CTS Opens the Worldwide Classroom

I just received an email today from Covenant Theological Seminary--seems they're offering 20 free 'classes' (recorded lectures and notes) for personal education.

Check it out here!

I know not everybody's a nerd, much less a Jesus nerd, but I'm super stoked about it. I've heard about this stuff being available before, and I'm sure it is, but this is the first I've actually seen and heard it.

Most of it looks like pretty good stuff. Well, except for two classes dedicated to understanding the man, the myth, the legend, Francis A. Schaeffer. I'm not a big "Christian Right" guy, so me and him would probably have it out. But the rest of the stuff seems really neat! Anyway, check 'em out!

Postmortem: Living in Kansas

Now that I've been in Georgia about twelve days or so, I've been reflecting a bit on how I lived for the past three years in Kansas. It's pretty interesting, musing over the things that occurred, the people I met, and my responses to both.

If you get some time to read, consider reading this piece titled "U-Haul Theology," the cover story for the Fall 2008 ByFaith Magazine. In it, the author, Jim Hatch, talks about why moving is so painful and downright annoying. It's pretty good, and it's probably what preempted this post.

So... Kansas. I pause before I write here, because two things immediately come to mind: 1) Those three years marked some of the roughest times in my life, and 2) My responses and reactions to those times were not kind (to say the least), and I feel pretty disappointed in what my responses were. A lot of what went on there also had to do a lot with the Army, but for the sake of fairness, I think I'm going to split those into two different stories, and this one is for Kansas.

Okay... well, let me start by saying this: I've generally considered myself to be more prepared to move into different environments and cultures, as I've lived in about sixteen different places since I was born. I went to three different high schools, and the longest I've been anywhere in my life was at college (4 1/2 years), and that's where I generally consider to be my hometown. I could have never been more wrong in my assumption, actually. Moving to another location is always tough, and getting used to new cultures, with different societal beliefs, values, and norms, is pretty tricky. And looking back, I was certainly unprepared.

The majority of what I saw in Kansas relied on a few distinct changes from my comfort zone. The first which caught me was the geographical differences. Some spots of Kansas are absolutely beautiful, with gorgeous rolling hills and waving grass, and what my father-in-law calls the 'Missouri Breaks' (because of the movie with the same name). Trees, however, were few and far in between. It's also not recommended driving at sunrise and sundown, because of two big reasons: One, there's nothing to stop the sun from completely blinding you if you drive east or west, and two, half of the roads there run east-west.

And while I'm at it, people give directions completely different there! From what I've been accustomed to, directions are given by landmarks ("Do you know where the Quickie Mart is on that road? Well go two lights past it, take a right, and continue until the road forks, stay left, and you're looking for your third road on the left!"), and in Kansas, they're given as the crow flies ("So from here, head three blocks west, continue north until you get to the split, and from there head northeast for three block before turning north again!"). Make sure you bring a compass!

The second big thing was living in a college town. I've been to Athens (home of the UGA Bulldogs) on occasion, and I've seen some wild things done with red and black, but it doesn't come close to the amount of purple splayed on everything! Purple mailboxes, massive house murals, curb signs, dump trucks, polos... if you're not secure with purple, it can certainly be an adjustment! A lot of what happened in that town seemed to circle around college football and Army, neither of which I was really into at the time.

Thirdly, which I hesitate to talk about, was the difference in the church culture I was used to. I still can't really put my finger on what the exact difference was, but it was just slightly so that I felt uncomfortable most of the time in most of the churches I went to (I think six in all).

I think bouncing from church to church was one of the hardest things for me, as I was really needing to find a place to 'fit,' after not finding it in the Army nor in the college town, and it really drained a lot out of me to invest a bit, and then decide it was best to move on. And I think the more churches I went to, the more bitter and cynical I became in expecting to find what I was looking for.

What was I looking for? At the time, I probably would have said grace, or correct theology, or something sounding holy and just, but on recollection, I think I was really looking for Georgia in Kansas, and that's probably why I had such a hard time. I was expecting others to fit my culture, instead of learning where I was at, and adapting to it.

The power of Christ's love present in His Church is certainly amazing. It has the power to take down our walls and prejudices, and form bonds that are so much more significant and powerful than anything the world can concoct. I know this because I met some godly people there who were able to break through to me in all of that mess that I put up. 

I would have so liked to say that my faith pulled me through those rough times, but it wasn't so. Like mentioned earlier, it's the object of our faith that saves us, not the quality or quantity of our faith. It's amazing how God gets to us, even after that first moment we realize that we've been reconciled to Him. He certainly is faithful, and I think without meeting the saints of Kansas in the predicament I was in, I would've missed out on one of the more significant lessons I've learned yet, the one that taught me I'm still a sinner, still desperately in need of Christ after all these years. And that won't change. There won't be a day in my life that I'll be good enough to not have to rely on God for my inherent shortcomings, of which there are many. And that God relentlessly pursues us, and absolutely nothing will keep Him from whom He loves. Not even themselves.

Well, if you happen to be one of thems in Kansas... thanks. Thanks for everything. I don't think I would be here without you, and I mean it. I'm still surprised at how much of me you put up with, but you did! I'm not sure if my path will ever wind through Kansas again, or if you'll ever be down by my way, but if so, I look forward to that day. If it doesn't happen in this world, we'll certainly meet up in New Jerusalem! When you get there, just head three blocks west, continue north until you get to the split, and from there head northeast for three block before turning north again... ;)

Don't be strangers!  I love you guys, for real. Peace and grace to you all.

Brokenness Required

It's too easy to forget that our Christian faith requires us to be broken. Jesus spent his dinnertime with sinners, prostitutes, and tax collectors (Nicodemus the Pharisee came later in the evening, like at the post-dessert-coffee time, so that doesn't count). God consistently is seen as one who shames the proud, saves the weak, and makes the first last. Paul makes a point to talk about the metaphysical thorn in his side (I assume it's not literal, anyway... it could be!!) that perfects God's power in his thorn-induced weakness. 

And yet I still find myself trying to pull up on me-good-ole bootstraps (definitely metaphysical) to get me in line with the spiritual Joneses, too concerned with myself to do anyone else any good. Ugh. Try keep doing that for a while and you'll most certainly find brokenness, but the bad thing is that you'll be so spun up on trying to do right that despair will be a closer friend than joy.

The only hope we have in reconciliation to God is through Jesus. Not trying to be spiritual giants, not trying to outperform our neighbors in humility. It's the object of our faith (Jesus!) that saves us, not the quality or quantity of our faith. That won't get you squat. It's just another form of legalism, really, because it's all about us, and not really about Him.

Luke 18.9-14. Read it!

"We Have Met the Enemy..."

This comic was printed for Earth Day in 1971. It's part of a strip called "Pogo," and the line at the bottom is one of the more memorable quotes that I've come across.

We have met the enemy, and he is us.

The quote, specifically geared toward our destruction of the environment in the comic, speaks much deeper and broader than what's just pictured. It's something that skims across my mind, now and then, and unfortunately it's one of those times.

As you may have inferred, politics has claimed a good portion of my thought process as of late. Now with less than a month to go, the campaigns are getting nasty.

Recently, the McCain campaign has been touting that Obama's one time brief acquaintance with Mr. William Ayers (considered a terrorist in the 1960's and associated with several bombings, later considered Chicago's "Citizen of the Year" of 1997 for his philanthropy work) is more subversive and sinister than what it appears to be.

Tensions have been running high on both sides, needless to say.

I saw something today, however, that made me cringe. And it will surprise you. I saw footage of McCain having to tell some of his supporters that Obama "was a decent man," that they had "nothing to fear" of him becoming president, and that he's not an Arab. It looked horribly painful for McCain to say. I didn't expect it. And do you know what happened after saying that? He was booed by his own supporters. Even though I'm for the other team, that made me cringe, and I feel terrible for the guy. I don't think I can watch that video through for a while.

Not that I can say that I'd be any better than his supporters. In this war of hyper-partisanship, I've been pretty quick to take up arms (on occasion), and I frequent news sites to eagerly search for any news that my side is winning, and the other side is losing. I especially like it when I get news that validates my claim that I am "more correct" than others who won't vote like me.

It's so easy to demonize people--it's a way of us trying to validate our sin, to make it okay to dislike, slander, and harm those we don't want to love. And it's wrong.

For those of you that are like me, here's some friendly verses to cut you to the core:
Matthew 5.43-48
1 Peter 1.13-21
Colossians 3.1-8
Luke 18.9-14

I've been speaking about how dangerous that is for a while now, but I haven't exactly put planks before specks on that one. And I've done that several times now.

I'm sorry, guys, for all those times my political fervor got out of line, and thinking I was walking around with a pure heart and superior intellect with my views. I was way off.

Long Night at the Battalion (or Thinking About Planetariums)

Why, hello everyone. It's almost 2 a.m. here, which means I've got about...another 20 hours (it would be 17 if I wasn't watching the Palin/Biden comedy hour tomorrow) before I get some real sleep. Why Army decides to do it this way, I'm not quite certain. Regardless, here am I.

It's not that bad, I suppose. I get to catch up on work (which I have little of these days, comparatively). I get to catch up with my man Olbermann on the web (same funny stuff, as long as you're of a certain political persuasion). I get to bring all my cool Christian books to work that I've been meaning to catch up on and leave them on my desk because I got so bored I'm not in the mood to read them.

One of these nights, spend a couple minutes looking at those stars. I don't know about you, but if I stare at them long enough, I start remembering those days of being in grade school and going to the local planetarium. That was pretty weird, but neat in a way. It's this big dome with circular seating (so you could flick pennies across the room when it got dark), a huge Star-Wars-looking contraption in the middle, and some strange dude who would get fussy if you tried to touch any equipment. After settling down the class (fat chance), the guy would dim the lights, put the 'droid' in motion, and put on some hypnotic transcendental music and talk about constellations, using a sweet laser pointer (because those were cool back then) to point out groups of stars that seemed to have no significance.

So that's what I think about when I stare at stars for a moderately long time.

If I stare at them even longer, I start thinking about how old and far those stars are, and about how they got there, and why God put Orion's Belt and the Ursula Minor and the Little Spoon just so. I think about what people of long ago thought when they looked at the stars. When Paul or Isaiah or Jacob looked at those stars, what did they think? What did they dwell on? Certainly not about planetariums.

I'm sure sometimes they looked at the stars because they were bored. But sometimes, I think they needed some perspective. It's a very vulnerable place to be, out there among those stars. You start to feel very small. For me, that's a good thing. My mind starts to get quiet, and sometimes it even listens. There's a real sense of eternity that seems to fall from those little twinkly things. Makes it seem like the tiny space we occupy, and the little time we have are insignificant, yet important all at the same time.

You should try it some time. Without the goofy music and laser pointer, of course.

Many Rooms

So I think I'm better now. Still have some problems concentrating, but I don't think that's the virus's fault--no joke, ten workdays before I begin to out process. Huzzah!

"Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going." -John 14.1-4

This passage follows right after Jesus washes the disciples' feet, has the Last Supper, reveals he is going to be betrayed, gives his new commandment of loving one another, and tells Peter that he's going to disown him three times before the rooster crows. His teachings here and throughout the next couple of chapters has the disciples absolutely baffled. I'm pretty sure I'd be no different, not knowing what would happen next in the story.

I really want to touch on the "many rooms" part of this passage. It's extremely fitting (especially after revealing to Peter his future sin), but it's also pretty neat to consider against other passages of scripture, namely talking about a wide path of destruction and a narrow path of life, and not everyone saying "Lord, lord" is going to hang out with God when it's all over.

So what's this about? Certainly the disciples are in for the heartbreak of their life in the next few hours when everything turns upside down, especially Peter when he sees his sin unfolded just as Jesus said. If there will be any time for these guys to doubt, it's going to be very soon. Jesus is making it as clear as it can be in the time being that he's got a plan, and they are very much included.

I don't know how some people are, but I have this nagging tendency to believe Eliphaz, Biliad, and Zophar over Jesus when things go sour (those three awkward names belong to three of Job's 'dearest' friends--I look forward to posting about those superstars some other day, but not today). For some reason, it's way easier for me to cut myself up in worrying about my failures than understanding that God has a room prepared for me in Heaven.

Now, I'm from the "once saved, always" tradition. I sometimes hear that there's good reason to believe salvation comes and goes with our obedience, but I've not ever been able to wrap my mind around that one. So if you're from that persuasion...well, may God bless you and keep you, but bear with me through this one.

It's strange how motivation for Christ works sometimes. I can will myself over and over to do something, but if love for God isn't in it, then the only thing I succeed is making myself (and quite possibly others) more miserable (Think WSC #1 on this one). The way through the muck of this life sometimes gets pretty depressing, and it gets really easy to stare down into the rut we're in. Having Christ explain that a place was prepared for his disciples, even before some of their more grievous sins, and greatest depths of despair, it absolutely blows me away!

I don't think he was just talking to just those eleven dudes on that one, hence the "many rooms." If he prepared a place for them in light of that, does that carry over to us? I think it does!

If you have love for God in your heart, and you believe that Jesus really was a guy that happened to be God, and he died to pay the cost of your sin--past, present, and future--in order to reconcile you to God, believe in this passage also. There's a room prepared for you! For real, regardless of where you're at, rejoice! Dance, sing, high-five, chuckle, smile! He is our hope and our salvation! What better time to be happy than now? Praise be to God!

Jesus Wept

I read the story of Lazarus today, and I was most definitely intrigued.

The brevity of John 11:35 caught me by surprise: "Jesus wept." (That's a pretty easy memory verse, by the way...)

Why did he weep? Because he loved Lazarus? Sure, I guess. But there seems to be more going on than that. Jesus knew he was sick, and also declared that the type of sickness didn't lead to death. And he also said that he was going to wake Lazarus up on his way to Bethany, where Lazarus lived and more recently, was laid to rest.

Jesus also loved Lazarus' sisters, Martha and Mary. He met both and openly received their anguish in so many words: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." Which was true. He also saw the people who were gathered to comfort and offer condolences to the sisters. They were also quite grieved by the sound of it.

He knew Lazarus was to die, and he knew that he was to raise Lazarus from the dead. With that knowledge, why did he weep? Why not just say, "Cheer up, watch this!" and poof Lazarus alive, no tears needed?

Maybe it was a production, or maybe because it wasn't fun where Lazarus was, but neither of those assumptions seem to jive with the rest of what I know of Jesus. Throughout the gospels, Jesus shows incredible compassion to many, including those who betrayed him and wanted to kill him.

I'm beginning to think he wept because of the anguish and grief that had to occur for God's glory to be revealed. He was obviously emotionally attached to the Lazarus clan. But if he came zooming in and poofed Lazarus well before he died, those present wouldn't have seen what God could really do. They'd miss the point. So would we.

Remember, that was the plan all along--Lazarus had to die. And in the interim, where the grief was, he identified with those who felt the pain. Not for show, but for real. Sickness is rough, especially the terminal kind. And it happened to a good man, with a family that believed in the deity of Jesus and the promise of God. They still trusted Jesus even though they knew he had the power to heal, and deliberately chose not to. And he understood their pain. Jesus wept.

This changes what I normally think about God when I'm in times of strife. A lot of times, I think He says back to me, "Hey, cheer up, I have a plan!" And I have to deal with it. But understanding that God in human form grieved with those experiencing the pain says something different. That He understands living in this world hurts. That it grieves Him when we cry out in anguish and desperation. And understanding that sometimes, it has to be that way, and it pains Him deeply. Yet, unless that occurs, we would never begin to understand His glory. We would not know the extent of His love and desire for us. We would zoom through this life missing the whole point.

Finding "The Spot"

Back in the days of college and new found life in Jesus, it seemed fairly easy to see the majesty of God painted through the North Georgia hills. If you've never been in the upper-left hand corner of Georgia, I'd say you're missing out on some mighty fine landscapes. Quite a few of them come to mind--a cliff along a lonesome highway as the leaves begin to change into vibrant reds and yellows, or a waterfall hiding at the back of a dirt path and three miles of hike and climb, or a quiet mountain lake turned into a campground that nobody seemed to know was there. Some of my more impressionable memories of the time occurred at these places. The area was chock full of 'em to go to get un-busy and talk with God.

Since then, it's been a lot harder to find those places. I don't live in North Georgia anymore, and it's way too far for a weekend getaway. Every now and then I've caught myself just driving around, trying to find "The Spot" in Kansas, but I haven't been that successful. And as time passed by, I've looked less and less for those places.

For some reason, today was a different day. It was time for a little exploring.

There's different reasons I go in search of "The Spot." I've gone out of boredom, and I've gone to sort out my thoughts. It made a good time for a date once, and it's been worth a couple of times to take some buddies along to discover what was hiding at the top of the next mountain. Since I'm running short on companions these days, it was just me and my trusty steed, an old four cylinder S-10 I've come to know and love in recent months. Perhaps it was loneliness today, or a need for a change in scenery, or the Spirit telling me it was far too long since God and I had a good chat, but off I went.

So where can it be found? It's usually in a place where I've not been before. And looking for scenic spots on a map or on the web isn't as fruitful as it sounds--because it wouldn't be "The Spot" if it was host to a bunch of other people not in the least bit interested in peace and quiet. All that can really help is a full tank of gas, some water, and a prayer.

So I drove a bit, and it wasn't looking good. I know all of these roads I'm going down; I've been down them all before.

And then I saw something that stirred hope in my veins: A shiny brown sign. You know the ones I'm talking about. They're usually rectangular, or perhaps a parallelogram, and they point to campgrounds and the like. Thank God that He inspired someone in the government to understand there'd be people like me looking for places that are hard to find. So, I hit the brakes, bit my lip, and turned down the road.

It was beautiful.

I hadn't seen anything like it the entire three years I've been here in Kansas. The parking wasn't much, just room enough for my tiny truck, but across the guard rail was a wonderful sight to behold. A short valley cut by water and age, and the tops of the hills sheared off at a height. Way down at the end of the small valley was a lake, and I could see the rippling blue. There were some birds of prey circling around the air, looking for food, looking graceful all the while. The low-hanging sun reflected off all of the field grass as it swayed in the cool September air. And there were trees! Not many of them (this was still Kansas), but they were there. I wanted to stay there forever.

But I didn't, because I was cold and had to pee.

I tell you that story in order to tell you this one. Sometimes we have problems seeing God where we are. Today was no exception for me. Well, it was until I got where I was going, but you've already heard that one. Prayer, for some, seems like breathing. I think that's the way it should ultimately be, but it seems more complicated for me. Perhaps I'm too afraid to ask for things because I don't want to be let down. The funny part is that we're only fooling ourselves to think God doesn't know what we want. What we really want. For me, it wasn't finding "The Spot," it was finding comfort and assurance. That I'm not alone. That I'm not crazy. That this life isn't all there is. That my struggles right here and right now matter to Him.

I'm so glad we can pray to God. That He wants us to pray to Him. It's utterly amazing to what end God has made Himself available.

Thanks, God. You rock, really. Amen.

From Protest to Praise

I knew the times would come, and now the times have landed
With stinging abrasion...As ready as I seem to be
It's never like I planned it

I'm wrestling my thoughts I'm overcome
Would you give me up? I'm asking Lord
There's no where I sense Your presence here
So I will cry out, until I go
From protest to praise
You're always amazing me
You're changing me slow, but surely
And You're gonna see me to the end

How long will I be forgotten by You, forever?
'Cause you're not making sense here
Seems like eternity has made a home between us

I'm wrestling my thoughts I'm overcome
Would you give me up? I'm asking Lord
There's no where I sense Your presence here
So I will cry out, until I go
From protest to praise
You're always amazing me
You're changing me slow, but surely
And You're gonna see me to the end

You're changing me slow
I just can't help but see it that way
'Cause You're gonna see me...
From protest to praise
You're always amazing me
You're changing me slow, but surely
And You're gonna see me to the end

--"Protest to Praise" by Downhere

This has to be one of the more meaningful songs that I've come to know in my life. I picked it up at one of my first ventures into a Christian bookstore, and by chance, picked up this CD. Although the band and song are somewhat obscure, it's been a staple in how I've come to view many of my struggles and has pulled my thoughts toward God in some of the tougher and darker moments of my life. I'd recommend you check it out on iTunes if you ever get the chance (and have $.99 to spend).

And this comes to mind as I've recently learned a good friend hit some very, very difficult spots in his life. I won't go into the who or what in the blog, but it brings to light something pretty important about the Christian faith that may not get the attention it always deserves. I of course talk about suffering.

In no way do I wish to downplay or trivialize some of the horrors that many of us have faced in this life, but I can't shake the feeling that there's something God wants us to understand in the fire and the thorns. Jesus promises us eternal life, but he also makes a point that suffering will not be a stranger to us if we follow Him, and many of the epistles remind us extensively of it. Do a word search on 'suffer' in the New Testament--I did, and I was surprised. 1 Peter is one of my favorite books, but I never realized how much the word pops up in those short five chapters.

As for my brother, pray that he is not only comforted but emboldened to rejoice in those sufferings, and that God's glory is indeed revealed through this time.

Everything Is Spiritual: Synopsis

The universe is so ghastly big, and doesn't behave like we think it should. Atoms and subatomic particles are so horribly small, and they do whatever the heck they want. And we're in the middle. We can explain much, because we establish rules of thought on how everything relates, but it isn't quite so. In 2D terms, a circle will never be a rectangle, but comprehend a 3D coin in 2D thoughts, and it could be perceived as both a circle, and a square, but not at the same time.

Also note that we as people weren't created in a whirlwind of good and evil, but out of the purpose of joy. As in, "Wow, this world is amazing! Look at all that God has done!" And that the Sabbath is central to our way of understanding God. We stop and see His goodness in all of this. And it's all about Him.

Enter Christ, stage left. Did astounding things, said somthing about new wine and old wineskins, called some God-people a brood of vipers, healed many and fed many. Was horribly tortured and killed. And then he wasn't dead anymore, and we think about a 3D coin in 2D terms (You can read more about Him elsewhere, but I'm going to cut the story short). Left us with the distinct impression that there is something more about life than what we thought. And we understand that God wants us to be reconciled to Him, because we were created for joy.

And some other parts I didn't quite follow.

Everything Is Spiritual: Prelude

I'm not a big fan of Rob Bell. Why? Well, I've grown up understanding that the faith we live by was passed on to us by those before us, and from those before them, and before them, all the way up to Jesus (well, it really started even before 0 A.D., and even before time itself, but Jesus is a good starting point for this post right now). And Christians that sat at his feet told their friends, family, and children, and they did the same, all the way up to me. Now, when we speak of things of God, we have no capacity whatsoever to understand him completely, and while we still walk and breathe in this time, we still have an uncanny ability to get the story a bit jumbled. And occasionally, we mix up parts of God's story with something else, something we put in there. And sometimes, these something-else pieces are treated as God's story. So, when something smells funny, we go back to the Bible, and we go to our brothers and sisters in the faith, and we go to the stories of those who lived before us, and we examine and critique what happened here and there and in the past, and we do our dangedest to brush out the something-else parts and try to learn from our mistakes, because again, we have no capacity whatsoever to understand Him completely. So, in a crude interpretation of what I understand of doctrine, there you have it.

Rob Bell isn't so much in that line of thought. I think he's kind of...well, jumbly. It's sometimes hard for me to understand God's story in his words. I read a quarter-way through one of his popular books, and never finished, because I couldn't comprehend it, and it bothered me. Maybe scared me a bit.

But, in a moment of possible clarity, let me attempt to be clear. Rob, as much as I and others really have problems with his teachings, he's still very much in the family. I'd never explain things like he does, but he's one of us, part of the body, and he plays a very important role that God specifically defined just for him. And I gather that I'm pretty jumbly, just in a different way, because I too have this problem of understanding the fullness of God. I could never fufill Rob's role in God's story, and I doubt he'd do a good job of doing mine, because fingers don't make good elbows.

So Rob, no stones for you today, brother. May God bless you in what you do, and keep doing your elbow thing like no tomorrow. Praise God that He is who He is, for there is none like Him.