Randy Greenwald

Concerning Life as It Is Supposed to Be

Two Front Teeth, and a Couple Other Things: A Kitchen Scale

Black Friday had come and gone, and so perhaps many of you already have your Christmas shopping complete. For those of you who don’t, let me recommend an item for those who love to hang out in the kitchen. In my thinking, right up there with ‘oven’ and ‘refrigerator’ in the pantheon of indispensable kitchen things is the digital kitchen scale.

Why?

First, accuracy. It is notoriously difficult to measure flour with consistent accuracy. Various methods are used, but only one is consistent: weighing the flour. One cup of flour weighs 120 grams. If you try to scoop the flour, you compress it. If the flour has been sifted, it is fluffy and full of air. One cup of compressed flour does not equal one cup of fluffy flour. But 120 grams is always 120 grams. With a scale, there is no guesswork.

Secondly, it is so much easier and cleaner to measure ingredients by weight. We make our own sloppy joes. The sauce is composed of a cup of this and three tablespoons of that. When done, the counter is littered with a variety of measuring tools all of which need to be cleaned. With the scale, I put a bowl on the scale, and proceed to add the ketchup, the mustard, the vinegar, the sugar, and so on, by weight to the single bowl. I need not dirty a single measuring tool. When all the ingredients are added, I mix them in the bowl and add them to the fried hamburger. Simple and made so much simpler by the scale.

Third, for the borderline OCD like myself, I love knowing that ALL my hamburger patties are within a fraction of a precise 5 ounces. It’s a beautiful thing.

And finally, conversion. I have my own pancake recipe which the family is fond of. I mix the dry ingredients ahead of time and store them so that when we want pancakes, all I need to do is to mix the liquid ingredients, drop in the right amount of dry ingredients, mix, and fry. One day I was preparing to make a batch of the dry mix only to discover that instead of the necessary 960 grams of flour (i.e. 8 cups) I only had 690 grams. That is, I only had 72% of what I needed.

Now, if one was measuring in cups and tablespoons, how quickly could you calculate and then measure 72% of the necessary 6 teaspoons of baking soda? With a scale, all it takes is a calculator. 35 grams instead of 48 grams. Piece of (pan)cake.

We’ve had a couple scales over the years, but the one which has served us well is the Escali. Accurate, easy to use, durable, and cheap. And the pink one made my daughter-in-law especially happy.

So, I’m happy here to pass your way a very good and very special pancake recipe. But, alas, as you will see, there is a catch.

Enjoy!

Flour – 135g
Baking Soda – 7g
Sugar – 29g
Salt – 2g
Egg 1
Oil (or butter) – 28g
Buttermilk – 240g

Makes about 8 decent sized pancakes.

Two Front Teeth, and a Couple Other Things: A One-Volume Bible Commentary

The debate in the newspaper this morning is whether ‘Black Friday’ will creep into becoming ‘Black Thursday’. I find that grievous thought on several levels. Those who move Christmas shopping earlier in the season have a champion in my sister who called about a week or so ago asking about something my son might want. I had not begun to think about such things. She had.

Since it is that season, and since there are those of you out there making plans now about what to give then, I’d like to step into the role of Recommender of Gifts, if only for a couple of posts. This post will be dedicated to feeding the soul, the next to feeding the body. And I tend to think that at a critical level the two are related.

First, the soul.

The Christian who is hungry to know God will, we hope, read his Bible. If he does, he will regularly run into portions which seem to raise more questions than they answer. What will he do then?

1. Nothing.

2. Ask his pastor.

3. Check the notes in his study Bible.

4. Look up an answer on-line.

5. Read up on it in the free public domain digital copy of Matthew Henry he got free from a good friend.

Sometimes doing nothing is not a bad choice. It depends upon how troubling the passage is and the amount of time available. Further, it is often good to allow a passage to percolate in one’s own mind before rushing off too quickly to get someone else’s ‘authoritative’ insight, which may be presented with more authority than it ought.

Surprisingly, ‘2’ is really not often pursued. While as a pastor, I don’t want to set up shop as a Bible Answer Man, and most pastors would not have the time to answer with clarity and thought every question that might come his way, nevertheless sometimes I wonder why this route is avoided. There is an alternative, though, which in most cases is far better.

I am no more a fan of study Bibles than I am of red letter ones. Some, for sure, have great notes, but not all. My opposition is not based upon the physical bulk added, and only partially for the profit motive added to their production. My concern is that by adding commentary to the text of the Bible, we do two deleterious things. First, we short-circuit the reader’s own reflective thinking about a puzzling text. Instead of meditating upon the text, the reader’s eyes too easily head to the notes to find ‘the answer’. Secondly, by putting an interpretation of a text on the same page as the text, the separation between the two is blurred. We will tend to grant an authority to the notes which should be reserved for the text.

To look up an answer on-line can open us to all kinds of horrors. It is like on-line dating without the eHarmony screening. And as much respect as I have for the ministry and insight of Matthew Henry, and as much as we all like the word ‘free’, his insights are not always helpful in answering the questions we might be asking about a text.

So there must be a better way.

A brilliant solution, of course, would be to take study notes by trusted biblical authorities and publish them in a separate book, distinct from the Biblical text, but still convenient enough to be reached for when the need arises. I once suggested this in a letter to R. C. Sproul who was at the time busy at work on the New Geneva Study Bible. He did not see it for the brilliant idea it was.

A few weeks ago, though, I realized that a resource I already regularly used was really the resource I was envisioning. As a result, I have begun to recommend widely the New Bible Commentary, a one volume commentary on the Bible published by InterVarsity Press. Edited by four of the most highly regarded evangelical Biblical scholars of our day (Gordan Wenham, R. T. France, D. A. Carson, and Alec Motyer), this is wonderfully useful and trustworthy tool. Its concise commentary on every passage of every book of the Bible may not always answer all the questions we have, but it more often than not sheds light on books and passages which may otherwise seem obscure or impenetrable.

This is not a volume you can stuff in your back pocket or cart around to your next small group meeting (it is 2½ inches thick!). But at 2¢/page (if my math is correct) it is a gift that any who often read and ponder the Bible will love for a long, long time.

+ + + +

Full disclosure: I receive nothing from IVP for the endorsement of this book. But if you follow the link above and buy the book, Amazon gives me a kickback. I feel a bit self-serving in pasting such links in my blog, but if Amazon wants to support my blog in that way, I’m happy to let them.

Physics for Future Presidents

The cover of my copy of Richard Muller’s Physics for Future Presidents is crowned with a quote from Nobel Prize winning physicist Steven Weinberg in his review written for The Boston Globe. The quote says simply, “A triumph.”

I’m not sure what to make of that. The review itself as far as I can tell is inaccessible to all but subscribers to the Boston Globe. A triumph of what? A triumph over what? I would love to see the point being made. Muller is a professor of physics at UC, Berkeley and has taken this book, subtitled “The Science behind the Headlines” from a popular course taught there for non-science students.

The idea for the course/book is in fact brilliant, perhaps even a triumph. (I should like to write a book, or see someone write, “Theology for Future Presidents”. It wouldn’t necessarily be a triumph of any sort, but it could be helpful to inject some careful thought about theological and religious issues into current political debate.) Muller’s intention is to bring a sense of objective scientific understanding to the issues of the day, specifically terrorism, energy, nuclear war/power, space exploration, and climate change.

His intention is fulfilled. That he intended to accomplish this without bias (“Just the facts, ma’am”) is cute, but always impossible. I do feel that I know more now about the science behind many of the current debates. But I know enough as well to realize that no objective treatment of such hot issues is ever possible. I resist the scientists’ claim to absolute objectivity. As much as any of us may want to follow the facts where they lead, we must be aware, with much humility, that our interpretation and application of the facts will be always tainted with our own subjective predisposition.

It is good that he attacks his goal with non-technical language. But is there a reason the book reads as if it were intended for a sixth grader? Simple sentences predominate. Perhaps he feels that this style better communicates. Perhaps this is his assessment of the intellectual capacity of those who might aspire to the land’s highest office. The book’s triumph is certainly not literary.

Don’t let my quibbles mislead, however. Good information is here. I won’t remember the statistics that suggest that the danger from nuclear power plants is minimal, but I will have a resource to which I can turn if I need to defend that case. I have been made to think and to reflect upon the value of manned space exploration and the legitimacy of the science behind global warming. I’m grateful that he removes from the table the fears which lead to panic regarding the possibilities of a mass terrorist attack. There is good stuff here. A helpful resource, for sure. An accomplishment if not a triumph.

Muller, some of you may know, was a staunch critic of the science of climate change until a Koch brothers’ funded research project led him to refine his position, to the consternation of his benefactors. (This led to his being crowned a ‘brave thinker‘ by the Atlantic.) Curiously, critics of the book in on-line reviews slam it for its harsh treatment of Al Gore and those standing with him. And yet, the edition which I have read begins the section on global warming with a sentence which reads, “…as our most recent Nobel Peace Prize laureate, form Vice President Al Gore, says in his powerful Academy Award-winning documentary An Inconvenient Truth (2006)….” If he is a Gore critic, I’d be interested in seeing what Gore’s fans might say. He critiques the extreme presentation of the evidence of global warming, even that which is found in Gore’s film, as unhelpful. I find his critique of sloppy reasoning to be the most beneficial aspect of the book, for sloppy reasoning is found everywhere in political debate.

Is the book a triumph? No. Helpful? For sure.

Soul Doctor

Prone to self-pity, I told my wife the other day that I must like despair like some like ice cream since I indulge so often. But though our thoughts may be trained to flow down well-worn channels, we are never meant to stay there.

My Bible reading plan for the other morning had me reading the book of Lamentations. This is by no means the first place I’d go to or recommend going to when one is feeling the weight of life, and I had little hope of the morning’s reading bringing much comfort.

But the prophet Jeremiah, the book’s reluctant author, has been nicknamed ‘the weeping prophet’ not because he curled up in a useless puddle in the face of the affairs of life, but because he gave expression to the frustrations that life brought to him. He took those frustrations to the One whom he believed to be the source of life.

He wrote as the city of Jerusalem fell apart around him under a Babylonian siege. That siege, Jeremiah had repeatedly pointed out, was the judgment of God upon the squishy, superficial spirituality of Israel. God had had enough and was bringing his promised judgment.

As I sat in “Dr. Jeremiah’s” couch, he showed me that affliction and sin all mixed up and confounded can drag one from freedom to bondage.

“She who was a princess among the provinces has become a slave.” (1:1)

He showed me as well that it is okay to trace this to its source.

“…because the LORD has afflicted her for the multitude of her transgressions.” (1:5)

The cause may be my sin, but the source of the affliction is and always will be God. It does not help to try to sidestep God’s sovereignty when we are suffering. In fact, it is appropriate to give full vent to how this makes us feel.

“The Lord has swallowed up without mercy all the habitations of Jacob….” (2:2)

It seems wrong to accuse God of acting “without mercy”, but when that is the way it feels, that is what we need to say. But in Jeremiah I see as well one who, giving vent to bitter honesty, cannot remain at the place of bitter honesty. That is the case with any who truly know God. Yes speaking with such honesty is good, but we must at some point emerge elsewhere.

“The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” (3:22, 23)

I want to live in that verse, but I often don’t. I think that one of the reasons public worship is so important is that being with God’s people under the ministry of God’s word is a place where, if even for a brief moment, God can move us from the despair of 2:2 to the affirmation of 3:22, 23.

But we want to be there always, not just for a brief moment, we protest from Dr. Jeremiah’s couch. He knows that. But he also knows that in God’s wisdom there is ordained a time for everything under heaven, and for some times we must wait.

“The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.” (3:25, 26)

Waiting is something foreign to me and to many others. Waiting is not what spoiled and soft children are prone to practice. But waiting, nevertheless, is what God demands.

It does not take one long to realize that the afflictions facing the Israelites and observed and experienced by Jeremiah were far worse than those faced by the readers of this blog (both of us). Nevertheless, ours FEEL as real and as painful and the hard place for all of us is to wait quietly. Quiet waiting is a far better place than quiet (or noisy) desperation.

And so Dr. Jeremiah dismisses us from his office with a prayer purged of complaint and focused as it ought to be.

“Restore us to yourself, O LORD, that we may be restored! Renew our days as of old….” (5:21)

The ellipses can be used to hide things to make the text say what I want it to say. Many writers hide behind abbreviated texts. Here note that I have dropped an important qualifier from the text.

“…unless you have utterly rejected us, and you remain exceedingly angry with us.’

What Jeremiah could only sense is what we know to be fact – that we may trust in one who was utterly rejected for us, so that we might know that God would never remain exceedingly angry with us.

With that hope we leave our appointment with this soul doctor. And the good thing is that his consultation was free.

Matterhorn: Madness! Madness!

At age 18 I drew, or was assigned, #31 in the 1975 Vietnam draft lottery, nearly insuring a trip to Vietnam. I promptly filed for and was granted conscientious objector status. I never went to Vietnam and no one close to me did either.

Since then, its memory has not been something I have had to often face. Even though I have been an avid devourer of movies, I have managed to avoid all of those set in Vietnam or attempting to come to grips with that war, with the sole exception of We Were Soldiers.

However at the end of last year I began to hear about a book reported to be remarkable in its writing and subject matter, a novel written over a period of two or three decades by a former Marine and Rhodes Scholar, Karl Marlantes, titled Matterhorn: A Novel of the Vietnam War.

The hype was strong. The New York Times listed it in its list of 100 notable books for 2010. Mark Bowden, the author of Black Hawk Down in a special Amazon review says:

Here is story-telling so authentic, so moving and so intense, so relentlessly dramatic, that there were times I wasn’t sure I could stand to turn the page. As with the best fiction, I was sad to reach the end.

I was intrigued and so asked for and was given the book for Christmas last year. I finished reading it just about a month ago. There are books you read, which are quickly forgotten, and there are books you experience, which become a part of you and are hard to shake. This one belongs in the latter category. The experience of reading it is still with me.

Is it a great and notable book? I’ll let others assess its literary merit. But taken as a whole this is a book to be read and savored and pondered. Normally something hyped disappoints. Not this. Bowden is right. I was sad to reach the end.

This is my first introduction to a view of that war from the jungle level. I leave this book almost able to smell and to taste and to feel the awful conditions under which Marine grunts and others had to fight in that jungle environment. I have often heard that veterans of that war cannot really talk about that experiences with any but those who were really there. This book gives a feel for why that is so.

On the one hand, the story revolves around the possession, abandonment, and bloody retaking of an ultimately meaningless piece of Vietnam geography. On the other hand, it is the story of the movement of a privileged lieutenant from one who is concerned for climbing the command structure to one who finds a deep and indescribable bond with the men with whom he fights. The book makes me want to be a part of those who fought there, and makes me glad I never had to. There is nobility here and there is idiocy. There is the full scope of human capacity and depravity and glory. And it is dramatic, gritty, real, captivating.

War is romanticized and criticized. War IS an awful thing, but sometimes war is sadly necessary. At some level war is always mad. The WWII movie The Bridge on the River Kwai may be remembered more for its clever whistled theme than for its content. But its power lay in the final two words of dialog forming a commentary on all warfare. “Madness! Madness!”

Yes, Matterhorn shows the madness and sadness of war. But it does so without trivializing it or preaching about it. There is a humanness in this novel that makes me want to avoid war at all costs, but causes me to wonder if I would have the courage to fight for those things worth fighting for.

158 and Counting

When I get an idea for a blog post, I scribble it down and eventually sketch out a few thoughts as a draft in MarsEdit, a wonderful piece of blogging software. The draft is written with the hope that I’ll eventually flesh it out and get it online. Sadly, though, that often does not happen. Since moving 1½ years ago, time to update the blog has been something rare leading to a substantial backlog.

As it now stands, there are 158 such drafts, dating back to June, 2009, most of which will never ever see the light of day. They address everything this blog was intended to cover – a pastor-eyed view of all of life. Buried there are some real duds which would be better off deleted (give thanks you never had to wade through them!). Some are time related comments whose time has passed. Some though are important thoughts (to me) which may or may not ever be resurrected. In addition to these 158 are several series of posts (on marriage, on knowing God, on the Christian sacraments, on adoption and parenting) which exist elsewhere, some only in my mind.

I may lose readers over the course of time, but this is for sure: I’ll never run out of things to write about.

Whether I have anything worth saying will be for others to judge.

P. D. James, Observer of Human Nature

I read little crime fiction, but during a recent few days away I had occasion to finish a P. D. James Adam Dalgliesh mystery A Mind to Murder. I was delighted to find in James occasional wry side comments regarding the human and social condition, a few of which seem sharable:

“His Marriage…had been doomed from the start, as any marriage must be when husband and wife have a basic ignorance of each other’s needs coupled with the illusion that they understand each other perfectly.”

“Her house was the centre for a collection of resting actors, one-volume poets, aesthetes posing on the fringe of the ballet world, and writers more anxious to talk about their craft in an atmosphere of sympathetic understanding than to practice it.”

“‘I was also with my brother-in-law who happens to be a bishop. A High Church bishop,’ she added complacently, as if incense and chasuble set a seal on episcopal virtue and veracity.”

“People did not automatically become kind because they had become religious.”

Finding such quips is one of the joys of reading. Unless, of course, the sting is aimed too much in my direction.

“‘I should be relieved if I could produce even an evangelical curate to vouch for me between six-fifteen and seven o’clock yesterday evening.'”

Yes. Even one of those, suspect as they may be, would do.

The Measure of Our Knowledge of God

We may be able for a time to persuade others that our spiritual life is full of depth and glitter. And though it may be less true than we might like, we may for a time begin to believe it of ourselves. As well, our theological erudition, our political savvy, our well portioned service, all may serve to give an outward impression of true spiritual maturity, which may or may not match the inward reality. We may believe ourselves what we work hard to make others believe.

Therefore, it is always good to take this wise caution to heart:

“We must learn to measure ourselves, not by our knowledge about God, not by our gifts and responsibilities in the church, but by how we pray and what goes on in our hearts. Many of us, I suspect, have no idea how impoverished we are at this level. Let us ask the Lord to show us.”

(J. I. Packer, Knowing God, page 27)

In the Way of Grace

Often I have reflected on the relationship between our Christian duty and our growth in Christ-likeness. We would like to better reflect the character of Christ, and certainly it would seem that is God’s desire. We understand that sanctification is a work of God’s Spirit, that the fruit we reflect in our Christian growth is the fruit of the Spirit. It is not the fruit of our own works. And yet our work is involved.

Earlier in these pages, I have sought to give some hopefully helpful reflections on these matters. (Note that the links on this page are to an earlier Blogger edition of this blog.) In doing so, I suggested that one way of thinking of our involvement in the process of growth is to think of our acts of devotion or obedience as acts by which we put ourselves in the ‘way of grace’. If it is so, as we believe, that the Holy Spirit ministers grace to us in the sacraments or in prayer or in the reading and hearing of the word of God, then it makes sense for us to put ourselves in those places where these things are taking place. In my participation in worship, I am not changed as a reward for or as an effect of my obedience, but I am changed as the Spirit of God chooses to use that circumstance to change me. The work is his. It is my joy to find those ‘thin places’ between earth and heaven (a concept I think I am stealing from N. T. Wright) and to place myself there. If I never go to where God’s Spirit is known to work, then it should be no surprise to me that I am rarely the recipient of grace.

All that said, I have rarely heard others speak in this way. However, recently I found in reading Samuel Bolton’s The True Bounds of Christian Freedom, an English Puritan work published in 1645, something very similar.

“How often does a believer go to prayer with a dead heart, and rise with a lively heart! He begins with a straitened heart and rises with an enlarged heart; he begins dejected and ends comforted! How often, when he could find no such motion of God leading him to duty, has he yet met with God in the midst of the duty, and enjoyed God, in a prayer, in a glorious sweet way! … God loves to meet those that are in His way. Though the miller is unable to command the wind, yet he will spread his sails, and thus be in the way to use it, if it come.”

I take this as some positive confirmation that perhaps I’m pointing our noses down a good path previously trod.

Bounded by Grace

[Note: this is a continuing part of a series reproducing a sermon. An explanation can be found here.]

I said at the outset that my heart’s desire is that we would learn to delight in our God, and that that delight would be reflected in the way we love to live our lives. I long for the internal music of our heart to be tuned to grace so that the dance of our lives reflects the composer of the tune.

But we fail, don’t we. We trip, we fall. And the Ronstadt Effect kicks in. But those voices are not from God. Instead of ‘you’re no good’ – there is another voice you need to hear, another tune to sing:

“You’re my child, you’re my child, you’re my child…”

Even if we are broken and desperately full of sin, He who paid for our lives on the cross is not going to let us go. He is not going to walk away. He will never disinherit us.

So our sin awakens our eyes again to how much we depend on God’s grace and favor. And when our eyes are so lifted up to him, there is release.

I fail often. I fail as a parent and as a pastor and as a husband. And I grieve over those I hurt when I fail in these ways. And I lament the negative reputation that I gain thereby. And I am disappointed that my ability is so weak, and that God finds so little to work with in me.

And the only way to remedy that is to return to the gospel, to the One whom I know loves me, who makes no requirements of me for his love. The gospel needs to be the music we hear in our heart.

I was captured recently by this quote, from a book I have not read, written by men I do not know. But these words, couched in the form of a word of Jesus to his disciples, rings true, and is something of the song that needs to fuel our hearts:

“What if I tell them there are no lists?  What if I tell them I don’t keep a log of past offenses, of how little they pray, how often they’ve let me down, or made promises that they don’t keep?

“What if I tell them they are righteous, with my righteousness, right now?  What if I tell them they can stop beating themselves up?  That they can stop being so formal, stiff, and jumpy around me?

“What if I tell them I’m crazy about them?  What if I tell them, even if they run to the ends of the earth and do the most horrible, unthinkable things, that when they come back, I’d receive them with tears and a party?

“What if I tell them that if I am their Savior, they’re going to heaven no matter what—it’s a done deal?  What if I tell them they have a new nature—saints, not saved sinners who should now ‘buck-up and be better if they were any kind of Christians, after all he’s done for you!’

“What if I tell them that I actually live in them now?  That I’ve put my love, power, and nature inside of them, at their disposal?

“What if I tell them that they don’t have to put on a mask? (or hide) That it is ok to be who they are at this moment, with all their junk.

“That they don’t need to pretend about how close we are, how much they pray or don’t, how much of the Bible they read or don’t?

“What if they knew they don’t have to look over their shoulder for fear if things get too good, the other shoe’s gonna drop?

“What if they knew I will never, ever use the word punish in relation to them?  What if they knew that when they mess up, I will never ‘get back at them?’ What if they were convinced that bad circumstances aren’t my way of evening the score for taking advantage of me?

“What if they knew the basis of our friendship isn’t how little they sin, but how much they let me love them?

“What if I tell them they can hurt my heart, but that I’ll never hurt theirs?

“What if I tell them they can open their eyes when they pray and still go to heaven?

“What if I tell them there is no secret agenda, no trapdoor?

“What if I tell them it isn’t about their self-effort, but about allowing me to live my life through them?”

What if? This is what He does tell us.

What if? There is rest, there is joy, and there is a longing to obey.

Page 42 of 142

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén