s gracious rule. And in those cases, the community might be nice, but it isn’t God’s kingdom come.

So what should the role of individual Christians be in seeing God’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven? I would argue that our role is to be witnesses to the greatness of God. Our job is to testify to the power and love of Christ, and to call all peoples to submit to His gracious rule. Apart from submitting to God’s rule ourselves, our primary focus in seeing God’s kingdom come on earth should be evangelism.

Now, this is not to say that Christians should not be eager to affect social and political change. It is good to seek to feed the poor. It is good to seek to eliminate abortion. These are good things. But what does it matter if the world is composed of well-fed, moral citizens–who still die and go to hell? What does it matter if the world has feel-goods and moral standards because of Christian social action–but God is never glorified in their eyes? If that is the result of our “kingdom building”, then our “kingdom building” has been for nothing. For God’s kingdom is not built of governments, laws, and social programs. God’s kingdom is built as Christ becomes king of individual hearts.

We should be giving drinks of water to children in Christ’s name. We should be looking after widows and orphans. We should be concerned with moral standards. James 1:27 says that this is pure and undefiled religion. But we should also be proclaiming the glories of God in salvation. Either by itself is something less than pure religion.

DeYoung’s comment couldn’t be more true: “Both camps have a point, but both are selective in their view of the kingdom, and both have too much ‘already’ and not enough ‘not yet’ in their eschatology.” It is worthwhile to value social justice. It is worthwhile to value morality. But the kingdom is not social justice and morality. The kingdom is Christ’s rule–and the result is social justice and morality. Both views seek to put the cart before the horse–trying to obtain social justice and morality without the gracious rule of Christ in the hearts of people.

So let us pray for, let us seek, let us work towards seeing the kingdom of God come on earth. But let us remember that the kingdom of God comes not from social programs or political activism, but as people and nations submit to the gracious rule of God. Let us take on, as our true role in kingdom-ushering, the job of inviting peoples and nations to submit to the gracious rule of God through world evangelization.

More notes on Why We Love the Church by Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck:

Categories Faith, Rants

Christian Conspiracy Theory?

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Yesterday, I linked to this article on Facebook (HT: Vitamin Z.) The article discusses the “Endagered Species” advertising campaign sponsored by the Georgia Right to Life.

Endangered Species Ad

I later saw this same article linked to by another person, who had a rather different take on it than mine. This other person suggested that this was a “Christian conspiracy theory” and an example of playing the “race card” while overlooking the true underlying theme–poverty.

I couldn’t help but mull over the suggestion. Is an injustice being done to black children in particular, or is poverty the only thing we should be worried about in this issue?

Yes, the data behind this campaign and the information shared in this campaign is fodder for conspiracy theorists. And some are taking hold of it in that way:

As the Los Angeles Times reports, “An increasingly vocal segment of the antiabortion community has embraced the idea that black women are targeted for abortion in an effort to keep the black population down.” Similarly, from The New York Times: “Abortion opponents say the number is so high because abortion clinics are deliberately located in black neighborhoods and prey upon black women. The evidence, they say, is everywhere: Planned Parenthood’s response to the anti-abortion ad that aired during the SuperBowl featured two black athletes, they note, and several women’s clinics offered free services — including abortions — to evacuees after Hurricane Katrina.”

“Planned Parenthood is out to kill blacks,” the conspiracy theorists would say.

I don’t really believe that. While there probably are some people who want to wipe out the black race, I do not believe this is the goal of the average (or even not so average) Planned Parenthood employee. But regardless of intent, Planned Parenthood is killing a disproportionate number of black babies. Regardless of intent, they are doing a remarkable job of carrying out their founder Margaret Sanger’s eugenic image of utopia.

In the public health world, we get worked up over things that disproportionately kill one population over another. We get worked up over sex differences in morbidity from heart attacks. We get worked up over racial differences in morbidity from diabetes and related disease. We want to know why these disease discriminate.

A huge goal of public health in the US is to eliminate health disparities. We don’t want death to discriminate. We don’t want one subset of our population to be dying off at a disproportionate rate.

So we work to understand and modify the factors that lead to these health disparities. Of course, much of our work is made more different because genetics plays a role in many diseases. Abortion is a different matter. There is no innate inborn difference between blacks and whites that causes black babies to be aborted at a higher rate. The factors responsible for these deaths are much more straightforward. People are killing those babies. And people are killing more black babies than white babies.

This should not be.

If we were to learn that people were giving out free baby formula in a black neighborhood–and that kids were dying because the baby formula was tainted with melamine (as in last year’s China scare)–that wouldn’t necessarily mean that people were intentionally killing black babies. But they were doing it nonetheless. Maybe the distributors of the free formula intended the distribution to be a mercy (and I believe many abortion providers believe that they are doing their clients a service by “relieving” them of another mouth to feed.) But their good intentions don’t change the fact that they’re killing babies in general and black babies in particular.

And if someone wanted to stop babies from dying, I think they’d focus on the population that is having the most children die. They’d say “Black people, pay attention. Your babies are dying from this tainted milk. Take note. Adjust your lives accordingly.” That’s what we do in health promotion–we target the population that’s most at risk. Because that population would do well to know the risks–and to say to the well-intentioned killers “Thanks, but no thanks. Take your free formula elsewhere. We don’t want you killing our babies.” Just the same, I think it is valuable for blacks to be awakened to the silent genocide of their children (whether said genocide is a result of design or happenstance.)

To use the campaign’s example, let’s think about endangered species. Say there’s a certain species of animals that is being destroyed by, say, fertilizers being used on farmland. The population of this type of animal is dwindling. The farmers aren’t intentionally setting out to kill this animal, it’s just a consequence of what they’re doing to help them achieve their goals. But when an environmentalist becomes aware of this, they lobby for endangered species status for the animal and seek tighter regulation of the fertilizers that are killing it.

That’s what we do for animals. But when it is babies–precious black babies–whose population is dwindling and who are being threatened, are we to sit back and say “but they’re not intending to kill black babies”? No way! We should be outraged by the inequalities and injustice we see and should seek to do all we can to stop the slaughter.

And what can we do to stop the slaughter? I think the Georgia Right to Life is making a good first step. They’re raising awareness–letting people know that black children are being killed by abortion at appallingly disproportionate rates. We can also pray and vote and work towards increased regulation and eventually closure of the clinics that perpetuate this murder. We can work to change the circumstances that make people feel that it would be better to kill their babies rather than let them live–circumstances like poverty, promiscuity, and lack of male responsibility. We can pray that God would change the hearts of people. Yes, we can pray that God would change the hearts of politicians, but also of abortionists, of people who seek abortions, and of the silent masses who just don’t care about the brutal genocide of the unborn–those who don’t care because it hasn’t touched them.

We must awaken to the fact that the slaughter is real–killing just under half a million black babies a year. This should be a startling statistic, a cause for alarm, a call to action.

It doesn’t matter how well-intentioned the murders are–or whether they have anything specifically against blacks or not. The point is, they’re killing blacks–and killing a lot more blacks than they are whites. And if we are a church who is truly interested in social justice, we should be ringing the alarm and calling for and working toward an end to this silent genocide.

Categories Faith, Reflections

Thinking about God

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I mentioned last December, when I reviewed The Lord’s Supper: Five Views edited by Gordon Smith, that I had let my theological muscles grow flabby from misuse. I’ve also noticed, in my jaunts around the bookie blog-o-sphere, that my reading is lacking in one area: I don’t read much on God, on doctrine, on theology. What’s more, while I think for a living as a dietitian, a graduate student, and a teaching assistant, there’s one thing I’ve somehow stopped thinking about. I’ve stopped thinking about God.

I didn’t make any New Year’s Resolutions this year, but I have developed a goal of sorts, an emphasis for the year. I want to think about God this year. I want to exercise my mind towards the things of God. I want my mind to be renewed, my thoughts to be transformed by His thoughts. I want to become theologically buff.

So I’ve been reading, I’ve been listening, I’ve been digging in Scripture. And I’ve been thinking.

I can’t say that my thoughts are anything profound, but I’ve enjoyed trying to wrap my mind around the greatness of God, His mercy, His nature, His character. I’ve enjoyed thinking about God.

One night, I could barely sleep because I was thinking so much–and because I kept rolling over to turn on my bedside lamp so I could jot down a new thought. I figured I’d share a little of my late-night musings about God with you.

On God delighting in Himself:

We say that God delights in truth, but since God is truth (John 14:7), isn’t this the same as to say that God delights in Himself?

On purpose:

God has a purpose in what He does, but He cannot or does not have purpose in who He is. Unlike man, God is not created. He was not created to fulfill a specific function, as man was.

God has no purpose for existing except that He is. His purpose is simply to be who He is.

A non-created being is not a “functional item” designed for a specific purpose. He just is–and everything else, every created being, derives its function from who He is.

Because we are created beings, we have a specific reason for our existence. We exist for a specific purpose set by our creator (for His glory, to display His image.) God, however, was not created. He has reasons for doing things–but not a reason for existing. He simply exists. He is.

Therefore, the purposes of God in what He does are not linked to a higher goal, per se, but to His nature. He acts as an overflow of who He is and to reveal Himself. Because His “function”, His “purpose” is “to be”. I am, He calls Himself. He is not the rain god, the sun god, the moon god. He is. He is not defined by a function, but by His being.

I have a purpose for being. God just is.

He is because He is. I am because He is. He is the purpose, the meaning behind all that is–including Himself. His reason for existing? To be. He exists because He exists.

So why does God act as He does? He acts out of His reason for existing “I am”. He acts as He does because of who He is, and in order to reveal who He is.

It’s nothing profound. It’s certainly nothing polished–just the musings of a girl whose mind is coming out of its sleep. Just the musings of a mind newly awakened to explore the depths of her Lord.

My mind was made to behold His glory. He is to be beheld. How delightful to let my mind begin to fulfill its purpose. And, as the card on my wall says “When anything in creation fulfills its purpose, it brings glory to God.” And that is indeed my ultimate purpose–to bring glory to God with every fiber of my being, including my mind.

Categories Following Christ, Reflections

Assurance and Trust

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It’s amazing how you can read something or sing something a hundred times, but it can continue to have new meaning each and every time.

A little over a month ago, I was overwhelmed by the task that seemed to be looming before me, fearful for what the future might bring. And when I sat down to sing some old hymns, the fifth verse of “Trust and Obey” struck me.

Then in fellowship sweet,
we will sit at His feet,
Or we’ll walk by His side in the way
What He says we will do
Where He sends we will go
Never fear, only trust and obey.

He relieved my fears and gave me grace to trust Him for that particular path.

Now He has blocked the way along that particular path.

And new verses comfort my soul.

Not a burden we bear
Not a sorrow we share
But our toil He doth richly repay
Not a grief nor a loss
Not a frown nor a cross
But is blest if we trust and obey.

But we never can prove
the delights of His love
Until all on the altar we lay
For the favor He shows
and the joy He bestows
Are for them who will trust and obey.

I don’t want to lay my heart, my desire on the altar. It truly is a sorrow, a grief, a loss. But if, in giving this up, I can somehow prove the delights of His love, then surely my loss is not in vain. I will choose, despite the pain, to trust and obey.

Today, I moved from “Trust and Obey” to the nearby songs, categorized under the heading “Assurance and Trust”.

And God ministered to my broken soul through the words of “Be Still, My Soul.”

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
Thro thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

God IS for me (Romans 8:31). He is faithful (I Thessalonians 5:24). He will work all things (even my pain) together for good (Romans 8:28). I can be still. I can trust Him–in every change.

Be still, my soul
thy God doth undertake
to guide the future as He has the past
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake
All now mysterious shall be bright at last
Be still my soul
The waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below

God does not change (Hebrews 13:8). He was sovereign yesterday, and He is still sovereign today. Even though I don’t understand why, He does. And the circumstances are still under His power.

So be still, be still my soul. Rest in the arms of your Creator, your Pursuer, your Lover. Amidst the sorrow of this world, take delight in His unfailing grace. Find rest in Him alone.

Categories Faith

Faith (Hebrews 11)

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“But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.” Hebrews 11:6

And there we have it. A summary of my last few months.

Faith–trust in action.

Believing that God is who He says He is.

Sovereign.
Faithful.
Good.

Believing that God has good things in store for me when I seek Him.

By faith, I recognize the character of God, and by faith I place my life in His hands, even when–no, especially when–I cannot see either Him or His plan. Faith is the substance of what I hoped for–even when my hopes seem dashed. It is the evidence of what I cannot see through the cloud of circumstances (v.1).

Faith is knowing God’s sovereignty (v.3)
Faith is submitting to God whatever He asks of me (v.4)
Faith is being completely taken with God (v.5)
Faith is preparing (v.6)
Faith is obeying (v.8)
Faith is letting God work within me (v.11)
Faith is sacrificing what I thought was a fulfillment of the promise (v.17)
Faith is blessing when I feel like cursing (v.20)
Faith is clinging to the promise to my deathbed (v.21)
Faith is ignoring the world’s way–choosing to take the hard route to follow Christ (v.23-29)

Faith is believing that God is and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him when…
…I subdue kingdoms
…I work righteousness
…I obtain promises
…I stop the mouth of lions
…I quench the violence of fire
…I escape the edge of the sword
…I am made strong out of weakness
…I become valiant in battle
…I turn to flight the armies of my enemies
…I receive my dead raised to life again

Faith is believing that God is and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him when…
…I am tortured
…I do not accept deliverance
…I have trials of mockings and scourgings
…I am in chains and imprisoned
…I am stoned
…I am sawn in two
…I am tempted
…I am slain with a sword
…I wander about
…I am destitute
…I am afflicted
…I am tormented

Faith is believing that God is and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him regardless of my circumstances.

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!

Categories Faith, Reflections

Goal-oriented Gal

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“If I could do a tenth of what you do…” my dad told me in the car yesterday.

I couldn’t help but be confused. I don’t know what sparked the comment. We hadn’t been discussing busyness or schedules or goals or anything.

He clarified his thoughts (a little). “You’re so goal oriented. Almost to a fault. I just can’t imagine doing as much as you do.”

I still don’t know what brought on his observation, but he’s probably right.

I am a massively goal-oriented person. I figure out what I want to do and I find a way to get it done. My list of Life Goals is dozens of pages long (and I’ve only included some of my life goals online.) And though many of my goals are undone, incomplete, or in progress, I have managed to accomplish quite a deal in my first quarter century of life.

The difficulty enters in my dad’s second comment: “Almost to a fault.” He wasn’t meaning it as a criticism. He wasn’t putting me down. But I am aware that one of my greatest strengths is also one of my greatest weaknesses.

I am goal-oriented. It means that I get things done. I accomplish a lot. I have lived a life rich with experiences and accomplishments (even for someone only a quarter of a century old).

But sometimes my goals distract me from the greater purpose in life. The purpose that can’t be formulated as a specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and timely (SMART) goal. The purpose of glorifying God. The purpose of walking in relationship with Him and others.

Too busy with my blog, I neglect the Word. I bow out of relationship because I’m too busy getting something done.

It’s a dangerous road, a fine line that I must learn to walk.

I believe that it is to God’s glory that I enjoy life. It is to His glory that I accomplish things. He is glorified when I use my goal-oriented personality.

But He is not glorified when I follow my goals rather than His Spirit. He is not glorified when I choose things over people. He is not glorified in my becoming internally focused.

I must learn, somehow, to use my temperament to glorify God–to be goal oriented, yes, but not to a fault. I may be goal-oriented, but above that I must be God-oriented.

That is the ultimate goal–but the one that is most difficult in its accomplishment.