27Jesus resumed talking to the people, but now tenderly. The Father has given me all these things to do and say. This is a unique Father-Son operation, coming out of Father and Son intimacies and knowledge. No one knows the Son the way the Father does, nor the Father the way the Son does. But I'm not keeping it to myself; I'm ready to go over it line by line with anyone willing to listen. 28"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. 29Walk with me and work with me--watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. 30Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." (Matthew 11 from The Message Translation)
It doesn't take long for my schedule to fill up. Occasionally I'll actually say no to something or give up the responsibility for something else, but I usually fill it with something else, some task, some job, some class. My life is filled with a lot of doing but not that much growing. I've bought into the lie that doing a lot is progress. Jesus' way is different. All the things the Father gave His Son to do and say came out of Father and Son intimacies and knowledge. Real fruitfulness is birthed in the same place as real rest--intimacy. Living with the Father and the Son is living freely and lightly. If I'm tired and worn out and burned out (and I am), it's because I'm not living in intimacy. It's because I've believed the pride of progress--that the more I do, the more important I am. My religion has been making good grades in seminary classes, as if Greek tests are tests of knowing God. They're not. I can make 99's on my midterms and ignore the voice of God. I've somehow convinced myself that I can please God by my hard work. We live in a culture that prizes independence. We even have a document that declares it. But God is not pleased with my independence. He wants to hear my Declaration of Dependence. He wants to go over His way line by line. He wants me to walk with Him and work with Him.
In the kingdom slowing down is better than speeding up. Listening is more important than doing. Recess is better than progress. The way of Jesus is the way of a son.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Us and Them
This post is possibly going to be difficult for me to write because the ideas that I'm having haven't completely taken shape yet, but I think that I need to get them out, so maybe you can help me with them.
I was talking to a friend on the phone recently, and she asked me what I had eaten for dinner, and I told her "stir-fry" which is an Asian type of dish with meat and vegetables cooked in a frying pan and served with rice. She responded with a comment about it being an "ethnic" meal. Oddly enough, this comment took me a little off-guard because my family had eaten this meal dozens of times, and it ceased to be for us the food of a culture vastly different from our Southern U.S. culture and had become very much a part of our own menu. It is more common to eat stir fry in our house than it is to eat fried chicken.
I'm working at school on what is called an Intercultural Worship Task Force to try to represent the many cultures present in our community within our worship. While we have had some success in this feat, having incorporated music from India, Nigeria, and our Native American cultures, among others, I don't believe that we have yet adopted these different ways of worshipping Trinity as a community, though I do believe we have made strides in that direction. When groups from cultures not normally represented in chapel (anything non-white, non-North American) lead us, it still seems like "special music" or an event, rather than a normal part of our worship to God.
I think the problem is in the pronouns. We're still singing "their" songs when we need to be singing "our" songs. I hope to see the day when there is no "them", and there is only "us", not because the minority has accepted and conformed and been swallowed by the majority, but because I adopted my Indian friend Andrew's culture when I adopted him into my family, and he adopted my culture when he adopted me into his family. I hope that we will weaved together, not blended, as one, and their songs will become our songs as our songs have become their songs. The Gospel is this: we were Them's, and Christ became one of Them, so that we(They) could become one of Us.
As Christ and the Father were one, may we also be one.
I was talking to a friend on the phone recently, and she asked me what I had eaten for dinner, and I told her "stir-fry" which is an Asian type of dish with meat and vegetables cooked in a frying pan and served with rice. She responded with a comment about it being an "ethnic" meal. Oddly enough, this comment took me a little off-guard because my family had eaten this meal dozens of times, and it ceased to be for us the food of a culture vastly different from our Southern U.S. culture and had become very much a part of our own menu. It is more common to eat stir fry in our house than it is to eat fried chicken.
I'm working at school on what is called an Intercultural Worship Task Force to try to represent the many cultures present in our community within our worship. While we have had some success in this feat, having incorporated music from India, Nigeria, and our Native American cultures, among others, I don't believe that we have yet adopted these different ways of worshipping Trinity as a community, though I do believe we have made strides in that direction. When groups from cultures not normally represented in chapel (anything non-white, non-North American) lead us, it still seems like "special music" or an event, rather than a normal part of our worship to God.
I think the problem is in the pronouns. We're still singing "their" songs when we need to be singing "our" songs. I hope to see the day when there is no "them", and there is only "us", not because the minority has accepted and conformed and been swallowed by the majority, but because I adopted my Indian friend Andrew's culture when I adopted him into my family, and he adopted my culture when he adopted me into his family. I hope that we will weaved together, not blended, as one, and their songs will become our songs as our songs have become their songs. The Gospel is this: we were Them's, and Christ became one of Them, so that we(They) could become one of Us.
As Christ and the Father were one, may we also be one.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Supermodels
In his book Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller says that we sometimes have to see someone else love something before we ourselves are able to love that thing. Tonight I found myself among a group of teenagers in Florence, Alabama as we entered into the new year in worship. Had I not been overcome by a sense of wonder at the sight, I would have probably been a little embarrassed to be a worship intern at a seminary who was standing at the back of the building looking on as the teenagers danced and sang and bowed and raised hands. I watched as they taught me through their worship how to love Jesus. But for some reason, i wasn't embarrassed at all. Perhaps because when I am desperate to learn how to love, it doesn't really matter who teaches me or who leads me in worship.
After a few minutes of standing, I decided to sit, because a slow song came on and that's what you do during a slow song. That is unless, of course, you are at a high school dance (or any dance), and then, slow songs are the only times you (if you are me) actually walk to the dance floor and dance. As I sat on one of the many futons scattered across the room, I couldn't stop staring at the 10 ft. wooden cross that faced me. There was nothing particularly special about this cross, but it spoke of a mystery that I seemed to have forgotten. It probably should have been strange to watch followers of Jesus dance around the very symbol of his death, but it was in this symbol of death that those who danced around it (as well as those of us who just sat and stared) found life. In our Lord's greatest sorrow, we find our greatest joy. So I just stared and smiled, because it was in that cross that I was able to see Someone else love something in a way that inspired and empowered me to also love that thing.
After a few minutes of standing, I decided to sit, because a slow song came on and that's what you do during a slow song. That is unless, of course, you are at a high school dance (or any dance), and then, slow songs are the only times you (if you are me) actually walk to the dance floor and dance. As I sat on one of the many futons scattered across the room, I couldn't stop staring at the 10 ft. wooden cross that faced me. There was nothing particularly special about this cross, but it spoke of a mystery that I seemed to have forgotten. It probably should have been strange to watch followers of Jesus dance around the very symbol of his death, but it was in this symbol of death that those who danced around it (as well as those of us who just sat and stared) found life. In our Lord's greatest sorrow, we find our greatest joy. So I just stared and smiled, because it was in that cross that I was able to see Someone else love something in a way that inspired and empowered me to also love that thing.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Fundamentalist Scrabble
Sitting in my navy-blue plastic chair leaning forward with elbows propped upon my pressed-wooden desk, I listened eagerly to my fifth grade teacher and watched as she spelled S...A...N...T...A. on the white marker board. (We were high tech. No chalk here.) All eyes were on her as she proceeded to scramble the letters to spell another word directly beneath the first--S...A...T...A...N. Satan. I don't remember anything else said that day in class, or really the whole year for that matter, but that display stuck with me.
In recent months I have received a lot of flack because of a statement I made that I did not plan on ever teaching my future children about the existence of Santa Claus. Yes, I think that my education in fifth grade on the subject was ridiculous. No, I do not think that Santa is equivalent to Satan. My reasons are much different. The main argument made to me regarding the subject was that teaching about Santa Claus would give my children a since of imagination that would be lacking without it. This is my maini point of disagreement.
I believe Christmas is a time to celebrate the greatest show of imagination the world has ever seen--God becoming man, or even more--God becoming infant. Reindeer, elves, snowmen, and a jolly old man delivering presents every year make for a pretty good story, but compared to the story of Jesus, I think it is like comparing The Davinci Code to The Odyssey or to the other great epics. It's not that I am opposed to Santa Claus; it's just that his story is a distraction, a big distraction, from The Story. The problem is that the great story has become common, and the story that is somewhat common is now seen as imaginative. I hear as many songs about jingle bells and winter wonderlands as I do about the wonder of God incarnate. Where is our imagination?
Perhaps you're just hearing the rantings of a guy who never got a single present from Santa, but perhaps there is a greater story than that of Santa Claus that needs to be told, that needs to be heard.
In recent months I have received a lot of flack because of a statement I made that I did not plan on ever teaching my future children about the existence of Santa Claus. Yes, I think that my education in fifth grade on the subject was ridiculous. No, I do not think that Santa is equivalent to Satan. My reasons are much different. The main argument made to me regarding the subject was that teaching about Santa Claus would give my children a since of imagination that would be lacking without it. This is my maini point of disagreement.
I believe Christmas is a time to celebrate the greatest show of imagination the world has ever seen--God becoming man, or even more--God becoming infant. Reindeer, elves, snowmen, and a jolly old man delivering presents every year make for a pretty good story, but compared to the story of Jesus, I think it is like comparing The Davinci Code to The Odyssey or to the other great epics. It's not that I am opposed to Santa Claus; it's just that his story is a distraction, a big distraction, from The Story. The problem is that the great story has become common, and the story that is somewhat common is now seen as imaginative. I hear as many songs about jingle bells and winter wonderlands as I do about the wonder of God incarnate. Where is our imagination?
Perhaps you're just hearing the rantings of a guy who never got a single present from Santa, but perhaps there is a greater story than that of Santa Claus that needs to be told, that needs to be heard.
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