Another milestone.
Yesterday, our fifth child, Jerusha, was asking to be let down from her high chair. Tonight, she is asking for the car keys.
This afternoon, she took her driver’s test and contrary to her announced expectations (but conforming to her inward hopes), she passed.
Wow. Congratulations, J.
We’re proud of you!
Technorati Tags: Family
Jiminy Cricket woos us:
When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you
Yeah, right. I know better, but I confess to acting this way. I love to wish away conflict.
As a pastor I have season tickets to a ringside seat to conflict. Sometimes, I’m actually in the ring. And try as I might, wishing conflict away just does not produce satisfying results.
So, I have been urged over the years to pick up a copy of The Peacemaking Pastor by Alfred Poirier. A year ago, I did. Starting now to read it, I’ve been given a glimpse of what pastoral ministry could be but often isn’t. This has humbled and shamed me, which is good, because through that I’m able to look up to a better way.
If you have any leadership role in any society of Christians, pick it up and read chapter 9. Then let me know what you think. I promise – he packs a punch, but he punches gently and with grace.
Here is a sample of Poirer’s reflections from that chapter. He notes that pastors and elders are quick to rush to the hospital and to hold the hands of those suffering from physical illness, but they are quick to run from or ignore conflict.
“There is a great disconnect here. How is it that on the one hand we who specialize in comforting the suffering at the same time flee from assisting the conflicted? Why does physical suffering demand our attention and pull on our heartstrings when the soul-crippling disease of sinful conflict does not? Why are we fleet of foot to alleviate physical suffering yet guilty of foot-dragging in our efforts to alleviate conflict? I do not have answers to these questions. They haunt me. They shame me.” (pages 194-195)
Yeah. Me, too.
Poirer excellently links conflict resolution inextricably to the knowledge of the Gospel, drawing this convincingly from the example of Paul in his letters. I (we?) flee from or ignore conflict quite possibly because we have yet to understand or believe in the power of the gospel.
Technorati Tags: Conflict
I have for twenty plus years lived and breathed a culture of extreme conservatism. I have not only smoked Rush Limbaugh, but I inhaled. For a while, I was into the harder stuff – even a few trips on Rushdoony, I must confess. Many of my friends continue to do so, though I gave up the nasty habits several years ago.
That culture has created an industry of mockery and mistrust of everything but business and free market economics. One of the targets of this mockery has been those who have fought hard over the years for higher environmental standards. I joined in the mockery.
But the other day, I rode my bike to work. I marveled at the clear blue sky overhead, the norm for life here on ‘the Suncoast’. And I could not help but compare that to the pictures being beamed back from Beijing or to the stories I’ve heard of Mexico City and elsewhere in the world. I breathed and relished the beauty of God’s creation.
And I began to think – perhaps those ‘environmental wackos’ have not been so wacko at all. Perhaps we owe them not mockery but thanks. Perhaps we need to take care what we smoke.
Technorati Tags: Environment
Forget for a moment the points at which you agree or disagree with this author’s post. I simply want you to consider the following observations.
When did being moved by a deep desire to bring the eternal hope of the gospel to all men by all means become a punishable offense and the desire to punch and kick the ass of those who desire such become trendy? When did having a broken heart for the lost and attempting therefore to remove all artificial barriers between the church and the world become sinful? About the same time that boasting of one’s violent passions was added to the fruit of the Spirit? I guess so.
Don’t misunderstand me. I get and I appreciate hyperbole. But I also understand arrogance. I’m intimately acquainted with it. I hate it in me. I hate it when I see it in the church growth types who claim that they will do church unlike the church the world grew up hating. And I hate it when I see it tossed about with the air of urgent superiority by those who claim to be able to do ministry untainted by the stain of he modern world. No matter how pure you claim to be, you are not above the fray.
So the Julies of the world are leaving the church, and are doing so for noble reasons. Are there ever noble reasons for disobedience to Christ? Are her reasons more acceptable than the guy who leaves church in order to pursue his passion racing go carts? or to start a business? or to work on his golf game? I think not. One can only hope that the church she is giving up on pastorally pursues her. (Or perhaps she has been so ungraciously critical that they are glad to see her go.)
Should we be concerned about losing the Julies of the world? Those men I know who long for the expansion of Christ’s kingdom are not unconcerned for Julie. But they are also desperately concerned for the Bills and the Mikes and the Beths and the Martas whom the church has not found a way to reach. I’m deeply disturbed when shots are taken at men seeking to bring the gospel to all people (imperfectly to be sure) without revealing that those taking the shots know the hearts of these men.
By all means lets be in conversation. Let’s hear from one another. Let’s sharpen one another. But let’s grow up and stop throwing darts at one another. We have an enemy who is all too willing to do that. He does not need our help.
[For the record, Julie’s longing for genuine community in church merged with a respect for the grandness of God is a passion I share. I like to think that she’d be comfortable at HPC. I also know this is the passion shared by many men who are pastoring what some might call gargantuan churches. It is the attitude of disdain for one another and the stereotyping revealed in the linked post that disturbs me most.]
While I’m equivocating (establishing an argument through subtly allowing the definitions of words to ‘morph’ in the midst of the argument) I’d like to add to yesterday’s post (in which I longed to be reformed, charismatic, and catholic all at the same time) the footnote that in my presbyterian church, I have a ton of pentecostals.
Of course, anyone walking into our service looking for pentecostal fire would confront cultural shock of epic proportions. But in another sense, we are very pentecostal.
A while back, I was meeting with a group of key leaders and asked them to tell me what their ideal worship service would look like. Their answers varied, of course. But to a man they were all expressing their desires for worship in a way that was rooted in an experience of past worship and in their own emotional response to God. Many longed for worship that was akin to what they had grown up with, worship which, no doubt, evoked pleasant feelings and memories.
I inwardly chuckled at this. For all our talk of objective and biblical liturgy, when we peal away the surface, we tend to most respond to and long for worship that makes us feel good.
The critique those in our tradition often level at pentecostals is that they are all about emotional response. I think we are not too far removed from that, if at all. And I’m not sure that is really such a bad thing.
Let me refer you to Geoff’s blog again where he is not afraid to clearly expose what he finds to be some problematic thinking and practice. In a recent post he critiqued those who seem to use the Holy Spirit as an excuse for their careless or inappropriate comments. At the same time he was not afraid a few days later to speak of the Spirit’s leadership in his own life, a message (a great sermon, by the way, and worth listening to) that caused some to raise eyebrows, and him to offer an explanation.
One of the comments to his blog made mention of having been affiliated with people of a ‘charismatic persuasion’, which made me think of a desire that I have. I would like to be a reformed, charismatic catholic. It’s possible, isn’t it?
My reformed theology gives me a grand vision of God and a bottomless reservoir of well-founded hope.
At the same time, I must be dependent upon the gift-giving Spirit of God. Far more than I do I should seek his giftedness and lead the congregation I serve to do the same, all for the edification of his church and the building up of his kingdom. I want, you see, to be more charismatic.
As well, I’ve had to learn over the years that the church is bigger than my church and that the kingdom is bigger than my denomination. The work of God will be carried on by a large, universal body of God’s people spread across political and cultural boundaries and across denominational lines. The church is universal; it is catholic. And I’m excited (or should be) to see it prosper in colors with which I might not be personally comfortable.
That is, I want to be a reformed, charismatic catholic.
Yes, I see the equivocation in this, but I hope I, and others, see the importance of it.
Technorati Tags: Church
If you came upon ten men carrying a pole, and nine of them were carrying the skinny, light end and one was burdened with the fat, heavy end, to which end of the pole would you rush to help?
That illustration was one that motivated Barb and I to pursue missions, a pursuit which God has not yet seen fit to fulfill. The reality is that 90% of Christian workers are working among the the 10% of the world’s population where Christianity is already established. Only 10% of Christian workers are laboring in fields where 90% of the non-Christians are. To rush to the fat, underserved end seems to make sense.
Paradoxuganda, as missionary doctors, make this point graphically and poignantly in this post. I encourage you reading the whole.
“Why not send the doctors and nurses and malaria medicines and hospital equipment and public health research and educational outreach to the epicenters of disease? Well, the maps for health workers are actually the INVERSE of the maps for disease. Uganda ranks 129 of 135 countries with data for physician coverage, with 0.08 doctors per 1000 population, and only 39% of births attended by skilled personnel. I hope that medical schools and mission agencies spend time reviewing data like this . . . .”
Technorati Tags: Missions
Took me about 20 seconds to log in to the WiFi at a Starbucks this morning, as it should be. For the back story on this, see here, and here, and here, and here.
I am at a different Starbucks, not the one I normally frequent. So, I think I’ve isolated the problem.
* * * * *
There is an attitude at Starbucks that I appreciate. The manager of my regular shop and I agree: Starbucks is not selling coffee. They are selling ‘space’. She calls it, ‘the third space’, joining home and work. It is a place to gather, to hang out, to be that is neutral. It is, I think, what the pub must be in England. An unless you want to use the internet, they don’t expect that you will buy something (though I have a hard time being here and not doing just that).
Starbucks, then, fills a niche, serves a need, and people seek it out. To many, the church fills no niche and serves no need. It is seen as so peripheral to most people. How do we change that?
Many of you who read this blog read my associate Geoff Henderson’s blog as well. Geoff and I are in some respects as different as… well, I wanted to insert a clever simile, but Geoff recently used the most creative simile I’ve seen in some time, so I’m hesitant to try and top him. (He remarked that two sermons we preached apparently “went together like the Tampa Bay Rays and first place.” How can I top that?) We are different, but in other ways we are very much alike.
Geoff has run a very interesting reflection on persecution as a measure of our Christian faithfulness. If you’ve not seen it, you can read it here, here, here, and here. He wrestles with the question in a challenging way and as he does he acknowledges that sometimes Christians can be too timid (that shoe fits comfortably) and others can be bold to the point of obnoxious.
Apparently wrestling with proper Christian demeanor is not a new struggle. There in the back is Jonathan Edwards raising his hand to be recognized. Yes, Mr. Edwards?
“There is a pretended boldness for Christ that arises from no better principle than pride. A man may be forward to expose himself to the dislike of the world, and even to provoke their displeasure, out of pride. For ’tis the nature of spiritual pride to cause men to seek distinction and singularity; and so oftentimes to set themselves at war with those that they call carnal, that they may be more highly exalted among their party. True boldness for Christ is universal and overcomes all, and carries ’em above the displeasure of friends and foes; so that they will forsake all rather than Christ and will rather offend all parties, and be thought meanly of by all, than offend Christ. And that duty which tries whether a man is willing to be despised by them that are of his own party, and thought the least worthy to be regarded by them, is a much more proper trial of his boldness for Christ, than his being forward to expose himself to the reproach of opposers. The Apostle sought not glory, not only of heathens and Jews, but of Christians; as he declares (I Thess. 2:26).
“He is bold for Christ, that has Christian fortitude enough, to confess his fault openly, when he has committed one that requires it, and as it were to come down upon his knees before opposers. Such things as these are a vastly greater evidence of holy boldness, than resolutely and fiercely confronting opposers.”
Religious Affections, page 352 (The contractions are Edwards’ own. That’s the way he did ’em.)
Thank you Mr. Edwards. I believe your sentiments echo well those spoken by Mr. Henderson. However, I think you would agree as well that timidity, my own and others, easily grows from the same root, our insidious pride.
Technorati Tags: Edwards, Ministry, Outreach, Persecution
Pour me a glass of wine
Talk deep into the night
Who knows what we’ll find– “Born”, Over the Rhine
* * * * *
My wife and I recently enjoyed a few days in Chicago celebrating our 30th anniversary (we married VERY young, of course). We had a great time, but removing us from our ‘native environment’ of work and children and schedules and deadlines and the rest showed us that though we still are deeply in love with one another, we may have forgotten how to really talk with one another. And talking (to, not at, one another), I am convinced, is one of the keys to a deep and meaningful relationship. So, the trip was a good reminder of some important things that we should seek to nourish between us.
The importance of maintaining a deep conversational relationship is captured in the experience of the husband and wife musical duo Over the Rhine (whose music I love). The husband, Linford Detweiler, tells the story this way:
A few months into our national tour, Karin and I realized that although good things were happening with our music, there was just very little energy or creativity or time left over for our marriage, and it was taking a toll on us. I think we had to learn that putting a long-term relationship on autopilot indefinitely can be dangerous if not fatal. We decided we had to pull the plug on the tour and go home and figure out if being together was something we were still committed to.
We opted to start over, reinvent our own relationship, dig deep and do the homework to see if we could make our marriage sing. We decided to redirect the same thought and energy, that we had been putting into writing and performing, toward our life at home together. We prayed a lot. Our friends prayed a lot. It was the beginning of a wonderful new chapter for us. And hopefully, some of what we’ve learned has not only made us better people, but better songwriters as well.
(The emphasis is mine.)
One of the methods they used to connect is reflected in Detweiler’s notes regarding their song ‘Born‘:
When we came home from the tour, we bought two cases of wine and decided we were going to put a bottle on the kitchen table every evening and start talking until nothing was left. The idea was not to get piss-drunk, but to talk face to face deep into the night.
I cannot imagine what the implications might have been for a popular band to cancel a tour. I’m sure it was costly for them. But I find it rare that couples are willing to make the sacrifices necessary to address the deep issues that are affecting them. There is a good model for us here.
* * * * *
I was born to laugh
I learned to laugh through my tears
I was born to love
I’m gonna learn to love without fear
(By the way – clicking here will take you to a site where you can listen to the song.)
Technorati Tags: Marriage
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