Thank you, Lord, for what has been given.
Thank you for what has wisely been withheld.
Thank you for what you've asked of me, and how you've equipped me to do it.
Thank you for my inadequacies and weaknesses.
Thank you for the times you've helped me see my sin.
Thank you for expanding my knowledge of your greatness and deepening my understanding of my need for you.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
A refrain for today
Give me Jesus
Give me Jesus
You can have all this world
But give me Jesus
- Fernando Ortega
But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith-- that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Philippians 3:7-11
Give me Jesus
You can have all this world
But give me Jesus
- Fernando Ortega
But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith-- that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Philippians 3:7-11
Monday, November 12, 2007
The blessing is in the doing
I believe that one of the ways God has demonstrated his love to us is by giving us his word. Not only has he given us a collection of his attributes, his expectations of us, evidence of his faithfulness, and a priceless description of the life of his most beloved Son - he has given us all of this in a document that is living and active. As a result, even the most familiar passages can speak to us in new and different ways as we look more closely and strive to walk more closely with Him. This happened for me a couple of weeks ago.
The New Testament reading in the Episcopal lectionary for Sunday, November 4 was the Beatitudes. This is a passage that was familiar from childhood, thus I thought my pastor might focus on one of the other Scriptures for his sermon that day. Instead, he pressed into Jesus's words, using them to admonish and encourage all of us. The message I walked away with that day was simple, but it has continued to resonate.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Matthew 5:3-12
Jesus promises that those who hurt, who suffer, who work to bring his kingdom here, who give all they have will be blessed and rewarded. These words have often brought comfort, hope, and a sense of purpose in difficult times, but they can also easily bring a sense of entitlement, or a skewed sense of what we should expect from God.
"Alright, God. I was kind to that guy who was a jerk to me. Where's my blessing?"
"My best friend died. I've mourned and kept on mourning. Aren't you going to bless me with a new friendship?"
"I've spent so much time serving the poor. Why aren't you taking away some of my financial burdens?"
But this type of blessing - that promised by the Prosperity Gospel and hoped for by our comfort-seeking instant gratification society - is not necessarily what Jesus was talking about. Jesus said, "Blessed are you when..."
The blessing doesn't come after the pain and sacrifice (though I do believe a greater reward will come in Heaven) - the blessing is in the pain and sacrifice. As my pastor said, "Doing good is the blessing."
When we do good, or when we are poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungry for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, making peace, or when we are persecuted, we are blessed.
Blessed because we are becoming more like Jesus.
Blessed because we are helping someone else to catch a glimpse of him.
Blessed because we are able to taste the Lord's goodness, and increase our reliance on him.
Blessed because we have an opportunity to trust and stand on his word, believing that because he said it, it is true, whether we feel it or not: blessed are you.
The New Testament reading in the Episcopal lectionary for Sunday, November 4 was the Beatitudes. This is a passage that was familiar from childhood, thus I thought my pastor might focus on one of the other Scriptures for his sermon that day. Instead, he pressed into Jesus's words, using them to admonish and encourage all of us. The message I walked away with that day was simple, but it has continued to resonate.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Matthew 5:3-12
Jesus promises that those who hurt, who suffer, who work to bring his kingdom here, who give all they have will be blessed and rewarded. These words have often brought comfort, hope, and a sense of purpose in difficult times, but they can also easily bring a sense of entitlement, or a skewed sense of what we should expect from God.
"Alright, God. I was kind to that guy who was a jerk to me. Where's my blessing?"
"My best friend died. I've mourned and kept on mourning. Aren't you going to bless me with a new friendship?"
"I've spent so much time serving the poor. Why aren't you taking away some of my financial burdens?"
But this type of blessing - that promised by the Prosperity Gospel and hoped for by our comfort-seeking instant gratification society - is not necessarily what Jesus was talking about. Jesus said, "Blessed are you when..."
The blessing doesn't come after the pain and sacrifice (though I do believe a greater reward will come in Heaven) - the blessing is in the pain and sacrifice. As my pastor said, "Doing good is the blessing."
When we do good, or when we are poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungry for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, making peace, or when we are persecuted, we are blessed.
Blessed because we are becoming more like Jesus.
Blessed because we are helping someone else to catch a glimpse of him.
Blessed because we are able to taste the Lord's goodness, and increase our reliance on him.
Blessed because we have an opportunity to trust and stand on his word, believing that because he said it, it is true, whether we feel it or not: blessed are you.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
A lesson on wheels
Confession: I can't skate.
This will not come as a surprise to many of you, as you are already aware of my complete and utter lack of any sort of athletic ability.
This did, however, come as something of a surprise - and a great source of amusement - when a few of us took the girls from the youth group at church (better known as "The Monday Girls" since we meet on Monday evenings) rollerskating at the rink near church. I hadn't been on skates in years, so I knew we were in for an interesting time.
We had the rink mostly to ourselves since we were there early, so Marquis, Ellen, Lisa, and the seven girls who were with us grabbed skates and were quickly flying around the rink, the girls showing off their abilities in spinning and backwards skating. I put my skates on and ever-so-gingerly made my way on to the rink, clinging to the wall for dear life. Lisa and Ellen grabbed my hands, pulling me around the rink a few times as I hesitantly shuffled my feet. Doesn't anyone else think that if God had meant for us to have wheels attached to our bodies, he would have made that happen naturally?
Around and around we went, me at about one quarter of the speed of everyone else, which didn't matter too much to me. Since there weren't many folks on the floor, we could all see each other and laugh and talk across the rink. Gradually, I started to get a bit more comfortable and my legs started to loosen up a little. I laughed (apparently a little too hard) when one of the girls hit the floor while trying to do a fancy stunt.
I shouldn't have laughed at her.
Before she could even start to get up, I went down, HARD. I was shocked. I was in pain. I was thankful that God, in his wisdom, had given us padding on our backsides. Almost immediately, I was surrounded. The girls were worried for a moment, but as soon as they realized that nothing was broken they went back to tooling around the circle. Ellen and Lisa hovered over me as I got my bearings and fought off the tears that threatened to come (it hurt!). Marquis and the rink guard helped pull me up off the floor and get me back to the carpet.
The rink guard, a good friend of Marquis's, had been combining good-natured teasing with genuinely kind offers of instruction all evening. Now he saw his chance. After the initial pain wore off, I let him take me out onto the rink to try to help me skate. Rather than skating alongside me, he pushed from behind, ready to catch me the next time I fell (which I did promptly), but making me feel completely unsteady and out of control. After a couple trips around the circle, I convinced him I could handle this on my own - though handling it on my own, at that point, meant cozying up to the wall and moving as little as possible.
Fortunately, the girls wouldn't let me off the hook so easily. Mikaya sailed by, grabbed my hand, and pulled me on to the rink. "Come on, you can do it. Loosen up! Bend your knees! Come on! Bend 'em! Now you've gotta pick up your feet... ok... ok... a little more... PICK UP YOUR FEET!... there.... ok... push... push... bend your knees, it's ok!... pick up your feet... pick up your other foot... you're gettin' it..." And I was getting it, but what was happening at that moment was much more significant than me getting comfortable on skates.
I've spent the last three years getting to know Mikaya and her family. Her mom is raising five kids on her own while the father of her three sons, Mikaya's baby brothers, is in prison. Most of the time, I am the one with something to give to this family: a ride for Mikaya and her sister Tiara, some time spent cuddling with little Levi or holding baby Trey, encouragement and prayers for their mom, and most of all lessons on God and life for the girls. But now, rolling around this smooth oval, Mikaya had an ability that I lacked; she had something I needed, and I would not succeed without her patient teaching and willingness to skate along beside me.
Going to my church and spending time with these kids, it is easy to forget that I don't have it all figured out, that I am not without my own areas of weakness and need for other people. But here, in my time of need and weakness, Mikaya had the opportunity to grab my hand and know the joy of sharing what she has to help someone else who does not have.
The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "I have no need of you." On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable... God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. I Corinthians 13:21-25
My feet needed Mikaya's hand that day - the one whom I usually view as weaker was indispensable. Here, as the body of Christ glided around a skating rink, we were reminded that caring goes both ways.
Maybe God did intend for us to be on skates after all.
This will not come as a surprise to many of you, as you are already aware of my complete and utter lack of any sort of athletic ability.
This did, however, come as something of a surprise - and a great source of amusement - when a few of us took the girls from the youth group at church (better known as "The Monday Girls" since we meet on Monday evenings) rollerskating at the rink near church. I hadn't been on skates in years, so I knew we were in for an interesting time.
We had the rink mostly to ourselves since we were there early, so Marquis, Ellen, Lisa, and the seven girls who were with us grabbed skates and were quickly flying around the rink, the girls showing off their abilities in spinning and backwards skating. I put my skates on and ever-so-gingerly made my way on to the rink, clinging to the wall for dear life. Lisa and Ellen grabbed my hands, pulling me around the rink a few times as I hesitantly shuffled my feet. Doesn't anyone else think that if God had meant for us to have wheels attached to our bodies, he would have made that happen naturally?
Around and around we went, me at about one quarter of the speed of everyone else, which didn't matter too much to me. Since there weren't many folks on the floor, we could all see each other and laugh and talk across the rink. Gradually, I started to get a bit more comfortable and my legs started to loosen up a little. I laughed (apparently a little too hard) when one of the girls hit the floor while trying to do a fancy stunt.
I shouldn't have laughed at her.
Before she could even start to get up, I went down, HARD. I was shocked. I was in pain. I was thankful that God, in his wisdom, had given us padding on our backsides. Almost immediately, I was surrounded. The girls were worried for a moment, but as soon as they realized that nothing was broken they went back to tooling around the circle. Ellen and Lisa hovered over me as I got my bearings and fought off the tears that threatened to come (it hurt!). Marquis and the rink guard helped pull me up off the floor and get me back to the carpet.
The rink guard, a good friend of Marquis's, had been combining good-natured teasing with genuinely kind offers of instruction all evening. Now he saw his chance. After the initial pain wore off, I let him take me out onto the rink to try to help me skate. Rather than skating alongside me, he pushed from behind, ready to catch me the next time I fell (which I did promptly), but making me feel completely unsteady and out of control. After a couple trips around the circle, I convinced him I could handle this on my own - though handling it on my own, at that point, meant cozying up to the wall and moving as little as possible.
Fortunately, the girls wouldn't let me off the hook so easily. Mikaya sailed by, grabbed my hand, and pulled me on to the rink. "Come on, you can do it. Loosen up! Bend your knees! Come on! Bend 'em! Now you've gotta pick up your feet... ok... ok... a little more... PICK UP YOUR FEET!... there.... ok... push... push... bend your knees, it's ok!... pick up your feet... pick up your other foot... you're gettin' it..." And I was getting it, but what was happening at that moment was much more significant than me getting comfortable on skates.
I've spent the last three years getting to know Mikaya and her family. Her mom is raising five kids on her own while the father of her three sons, Mikaya's baby brothers, is in prison. Most of the time, I am the one with something to give to this family: a ride for Mikaya and her sister Tiara, some time spent cuddling with little Levi or holding baby Trey, encouragement and prayers for their mom, and most of all lessons on God and life for the girls. But now, rolling around this smooth oval, Mikaya had an ability that I lacked; she had something I needed, and I would not succeed without her patient teaching and willingness to skate along beside me.
Going to my church and spending time with these kids, it is easy to forget that I don't have it all figured out, that I am not without my own areas of weakness and need for other people. But here, in my time of need and weakness, Mikaya had the opportunity to grab my hand and know the joy of sharing what she has to help someone else who does not have.
The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "I have no need of you." On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable... God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. I Corinthians 13:21-25
My feet needed Mikaya's hand that day - the one whom I usually view as weaker was indispensable. Here, as the body of Christ glided around a skating rink, we were reminded that caring goes both ways.
Maybe God did intend for us to be on skates after all.
A little inspiration from Henri
Writing... is often the source of great pain and anxiety. It is remarkable how hard it is for students to sit down quietly and trust their own creativity. There seems to be a deep-seated resistance to writing. I have experienced this resistance myself over and over again. Even after many years of writing, I experience real fear when I face an empty page. Why am I so afraid? Sometimes I have an imaginary reader in mind who is looking over my shoulder and rejecting every word I write down. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the countless books and articles that already have been written and I cannot imagine that I have anything else to say that hasn't already been said better by someone else. Sometimes it seems that every sentence fails to express what I really want to say and that written words simply cannot hold what goes on in my mind and heart. So there are many fears and not seldom they paralyze me and make me delay or even abandon my writing plans.
And still, every time I overcome these fears and trust not only my own unique way of being in the world, but also my ability to give words to it, I experience a deep spiritual satisfaction. I have been trying to understand the nature of this satisfaction. What I am gradually discovering is that in writing I come in touch with the Spirit of God within me and experience how I am led to new places...
Writing is a process in which we discover what lives in us. The writing itself reveals to us what is alive in us. The deepest satisfaction of writing is precisely that it opens up new spaces within us of which we were not aware before we started to write. To write is to embark on a journey whose final destination we do not know. Thus, writing requires a real act of trust...
Henri Nouwen, "Reflections on Theological Education" (Quoted in Seeds of Hope: A Henri Nouwen Reader, edited by Robert Durback)
And still, every time I overcome these fears and trust not only my own unique way of being in the world, but also my ability to give words to it, I experience a deep spiritual satisfaction. I have been trying to understand the nature of this satisfaction. What I am gradually discovering is that in writing I come in touch with the Spirit of God within me and experience how I am led to new places...
Writing is a process in which we discover what lives in us. The writing itself reveals to us what is alive in us. The deepest satisfaction of writing is precisely that it opens up new spaces within us of which we were not aware before we started to write. To write is to embark on a journey whose final destination we do not know. Thus, writing requires a real act of trust...
Henri Nouwen, "Reflections on Theological Education" (Quoted in Seeds of Hope: A Henri Nouwen Reader, edited by Robert Durback)
Catching up
To the few, the proud, the faithful readers of this blog:
I knew the fall had gone by quickly, but I logged onto my blog thinking it had only been a month or so since I had posted. Much to my dismay, the last post was entered on September 9 (and truth be told, I actually just officially posted it today).
I apologize for letting you down - I suppose a couple of you have missed knowing what's going on in my life and my head; more of you have probably missed having one more Internet-based means of procrastination. The good news is, I'm back. Let the party begin.
There have been many factors contributing to my lack of writing - the usual laziness when it comes down to actually formulating my thoughts enough to type them out, time spent on other ventures like writing next summer's YouthWorks devotional book and helping a friend find (and refine) the words that might compel others to a more sacrificial life, and a head so full of thoughts that I barely know where to begin. I'll give you a glimpse of some of the words that are floating around in my head right now:
Traveling
Returning
Giving
Visiting
Jail
Justice
Rollerskating
Sharing
Cooking
Cleaning
Roofing
Rain
Community
Communion
Grieving
Celebrating
Thinking
Learning
Teaching
Vulnerability
Safety
Trust
Goals
Direction
Wondering
Cheering
Loving
And there you have it - a brief summary of the last two months of my life. Now that I've got you up to speed, let's move on to more important things.
I knew the fall had gone by quickly, but I logged onto my blog thinking it had only been a month or so since I had posted. Much to my dismay, the last post was entered on September 9 (and truth be told, I actually just officially posted it today).
I apologize for letting you down - I suppose a couple of you have missed knowing what's going on in my life and my head; more of you have probably missed having one more Internet-based means of procrastination. The good news is, I'm back. Let the party begin.
There have been many factors contributing to my lack of writing - the usual laziness when it comes down to actually formulating my thoughts enough to type them out, time spent on other ventures like writing next summer's YouthWorks devotional book and helping a friend find (and refine) the words that might compel others to a more sacrificial life, and a head so full of thoughts that I barely know where to begin. I'll give you a glimpse of some of the words that are floating around in my head right now:
Traveling
Returning
Giving
Visiting
Jail
Justice
Rollerskating
Sharing
Cooking
Cleaning
Roofing
Rain
Community
Communion
Grieving
Celebrating
Thinking
Learning
Teaching
Vulnerability
Safety
Trust
Goals
Direction
Wondering
Cheering
Loving
And there you have it - a brief summary of the last two months of my life. Now that I've got you up to speed, let's move on to more important things.
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