Blinded by Manna

I fall asleep to the sound of rain, muffled by the roof over our head which keeps us warm for the night.  I love the rain, but that's because I have the luxury of observing it from safety and shelter.  Others don't have this.

I wake up to the sound of birds enjoying the fresh, sun streaked morning, singing their song for whoever chooses to listen. I pull the covers close to my head and nestle into the silky sheets we received as a wedding gift. I could sleep in, but I choose to wake up.

As I get ready, I mentally browse through my breakfast options as one browses the internet, with little haste and no sense of urgency.  Aimlessly, really.  Eggs?  Smoothie?  Cereal?  Oatmeal? Which cereal? Shredded Wheat?  Cheerios? It doesn't really matter.  Whatever I choose, I'll walk out of my one-bedroom apartment, ideally situated close to Old Towne (the "e" is silent) Orange with no sense of hunger.

I enter my closet, pull open the drawer and grab the first shirt off the top of the pile.  It's one I wear often, as I don't take the time to search through the shirts at the bottom of the drawer.  Besides, my favorite shirts are always at the top.  That's why they're there.  Duh.

I put on my new pair of khakis, pants I didn't really need, but I had tried them on at Old Navy and I thought I looked pretty good.  Especially when I wear it with my black North Face Jacket.  I think it makes me look part adventurer, part worker, part down-to-earth guy, an image I'd love to convey.

I open up the refrigerator to make myself lunch for the day when I realize that we've left our lunch supplies at church.  I could grab a few slices of bread to make a sandwich with the meat and cheese we have.  Or I could use the new Trader Joe gift cards we have to buy myself something for lunch.  I choose the latter.  I'll always have sandwiches.  I won't always have TJ gift cards.

After arriving at church, I sit down at my desk, surrounded by piles of papers and books, some of which have felt very neglected as of late.  I grab my Bible and open to Exodus 17, the story of God's provision of manna for the Israelites.

It's amazing really.  They wake up each morning and food is there for them, lying on the ground, waiting to be collected, like a fresh blanket of snow.  As each family gathers food, they find that there is always enough for each day, never more, never less.

They did this for 40 years.  Each day, waking up to a fresh blanket of food covering the ground, just enough for each day.  I wonder if they ever took it for granted?  Or was each day as exciting as the first?  Did there come a point in time, after they had gone through their "365 Ways to Cook Manna" cookbook a few times, they were, dare I say it, ungrateful?  It sure did.  Numbers 11 documents their desire for a little meat to go with their manna.

Those silly Israelites.  If only their hearts weren't so hardened.  If only they didn't try to gather more than they needed.  If only they were truly grateful for the things God had given them.  If I had lived through the wilderness wandering, I'm sure I would have been grateful.

I best be going.  I've got a dinner to make.  Or maybe we'll eat out.  We don't really have much good food to eat anyway.

Slowing Down for Lent

In America we've lost the art & space of stillness. We are a super time-oriented culture. When we were in Ireland last summer, I was shocked to see there were no clocks in any of the hotel rooms. Sometimes our wake up calls were 20 minutes early. To me this seemed crazy, but they were just taking their time and slowly enjoying their life as it happened. The Church in other countries sometimes calls the American Church the "Happy Clappy" church. Our worship services reflect it - 3 fast songs to get us excited, 1 power ballad reflective song, then back on our feet clapping, before we hear a sermon and we're off to lunch. Here in Orange County, we're accustomed to a happy-clappy, fast paced lifestyle. I find myself pasting on a smile, packing my schedule full of activities, hopping from point A to B all day before getting home at 10pm and starting it all over again. In a state of perpetual haste, lots of things get run over, and quality time with the Lord is no exception.

So when Calvin asked me the other morning if we wanted to give up something for Lent, I decided that I'm going to give up speeding. I meant this most literally. Our friend Brendan (whose wisdom you can read in his own blog, Watch . Listen . Be .) gave up speeding for Lent a few years ago. He noted a few things - 1. You don't get anywhere significantly faster if you speed, 30 seconds, maybe. 2. Slowing down to the speed limit helps you slow down your heart & mind as well. I've been practicing slowing down on the freeways the last few days, and it's amazing how a small, intentional action can change my attitude as I start to my day. As cars whiz past me at 85mph+, I don't feel angry, or the need to compete, or change lines every 30 seconds to get 5 yards ahead. I feel calmer & more present in the car to listen to the radio, to pray, to sing, whatever. My heart takes cues from my body slowing down.

I'm hoping that this physical slowing will bleed into the attitude of my heart and mind. As I slow down in my car, in trying to multitask 4 things at once, in my work, in my time getting ready in the morning, etc. I'm praying that God will open my eyes to see his movement around me. That in my new commitment to slowness, I'll spend more time reflecting & listening to God in my daily time in the Word, not just crossing it off my list. I'm confident He's already moving in my midst, but most of the time I'm flying past him, too busy & too fast to notice anything around me.

In my hurried, speeding state I usually feel a little bit crazy. A little bit (probably a lot) rude to my husband as I'm rushing around the house. A little bit more important than the people I'm speeding past. A little bit self-consumed. Though in the moment running a little late or getting stuck behind that car on the freeway seems inconvenient, I think this "sacrifice" for Lent will slowly shape me more into Christ-likeness. And drawing closer to Jesus is what Lent's all about right?

Daddy Issues

A few weeks ago, I (Kenzie) read through the account of Abraham & Isaac in Genesis 22. Here God tests Abraham's faithfulness by asking him to sacrifice his only son as an offering. Like many others who have grown up in the church, I've heard this story time and time again. It's easy to read the story in light of its ending. God sends an angel to stop Abraham from killing his son.& instead provides a ram to sacrifice on the mountain. Hooray! We happily gloss over the details, then admire Abraham's faith and devotion to God. Not this time. I finished reading, turned to Calvin, and said "Okay, now where are the follow up chapters that talk about how Isaac never trusted his dad again, spent the rest of his life in therapy recovering from trauma, and decided this "God of Abraham" thing was not for him? Can you imagine the conversation between Abraham & Sarah when they return from their trip? "Welcome back, honey, how was your trip with your dad? Good bonding time?"

But, as with many of the details of the Bible, the reader is left to imagine. Daddy issues. That's what I imagine. Serious PTSD, trust problems, and big-time daddy issues. In fact, this story haunted me for weeks. I really struggled with why God would test Abraham like this. We praise Abraham for his faithfulness, yet I have to wonder about the task set before him. Anyone who tried to do the same today in the name of God would end up with CPS at their front door & a nice, long jail sentence.

Calvin gave me a good read on this, which gave good insights, but still didn't ease the tension I felt. As I reflected & struggled through my questions, I have come to no profound or comforting conclusion. In fact, it still makes me really uncomfortable. But as I continue to wrestle with my discomfort over this story, I've realized how comfortable I've become with the gospel. Here is this story of a father, asked to sacrifice his one and only son, and I am appalled. I'm cringing, sweating, then relieved that he doesn't have to go through with it. Yet here's another story I'm very comfortable with - a father sacrifices his one and only son, who willingly agrees to die, and no one stops it. In fact the crowds encourage it. And I'm indifferent. Hmm...sound like a familiar story line?

My intense discomfort with Abraham's story has only highlighted my silence to the Father's willingness to do the same. Abraham proved his love and devotion to the Lord. And the Lord has proved his love, devotion, and forgiveness to us in Jesus. He has spared nothing to pursue us, to show us His amazing love, yet sometimes I sit back with my own spiritual daddy issues, uncertain if I'm ready to trust Him.

May I continue to hear with fresh ears and react when I hear the absurdity of the gospel - that a Father would give his only Son to ransom us. That deserves a reaction. It's a story worth telling. It's a God worth getting to know.

Faithfulness over Efficiency

Of the many lessons I've learned in marriage, one of the most important is the need to choose one's words wisely.  For instance, one evening, having dinner with close friends, Kenzie and I were asked what the title of a book would be that chronicled our first year of marriage. My first response was "Pre-Marital Failure," which was an attempt to convey how I felt that pre-marital counseling, while helpful, did little to truly prepare Kenzie and I for the profound mysteriousness of marriage. Unfortunately, all Kenzie heard was that I thought our marriage was a failure. The moral of the story? Choose your words wisely, for they can communicate far more than you may intend.

This lesson is not only applicable in all marriages, relationships, and friendships, but I think we need to be mindful of this in the way we speak of God and the work he has beckoned us to join him in. For instance, as Christians, I think the words "effective" and "efficient" should be eradicated from our vocabulary when it comes to talking about ministry.  Eradicated?  Strong word I know, but I feel quite strongly about this.

I have no problem with people running an effective business or being mindful of more efficient ways to accomplish one's work. Effectiveness and efficiency communicate the importance of maximizing one's resources, finding the best way with a minimal amount of supplies to create the biggest net result. These words, if they could talk, might say, "We know the goal we're pursuing, but can we attain it in a better, faster, more productive way? Can we save time, energy, or money?"  Effectiveness focuses on results and the means by which those results are achieved.  And sometimes, when effectiveness is the highest priority, the means by which results are attained are uncritically accepted.  Then, it doesn't matter exactly how you do it as long as you get the most results. The ends begin to justify the means.

These words are great for a business, but horrible for the church. God is not concerned with effectiveness and efficiency, but faithfulness. God is not concerned just with the results, but with every step of the process.  Everything we do says something about who God is and what his Kingdom is like. With faithfulness, the goal is not results, but conformity to and unity with God.

I could see effectiveness and efficiency having a place within the church if the goal is the glory of God.  Effectiveness then becomes, "How can I maximize glory for God?" which is a lot more akin to faithfulness. But glory to God is a bit more intangible than, for instance, more people.  And efficiency and effectiveness tend to focus more on what we can see and measure. Eventually, over time, the ends will eclipse the means. Thus, if we removed the words altogether from our vocabulary, I think it would free us to faithfulness.

Some may think that I'm creating a false dichotomy here, which may be true. I just can't help but think about Jesus' ministry, who gave such difficult teachings that many walked away and abandoned him completely.  Effective?  Probably not. Faithful? He's the primary image of what faithfulness looks like.

Top 10 Things Christians Say that Aren't in the Bible

Anyone that's spent a decent amount of time in Christian culture can identify some "Christianese" - language that we casually toss around among believers but any outsider would be hard pressed to know what we mean. For example -"I was so blessed by that song." or "I echo that prayer." If you need a good laugh, check out this video, Shoot Christians Say.

All in good fun, we are offering our Top 10 Things Christians Say that Aren't in the Bible.

1. God took him/her home because he needed another flower in His garden.

While sweetly intended, I don't know any grieving person that would find comfort in God taking someone they loved so that He can have another sunflower. Also, why is it comforting that we become potted plants after we die? Yikes.

2. God will not give you more than you can handle.

Have you ever read the account of Abraham and Isaac? In what planet is that bearable for a parent? Mental illness? War? Tragedy?

3. God helps those who help themselves.

Actually, Republicans say that.

4. Where two or more are gathered, there He will be also...

This actually is biblical, it comes right from Matthew 18, but context is key - the passage is talking about church discipline. Check it out. We tend to use this passage to say if two or more are gathered then we can confidently know God is here with us. Don't worry, you can talk to God when you're alone, too.

5. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

The ultimate Christian sports team t-shirt verse. Again, let's look context - Paul is talking about some pretty extreme suffering conditions, namely that he can be in plenty or want and do it all through Christ who gives him strength. But if any of you find a secret strategy to running faster or jumping higher because of this verse, let us know!

6. The safest place to be is the center of God's will

I guess this one depends on how you interpret "safe"...but all of the disciples were martyred. We'll concede to C.S. Lewis' quote in Narnia for this one, "He's not safe, but he's good."

 

7. Let go, let God

In all fairness, sometimes we can get in the way of what God is doing and need to let Him be God. More often than not, however, this is quoted after something doesn't go well & we don't want to take responsibility.

8. Jesus is my boyfriend.

No, he's not. That's kinda weird.

 

9. When God closes a door, He opens a window.

Does God have a plan for us and know what's best for us? Yes. Does God enjoy making us crawl through small spaces? I doubt it.

10. Love the sinner, hate the sin.

Let us know how that conversation goes with your non-Christian friends...Instead let's just love them and let the Holy Spirit do His job in turning them toward Jesus & sanctifying them.

In His/Her Own Likeness

I love Genesis and reading of the creation of humanity.  It's beautiful to know that man and woman are created in the likeness and image of God. Though God is completely other and different from us, nonetheless we share a similarity with God.  We come from God, we find that our life flows from God, we are somehow like God, but we are not God nor can we be equated with him.  In God's creation of humanity, there is similarity and difference, continuity alongside originality. In this tension between similarity and difference, there was the opportunity that God's creation, made in his image, might choose to live contrary to that divine image.

When I reflect on God's creation of humanity, I think there is something we can learn about parenting.  Now I'm not a parent, nor am I expecting to be a parent anytime soon. But as one who works with high school students and their parents, I've had the opportunity to observe both good and bad parenting. One thing that I've noticed is the temptation for parents to fashion their children into their own image.  Just as God creates in his own likeness, parents create children in their own likeness as well. Children adopt their parents facial structure, personality quirks, mannerisms, and even the tone of voice.  I've heard many parents say how simultaneously joyful and frightening it is to see the similarities between themselves and their children. In one sense, it is inevitable that children will be made in the likeness of their parents.

The temptation is in the fashioning. I imagine that another human being that looks like you, talks like you, and acts like you can feel like the extension of one's self. When this human being fails, it feels like you've failed.  When they look bad, they make you look bad. But if you can keep them from failing, from messing up, from making the same mistakes you made, then maybe they might turn out better than you did.

And so parents begin to fashion. Urging their child to play a certain sport. Requiring practice so similar mistakes aren't made. Demanding a better performance in school saying, "'B's' just aren't good enough." High standards, lofty expectations, and a persistent drive for more. And over time, I think children will come to realize that these standards weren't for the child, but for the parent. This is one, of many, reasons why children resist their parents.

God is the one who fashions, molds, and transforms.  He invites parents into that process but in the end, its His work and His job.  Just as God made humanity different, so too children are different than their parents.  Children are not a second chance for parents, but an entirely new creation.  Parenting absolutely involves discipline, training, and instruction, but above all else, a parent's calling is to not fashion their children into their own image, but into God's image.  This is God's work.  Parent's get the sheer joy of being a part of it.

 

My Love-Hate Relationship with the Bible

Sometimes I strongly dislike reading the Bible. I know it sounds unChristian to say that, but its true.  Before you begin to question my salvation or my calling to pastoral ministry, let me explain.

I believe that the way that we have treated Scripture and approached it has created a set of false expectations of what we expect to experience when we enter into God's word. I've heard many pastors encourage the practice of reading Scripture in the morning (which I agree with) so that you begin the day correctly and see everything through God's eyes.But sometimes when this application is put forth, there seems to be an idea that you will always get something out of Scripture.  That whenever you read it, God's going to show you something new and radically change your day.  I know I've even said this before in my teachings.  The problem is that this isn't always true, nor does it always happen.  Maybe I'm doing something wrong, but sometimes I read God's word and it's really boring.  Sometimes I feel like I'm just reading and nothing more.  And when I "get nothing out of it," I'm disappointed.

Other times, (prepare yourself for broad generalization) we see Scripture as an Encyclopedia of spiritual truths and promises that will make our day better. And so we read the juggernaut passages that proclaim, "I know the plans I have for you," "Your name is written in the palm of my hand," "I can do anything through Christ who gives me strength." But we enter into our day and it's not long before we get in a fight with a close friend, find out we might not be able to pay rent, or just feel completely abandoned by God. Thus Scripture can give hope, but it can also be a reminder of how far we are from living these spiritual insights. Again, I get disappointed.

The issue in both instances above is not Scripture, but in the way we think of it and approach it.  Scripture does not exist to give you a spiritual high for the day. The Bible is not an encyclopedia to give you spiritual insights for the day.  It is not the tool to make sure that your day is better.  It does not exist to assure you that you are good enough, smart enough, and gosh darn it people like you. The Bible is the revelation of God.  We read it, not to gather information, but to encounter and be encountered by God. So I think it makes sense that we be disappointed when Scripture doesn't make us feel good or doesn't seem to provide spiritual insights because it was never meant to do that. In God's word we get to know God.

At this point, you probably want to hear me say that when I read God's word as a means to know God and to hear him speak, then I enjoy reading the Bible. But again, when I do hear God speak, I don't often like what he says. He calls away from comfort, away from feeling good, away from the security of self and into a death that will ultimately lead to life.  But I've gotta get through that death first.  And a lot of the time, I don't like the process of death.  I'm not sure many do. Don't get me wrong. 

I was reading Matthew 13 today and over and over again, Jesus tells these picture/stories of what his kingdom looks like.  It looks like a seed that bears fruit, yielding a hundredfold. It looks like a tiny seed that grows into the biggest tree. It looks like yeast that transforms the whole loaf of bread. Wheat and weeds living together. A man selling all he has to buy a field. A merchant giving everything he owns to purchase a pearl. A net that gathers fish. And the more I read the more I realized how far from this kingdom life I am. In these parables, I heard the voice of God beckoning me to death. Come to the grave. Give me your dry bones and into them, I will breathe life.

You might be wanting me to close with an exhortation to read Scripture. I think you should.  Even though I don't always like it, I keep doing it.  I need it.  It really is life for my soul.  There have absolutely been times when God speaks his peace and comfort over me.  There are times when I come to his living stream and drink deeply of the life that he gives. But if you're only looking to feel good, the Bible's not the place for that. If you want to have your life flipped upside down, your world transformed, and your life altered, then read Scripture. You'll be speaking with God, but there's no promise that you'll like what he says.