When I'm not riding in the backseat of my Grandpa's restored vintage car "Mable," I'm doing other things like...
rising to most adventure occasions my husband proposes /
chasing our toddler around Brooklyn /
enjoying neighbors, strangers, and friends /
making countless trips to the laundromat /
writing for various publications and for personal reflection /
loving and serving our local church /
cleaning the bathroom /
hosting small and big crowds in our home /
meeting up with a friend for coffee /
thinking
Vocation is my strange frenemy. Though I have worked and existed in many stations/places, I am convinced that each day has good work to be done and that I am equipped and prepared to do that good work.
This blog explores the tension and the intersection of a constant vocational call - to good work, neighbor love, and living in the kingdom come.
My favorite things are coffee and creating and laughing (preferably with company). I love to listen to sermons and read biographies and make tea before going to bed.
The wind whipped my face and wetness brushed my cheeks. I breathed hard, pushing through the generous bowl of soup I had for lunch. I could feel my braid stick to my neck under my stocking hat. My feet pounded the pavement, but my eyes drifted toward the sky.
Have you ever seen Dead Poets Society? It’s brilliant. It’s where I learned about the barbaric yawp.
And I suppose that is what started the guttural sound in mid-run today. It might have been what led me, with the train on my left and the university campus on my right, to then let out a “Yawp!”
I ran a few more steps and then tried it out again, but this time louder, “Yawwwwwp!”
I giggled and ran and then tried to eat the rain.
I don’t know if I’ll ever make sophisticated sense with my clothing style or my office banter, but I do know this: I don’t mind looking at the world like a child. I want to see wonder at the wind and delight in drops of rain. I want to stretch out my arms and “yawp!” because I am alive.
I haven’t posted anything for the past few days because I haven’t been using my computer… because I misplaced my cord. After the battery died a few nights ago, I shrugged, moved on, and thought, “Well, there’s that.” I knew it would turn up eventually. This is one of those times when I’m reminded I don’t fit in US culture anymore.
I know, I know. I’ve already hashed it out – knowledge is useless unless it results in obedient acts full of love. But, I literally have to remind myself of this every day, multiple times a day. It’s a discipline to recall those things I’m learning and then, instead of simply sharing my realizations,put them into practice. If I am learning to serve, then I must ask, “What can I do to serve right now?” instead of, “How can I explain what I’m learning about service right now?”
So, I’m learning what it means to see knowledge as responsibility – personal responsibility.
I’m also learning that catchy phrase from School House Rock, “knowledge is power,” holds true for our culture in a way that we often ignore.
Mary Poplin spent most of her life running after isms and throwing rocks at religion. After becoming a believer while a professor at Claremont in California, she decided to spend two months volunteering with Mother Theresa and the Missionaries of Charity in Calcutta. Her book, Finding Calcutta, explores how her journey shaped her young faith and impacted what she would understand a “Christian life” to look like. Let’s just say it looked a lot different than the Christianity she ran from for so long… and it had a lot to do with how our knowledge of God plays out in the everyday-ness of our lives. In grappling with her role as an educator, she writes about a realization she had on a plane ride one day,
“…Genesis 1:1-3 informs us that ‘in the beginning… the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light’ and there was light.’ I saw distinctly the three moving as one – God, His Spirit and His Word. What a miracle that these three always agree! The Gospel of John reveals more about the Word that God spoke, ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without Him was not anything made that was made… and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.’ Paul tells us in Hebrews that Jesus ‘is the exact imprint of God’s very being,‘ and in Colossians that ‘by him all things were created… and in him all things hold together.’ I asked myself, If these are true, then how could anything I taught not relate to God, the Holy Spirit and Jesus?”
Christianity is not knowledge on Sundays to make our Monday through Friday knowledge a little less painful. Following Christ is not about believing a nursery rhyme because believing real truth isjust too depressing.
Some of our generation’s atheist thinkers (who would philosophically trace back to David Hume), explain our fascination with religion in this dualistic way. Because we can’t deal with the reality that life has no meaning, we create meaning so we can sleep at night. We have what Francis Schaeffer called a two-story concept of truth.
VALUES
FACTS
We conveniently hold two competing worldviews in a dichotomy so that we can appease both the ‘scientific facts’ and the ‘subjective feelings’ warring within us. We can say, “The sun will come up” with sure, scientific conviction as much as we can be convinced that “no one really knows the meaning of life or if there is one.”
Pearcey takes Schaeffer’s two-story idea in her book Saving Leonardo and explores its implications throughout history – bringing us up to our jumbled, dichotomous understanding of truth today. She writes of one Cambridge philosopher, Peter Lipton, who has a Jewish background. In an interview, he once said, “I stand in my synagogue and pray to God and have an intense relationship with God, and yet I don’t believe in God.”
Stranger than his statement is that to question him is ‘intolerant’ and anti-intellectual. When did “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” start to say, “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of Biblical wisdom” in Psalm 9:10? We are not so developed, my friends – not so progressive as we like to think. It used to be that the great theologians were naturally the great philosophers; that great pastors were naturally the great scholars; that great evangelists were naturally great orators. Why? Because the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge (Proverbs 1:7)… and not just cute, Sunday school knowledge. All knowledge.
What Mary Poplin realized on that plane ride was that there is only one Truth. Sure, people believe different things – about science and philosophy and art and what happens to the worms who will one day eat our flesh. But, believing in something doesn’t make it true. There is only one Truth that makes sense of things on this earth and it starts with a holy fear of the Lord.
Our culture is parched. The people are desperate for this no-holds-barred message. Forget sugar-coated. Forget patty cake and beating around the bush. They want answers. The hard stuff. The rated R conversations with God.
Two Cathedrals clip from The West Wing (warning for language)
The world will not make sense until we understand that all knowledge must begin with a fear of the Lord. Until then, our generation is simply caught in the crossfire of heaven and hell with no defense, just like Brandon Flowers croons.
Our culture is CRYING OUT and hoping that something calls back. I think they’re even willing to wrestle it out, ready to tear down the stories of skyscrapers built to stand against religion, if it means there is something solid to stand on underneath.
We Don’t Eat by James Vincent McMorrow (lyrics here)
It’s raining/snowing and the murky sky suits this Thursday.
I don’t mean that today is despairing, but I do mean that today seems like one of those days where weighty thoughts find a rightful place in the front of my brain. Maybe it’s the ushering in of the Lenten season or perhaps the strange, brown winter we’ve been ambling through… but today is full of weight and maybe you’d like to carry it with me.
Honduras never left my heart, but these past few weeks it’s been intense with two huge fires. You might have heard the news stories about the prison fire and the central market fire. The fire in the market was 5 minutes from where I lived a few short months ago. My sister in Christ tells me to pray for open doors so ministries can reach out during this time. My heart is heavy.
As I try to reflect in prayer during Lent, this blog post by Brett McCracken with Lenten Prayer requests is especially helpful. Oh, that my heart would be situated in a place where I can hear from the Lord.
Now that I’m living in the States again, this whole season feels different. There is something about a Catholic/Latin culture that surprised my spirit around this time. Apart from soccer, the religious traditions surrounding Easter always caused my heart to slow and consider the cost. This blog post by Russell Moore, “Always Mardi Gras, Never Easter” reminds me I must readjust my cultural lens to understand how to engage in conversations with Catholics/Protestants here.
I thought this article “Give up the Gimmicks, Youth Pastors” was an excellent read. I struggle seriously with all the games/programs/bells/whistles that make up our youth outreach programs in the US (and to Christian youth in general). I just don’t know what the best method is to effectively “speak their language” without sacrificing the content they are more than ready to receive.
I know I’ve certainly wrestled with “Why?” questions when it comes to God’s sovereignty. Just last night, I met up with some friends and before I could sit down they told me they were arguing about reincarnation. Before the conversation got too far, I found out the one guy’s mom was a Jehovah’s Witness and he knew his theology. At one point, he looked at me cynically and said, “Oh, sure. It’s about “sovereignty” isn’t it? Right. God is “sovereign” and that’s why it’s okay to say He created everything only to let it go to crap so that He could save it?” Whew! I tried to meet him where he was at and encourage his questions, but when I read this article from DesiringGod.org, “Why Did God Let Paul Become a Murderer?”I thought about all the answers that are foolish to those who don’t believe in the cross. I need serious grace and faith to believe God will give the words that make sense in the right time to the right people.
Well, folks, that’s a lot of reading. I’ll repeat the challenge from my last “this & that” post: How can my knowledge of God inform my obedience in a way that leads to actions full of love in reponse to these things?
Last night, I spoke with one of my dear friends who is still living and working in Honduras. She shared about a time recently when she was so full of sadness – days of heavy, unrelenting sadness because of the brokenness she sees. We agreed that sometimes – precious, painful sometimes – God responds to our prayers to, “break our hearts for what breaks Yours,” by allowing us a sliver of His pain. We couldn’t handle any more than that, but if we are fervently praying, we shouldn’t be surprised when our hearts start to swell inside our chests. We shouldn’t wish it away either. Those moments are precious – gifts to draw near to Him and grieve all the ways we’ve mangled his magnificent design. And then, to pray for His purpose to be realized through us – that every nation, tribe, tongue will hear the glorious news of the Gospel. The news that sets the crooked straight and the broken mended.
even with heavy hearts, in the power of the resurrected Savior, we can
Today marks the start of Lent and my soul is stirring with discontent. Living in this flesh is uncomfortable. I’m aware of my awkwardness inside this dusty skin; distressed at my nakedness.
I’m in need of a covering – something imperishable and outside myself that I put on as garment to guard against the world’s weather. A covering that allows me audience with the Almighty and release for my shame.
In 1 Corinthians 15:42-49 Paul writes,
So is it with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable; what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in dishonor;it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power.It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.
Thus it is written, “The first man Adam became a living being”; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit. But it is not the spiritual that is first but the natural, and then the spiritual. The first man was from the earth, a man of dust;the second man is from heaven. As was the man of dust, so also are those who are of the dust, and as is the man of heaven, so also are those who are of heaven.Justas we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.
“Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.”
I think back to Genesis – to the first Adam – when he became dishonorable and weak by his act of disobedience. I remember the way shame clothed them in their nakedness and sent them cowering behind leaves. I remember how uncomfortable man was inside his own skin.
God, in his grace, provided covering. He shed the blood of an animal to provide a way for man to keep company with God once again. He provided covering and man saw that nothing could happen outside God’s power and providence. The story could have ended there.
God could have started over with a new plan.
But God provided a covering.
Today, that covering is the second Adam, Jesus. Jesus shed his own blood so that no other sacrifice is necessary. No sacrifice is capable of the eternal coveringthat lifts us from perishable to imperishable, from dishonor to glory, from weakness to power.
This covering is Christ and I’m longing today to shed my skin and get wrapped up in Him. I know Christ’s covering is sufficient and forever, only that my faith daily wavers.
As we prepare for Easter, let us reflect on the already, not yet nature of this covering. We stand righteous and accepted before God because of Christ’s sacrifice, yet our hope is rooted in a not yet reality that God has still to reconcile all things to Himself.
I’m uncomfortable in this skin, but today I am covered clear to the return of my precious Savior and King.
let LOVE fly like cRaZy
Here’s a helpful guide for Lent if you are interested: http://www.aholyexperience.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Forgiveness.freshstarts.pdf
Too many times we imitate what we see in the world around us. We settle for mediocre instead of magnificent; for better instead of best.
As C.S. Lewis lamented, we are content to play in mud puddles instead of enjoying a holiday at the sea. This infographic from challies.com is helpful in understanding how God has designed us for BEST.
If you would like the graphic in high-resolution, you can download it in JPG or PDF.
There are simply too many things to read. I’m hoping (in light of yesterday’s post) that whatever knowledge we add to our heads today means adding obedience to our hearts. How can we use knowledge to result in obedient actions full of love?
Oh, Martin Luther. Do you know that Luther died on February 18, 1546? Maybe you need a little refresher about what this man contributed to our religious heritage. Read, “The Forgotten Influence of Martin Luther” from the Gospel Coalition blog.
Josh Garrels is an artist who is not afraid to do things differently. His most recent album is completely free to whoever wants it, because he said he has been overwhelmed by the blessings of his musical journey. Wow. He’s not a musical mess-around, either. What he makes is beautiful. Anyway, now Garrels is partnering with Mason Jar Music to make (what appears to be) a really incredible film.
Lastly, I wanted to mention (again) the film Tree of Life. The first time I watched it, I chewed on it for days but I missed SO much because I was scribbling notes on journal pages. The second time I watched it, tucked into an attic room with several beautiful folks, I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. Put it on your list and sit through it, if nothing else then for the music and cinematography.
Challenge: Choose one thing on this list and then ask how learning can lead to obeying and actions full of love. The whole idea of “this & that” is to keep informed, but cannot be just that. I realize there are blanks that need filling in, but this is the kind of thing we’re made for, right?
What does it mean that I now know England is wrestling with the religion of secularism, or that Martin Luther almost single-handedly changed the course of modern church history, or that Josh Garrels believes there is power when we invite others into our joy?
How can learning things in this life lead me to knowledge of God and produce acts of obedience full of love? I hope the answer is a treasure hidden in this day!
“… and teach them to obey all that I have commanded you.”
As I sat soaking up the the last minutes of lecture in Perspectives today, I almost didn’t hear these words, “We don’t teach to learn, we teach to obey.” My mind rewound and replayed and something clicked.
I don’t think obsessive is too strong a word to describe the fascination the West has with education. We are greedy about our learning. I’m smack dab in the thick of things, too. I want more in my brain, sometimes just so I can come up with something in conversation to trump the thing someone else said. It’s ugly, really. If you’ve ever seen that clip from Portlandia, it’s something like this and I’m not a bit proud of it.
We want knowledge because there’s something elite about it, something powerful.
and this was never how God intended knowledge
It was not a bad thing for Adam and Eve to know things about the Lord, about the garden, about their place in it. In fact, It delighted God for humans to grow in understanding because it produced praise – the lifestyle kind – where their knowledge resulted in actions full of love. The more they knew of God, the more they wanted to know of Him and please Him. We all know that came to a bad end, but it’s important to remember that our pursuit of knowledge hasn’t always been bittersweet. It was once only beautiful.
“… and teach them to obey all that I commanded you.” These are Jesus’ well-known words from Matthew 28. He is not asking the disciples to go out and form institutions where they teach people to learn. Learning for the sake of learning is a lame movement. The only thing contagious about it is our own greed for more. Learning to obey means letting knowledge sink down deep where it won’t grow stale – where it turns into obedient actions full of love.
When we learn to obey, we know our Master in such a way that our greatest delight is to please Him. When we teach to obey we are teaching that following Christ means conforming to His image (not knowing about conforming to His image).
How dismal the Gospel would be if it was only about knowing. How glorious that, through our obedience, God sanctifies us. I don’t want to just learn the Gospel and I don’t want to teach others to just learn the Gospel.
I want to obey and teach others to obey, that God would be glorified and that our supreme delight would be in Him.
Last night, around the dinner table, we got into a pretty heated discussion (which is unfortunately my modus operandi). The topic is not as important to me as my conversation this morning with my cousin. I guess you could say it was one of those personal revelations – where the layers peeled back and the “real me” was exposed.
I’ve mentioned before my grappling with the meaning of a “gentle and quiet” spirit that Peter talks about in 1 Peter 3:3-4,
Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.
I wrestle these words.
I want to justify my crazy personality, want to know that “who I am” is okay – even if I’m not the quiet girl praying in the corner. I do believe God sanctifies our personalities, but I’m just not sure how to balance my uniqueness with the ways God desires to transform me to His image.
Enter my cousin Vince.
This morning, I asked him about last night’s discussion. I knew the argument ruffled his feathers and I wanted to know what I could do better. I also, selfishly, wanted to know how to achieve that “quiet and gentle spirit” and still be, well, me.
In the course of our conversation, I realized a major character flaw that needs to be seriously refined by fire.
In a conversation/argument/debate, I often appear confident and decided in my view even if I’m not convinced of it myself.
Even writing it looks lame, but it’s true. I’m not sure who to blame – my brothers for their ruthless monopoly bullying or my sister for all those squabbles over borrowing clothes. In the end, I know it’s my own heart that is so stubborn. It’s my own pride that prevents me from saying, “I’m not really sure. What do you think?” It’s my selfishness that refuses to ask questions and instead offers, “Well, I think…” statements.
I love to process through ideas, philosophies, and theological dilemmas. I welcome questions because every assumption/belief must be challenged to reveal its roots. But, I’ve often made my mind up to be defensive before I am convinced of my own position. I don’t ask questions or consider another as better than myself (Philippians 2:3) on the debate floor. My main focus is to be heard and understood, not to hear and understand.
Oh, dear. This confession is getting ugly.
Over omelettes and coffee this morning, my heart looked sour and silly. Vince saw through my selfishness to ways it has blinded my own heart. He saw my veneer of pride and called me out.
This is a rebuke past due that makes me wonder how many relationships and conversations would have ended differently.
My own pride keeps me from conforming to my Creator, but I would probably argue to the death that it’s not so.
Oh, that I would throw off all that entangles so that I can truly
work job #1
go for a run against the wind so I don’t have to shower
work job #2
run errands
read/write/think
I’ve always packed my schedule airtight and then fought for space to dream between the scheduled lines. Today, on my between-works-run I started to think about all the things I pass over because it would inconvenience me (if I’m looking to add anything to my packed day, it better not be inconvenient).
I pounded the ground and wondered about my selfishness. Some of the most pressing needs of those around me will make my life most inconvenient. Those are also usually the most blessed encounters.
I hope I can train my brain to look for the inconvenient ways I can serve others and be willing to do those with a joyful heart. In the end, “inconvenient” is just another way I look to serve myself instead of others around me. I want to be like Timothy, who took a genuine interest in the welfare of others (Philippians 2:20).
My guess is that Timothy was inconvenienced like we wouldn’t believe. I want to be more like that.
Today is pretty regular.
How can I train my heart to look for ways to make it irregular by serving – even if it means inconvenience?
MUSINGS IN THE MIDST 