History judges great men

Have you ever had that idea in the back of your mind that you're destined for greatness? Everyone else around here might be content with normal but God has something so much bigger planned for your life. You can't really put your finger on it exactly but with all your potential you just know you're bound for great things. Now I do recognize that Jesus says things like, "The last will be first and the first will be last." I used to think that meant my delusions of grandeur were not biblically founded. I was suppose to want to be the ultimate servant, to help everybody else out at my own expense. But the more I come to understand Jesus I don't think that's quite what He meant. If you recognize that that statement comes in the midst of a conversation about selling all you have and giving to the poor, and how the disciples gave everything they had to follow Jesus, then it almost seems like that's the very secret of greatness. He's not redefining greatness like I used to think. He's redefining how to get there. How many of us don't think the disciples were great, or Adoniram Judson, or Jim Elliot, or Mother Theresa. Their greatness comes from actually following Jesus instead of just reading about Him and studying Him. They lived out what He said and history doesn't know what to make of it. It doesn't make sense why they would give up their lives to love people, but that's exactly why they're remembered as great. Shane Claiborne quotes Mother Theresa as saying, "We can do no great things, just small things with great love. It is not how much you do, but how much love you put into doing it." (Check out Shane's book The Irresistable Revolution) We all talk about pursuing excellence or greatness in what we do. How about we start pursuing excellently living out what Jesus said. When was the last time you heard somebody say 'I want to be really good at following Jesus.' Maybe when we stop trying to be great theologians, or great speakers, or great Christians, and just become great lovers of the poor, the fatherless, and the widowed, maybe then we'll be a little closer to what it means to follow Jesus.

Dare you to move

"The Lord will work out His plans for my life--for Your faithful love, O Lord, endures forever. Don't abandon me, for You made me." Ps 138:8

I'm kind of sick of suburban culture for what it reveals in my life. (I started to write "for what it makes me into" but it doesn't 'make' me. If it wasn't in me in the first place then I wouldn't act the way I do. So I say the culture reveals things in me that I don't like to see.) I spent some time with my brother and nephew tonight. We went to a little arcade where he could play games for a quarter and we could get some pizza. My brother says it's good to take a break and laugh and play and put life behind you for a little while to get your mind off the stress. In suburbia we stress about stupid stuff like what to wear today or what restaraunt to eat at or what movie to watch tonight. Somewhere somebody's stressing about what their kids going to eat tomorrow, how they're going to pay for last months rent, when they're gonna get a break and be able to get ahead. And I'm not even talking Africa, because that's far worse, but I'm not in Africa. I'm sitting on my couch flipping channels while somebody just down the road is barely scraping by. Why do I let myself put so much value in things that don't matter? Why do I waste my life away on my own comforts when there's so many people right outside my door that need to be loved? My complacency is my own discontentment. I wonder if helping someone else get their mind off their problems isn't more theraputic for me in the end. I'm reminded of a few things I've learned over many trips to Namibia that I'll end with...1) God put each of us in our own unique circumstances for a reason, 2) There are 'invisible children' everywhere, and 3) You can't save them all, but you can make all the difference to the one right in front of you.

First 'blog post' of 2007

I'm struck deep by Augustine's illustration of carrying this burden of sin like a burden of sleep, something we know we need to wake from but find it so difficult to do. All this talk of sin recently has brought me face to face with grace. The kind of grace that surrounds any interaction with the Almighty, so much so that it's dripping with it. The kind of grace that covers us and smooths out all the bumps like liquid chocolate on a strawberry. The irony is I try so hard to avoid grace in my efforts to be perfect. I do everything I can to convince others and myself that I don't need grace. But the truth is, if it were not for my sin, my bumps, I would never know the grace of God. So the very thing I'm hiding from is the very thing that will lead me to Him. Afterall, it was the spiritual ones who thought they 'got it' that Jesus so heavily criticized. It was the messy people that surrounded Him. To a helplessly devoted perfectionist, this is a hard pill to swallow. And living in a culture that performs for it's approval, this doesn't make any sense. We do everything we can to look good, and surround ourselves with people that will only make us look better. This upside-down nature of grace doesn't fit the system of life that I've created for myself. That's why it's so much easier to roll over and go back to sleep, even though I know it's far better to be awake, I just don't know how to live there. So I'm left to battle my culture, and myself, not for first place, but for last, not to be greater, but to be less. It's a tough battle because it goes against everything I've ever known. But there's a joy that I know can never be found on this side of the battle, which leaves only the fight. And that's why I can never give up. It's worth it, and heaven knows I can be pretty stubborn sometimes. :)

Confessions

Accompanying my recent thoughts on sin has been my reading through St. Augustine's Confessions. The following passage is an excellent commentary on Romans 7. I know it's long and it'll take some wading through the olde rhetoric but it's so intense, it's worth the trouble. And just so you know, he writes in prayers so 'you' refers to God.

"The enemy held my will in his power and from it he had made a chain and shackled me. For my will was perverse and lust had grown from it, and when I gave in to lust, habit was born, and when I did not resist the habit it became a necessity. These were the links which together formed what I have called my chain, and it held me fast in the duress of servitude. But the new will which had come to life in me and made me wish to serve you freely and enjoy you, my God, who are our only certain joy, was not yet strong enough to overcome the old, hardened as it was by the passage of time. So these two wills within me, one old, one new, one the servant of the flesh, the other of the spirit, were in conflict and between them they tore my soul apart....

"Instead of fearing, as I ought, to be held back by all that encumbered me, I was frightened to be free of it. In fact I bore the burden of the world as contentedly as one sometimes bears a heavy load of sleep. My thoughts, as I meditated upon you, were like the efforts of a man who tries to wake but cannot and sinks back into the depths of slumber. No one wants to sleep forever, for everyone rightly agrees that it is better to be awake. Yet a man often staves off the effort to rouse himself when his body is leaden with inertia. He is glad to settle down once more, although it is against his better judgement and it is already time he were up and about. In the same way I was quite sure that it was better for me to give myself up to your love than to surrender to my own lust. But while I wanted to follow the first course and was convinced that it was right, I was still a slave to the pleasures of the second....

"For the rule of sin is the force of habit, by which the mind is swept along and held fast even against its will, yet deservedly, because it fell into the habit of its own accord. 'Pitiable creature that I was, who was to set me free from a nature thus doomed to death? Nothing else than the grace of God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.'"

I'm schizophrenic, and so am I.

Sometimes I wonder how much I really understand this whole life as a Christian thing. It seems some of the time I think the point is to be more like Christ. That's kinda been drilled into our heads, especially with the whole 'What Would Jesus Do' scheme. So when that's my goal I create in my mind a linear chart I call "spiritual maturity" where the longer I'm a Christian the closer I get toward actual perfection. I understand God as one who is pleased when I do well and frowns when I sin saying, "Well you're forgiven in Christ, but don't do that again." But then I do and the frustration and disappointment floods back again and my chart takes a dive. What I don't realize is that in charting my progress I'm the judge of what sins are worthy to keep one from 'greater spiritual maturity' and which ones can be quietly overlooked. So for example, I could go a whole day being completely selfish but without blowing up at anybody, being dishonest, or looking at porn and I think I'm one step closer to perfection, as if God's impressed with my display of what I call 'good Christianity'. I don't often think this way consciously in my mind, but that's frequently how I live out my life.

Then sometimes, when I'm sitting in utter depression because I screwed up and let God down, I think the whole point is something more like 'Jesus loves me, this I know.' And if that's the case, then 'moral failure' and the resulting 'guilt' simply become more opportunity for Him to pour out His love on me. Not that I purposefully sin so that grace may abound - by no means - but when I do it takes a sideline to the overwhelming joy of God's grace. I understand God as one who is just waiting for the opportunity to pour out His grace and forgiveness that I may glory in His love for me. As a result, I lose the utter hatred for everything that goes against the character of God. Sin, all of a sudden, while never ok, is not so bad because with it comes a lavishing of grace.

So most of the time I end up sitting under the harmonious contradiction of God's love and His holiness, His mercy and His justice. That's usually when I crank the volume on the stereo and set the song When I Survey The Wondrous Cross on repeat. My dad told me that the Western mind always needs to connect the dots, to find some reasonable explanation to figure out the mystery. The Eastern mind on the other hand (our Jewish brothers who wrote the Bible), are completely content leaving different concepts in different boxes. They're ok with a holy God that loves sinners. To me that seems like a paradox that I'm left struggling to figure out...

"When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride...."