Last week I read an account of cosmologist Stephen Hawking's address to a group of people at the California Institute of Technology. It truly is hard not to be impressed with the man's brilliant mind, and his very determined battle with the devastating disease of ALS. It came as no surprise to me that when he spoke at Caltech he outlined a concept of creation which does not include a creator. The article from NBC News stated that Hawking believes that, "Time began at the moment of singularity, and this likely occurred only once." It is not clear to me how, "The moment of singularity," and, "In the beginning God created," differ, but I am not a cosmologist, physicist or any type of scientific thinker, so that is to be expected.
Apparently, according to the article, he also discussed something called the M-theory which, "posits that multiple universes are created out of nothing,with many possible histories and many possible states of existence. In only a few of these states would life be possible, and in fewer still could something like humanity exist." Again, mine is not a scientific mind, so I don't pretend to understand it.....but that is apparently what he believes.
One of my earliest memories....and I fully realize that I am not going to be able to put this into words that explain it real well... but, one of my earliest memories is of lying in bed, in the stillness of the night, trying to sense what it was that made me....well....me. Trying to feel what it was that made me different from, say, my brother who was probably in a bed on the other side of the room. What was it that allowed me to be who I was, and not somebody else? Weird, I know. Or, perhaps everyone goes through this phase and have the wisdom not to speak of it.
I knew that as I played with my friends on the playground, that we all looked different, that we all had different levels of ability and inability.....but, as a lay in the quiet darkness, I would try to touch the essence of my individuality. Although I did not realize it at the time, I was trying to grab hold of what made me human. More importantly, I was trying to grasp what made me different than every other human around me. When I say, "different," I don't mean better or worse, I mean unique. What made me unique from the kids next to me, and what made them unique from me? What was it that made us individually unique human beings? One last try. What made them....them? And what made me....me?
Occasionally, in those short moments between wakefulness and sleep, I would grasp the truth that what made me the person I was had to be defined by something more than the physical...something more than what I saw in the mirror. And, at times, I could almost grab onto it....or however a child would describe that sense.....I would come close to grasping it...close to laying hold of it. I would feel, for an instant, the part of me that was really me. But only for an instant. Then I would fall asleep, and get up in the morning to play army in the backyard. Understand, I wasn't trying to comprehend it, for that would not have been possible for a child....but something would well up within me through which I could almost touch that part of my being that made me the individual I was.
I remember the sensation. I remember the feeling. I remember, in the quietness of the night, consciously putting myself in the place to consider the uniqueness of being me. That was over five decades ago, and I have not experienced the feeling since. I can remember reaching a point, as I grew older, where I would try, but other thoughts would enter my mind, and I could never get myself back to a quiet enough state to experience the sensation.
I understand that it is weird, and I warned you that I wasn't going to be able to explain it very well, but there you have it.
I believe children have a much stronger sense of the spiritual than adults. Children in their innocence, without preconceptions , predispositions, or biases, are able to perceive the divine in its absolutely simplest form. They absorb it, without attempting to explain it. They are not afraid of it, so they allow themselves to be drawn to it.
It has been over a half century since I experienced what I have spent several paragraphs trying to explain, and with those years I have grown to understand that in my childhood innocence I had began to lay hold of my soul....to lay hold of my spirit....to lay hold of that which was divinely placed in me. I had begun to grab onto that intangible part of me that made me human. Even more than that, it was the part of me that made me unique as a human being.
I understand now that I have a body, but I am a living soul. "Then the LORD God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." Genesis 2:7 St. Augustine spoke of the soul as a “rider” on the body, making clear the distinction between the material and the immaterial, with the soul representing the “true” person.
Scholars like Stephen Hawking would maintain with theories like the M-Theory that there are, as I quoted earlier, "Many possible states of existence. In only a few of these states would life be possible, and in fewer still could something like humanity exist." And that without intelligent design. Without a Creator God.
I, on the other hand, would maintain that humanity exists only by the touch of the Creator. Only through the breath of God.
The problem is, the soul and spirit that gives us life.....that makes the body of clay a living being...cannot be quantified. It cannot be explained by equations on a white board, or dissected in a laboratory. It cannot be calculated with mathematics or formulas, or determined by physics or cosmology. And without grasping what it is that makes humankind human, one cannot begin to comprehend the reasons, purposes or power that spun the rest of creation into existence.
"At that time Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and revealed them to little children." (Matthew 11:25)
Man can attempt to explain creation, and the Creator has given us minds to explore and question and comprehend. But to do so without. "In the beginning God created," or "Then the LORD God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul," is nothing short of folly. String theory, M-Theory, and the moment of singularity may touch on some of the physics and principles the Creator set in place when what we know as the universe flowed from the perfection of the Godhead.....but the knowledge is miniscule. It is as insignificant as a sigh in a hurricane.
I'm rambling, I know. But I do join my Savior in thanking the Father that he has hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and revealed them to little children. I praise him for breathing into me the breath of life, and making me a living soul. But, more than anything, I praise him for allowing his Spirit to touch mine and allowing me to be a soul that belongs to him. A soul that is sealed by him. And, in eternity, a soul that will continue to grow in the knowledge of the depth of all that took place when, "In the beginning God created...."
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Brennan Manning, Fellow Ragamuffin
“In the end everything will be all right, nothing can harm you permanently; no loss is lasting, no defeat more than transitory, no disappointment is conclusive. Suffering, failure, loneliness, sorrow, discouragement, and death will be part of your journey, but the kingdom of God will conquer all these horrors. No evil can resist grace forever.” (Brennan Manning: "The Ragamuffin Gospel)
If you were to search for that quote, or portions of it, in the past couple of days, you would have found it in many places. The most notable of these would have been Brennan Manning's obituary (http://brennanmanning.com/). It is true, the ragamuffin who taught many of us that we are nothing more than tattered, disreputable, messes until we are overwhelmed by God's grace is now, as the obituary says, "Resting safely in the arms of his Abba." I love that. If, when I join the band of ragamuffins in glory, someone should choose to mark the memory of my existence on a piece of granite....and I really don't give a rip either way....but, if someone should, those would be wonderful words to chisel on the stone.
I first read The Ragamuffin Gospel more than two decades ago when I had taken a pretty serious fall from self deluded images of me flying at spiritual heights. In the years leading up to that time, if I were to be brutally honest, although I would never have dared speak it or really even to think it, a small part of me was convinced that Christ was pretty fortunate that I had made the choice to follow him. Successful ministries. People becoming Christians. Words of praise from believers and nonbelievers alike. I understood the necessity of grace, and could preach on it convincingly, but there was always my ability, my pride, my ego running like varicose veins through the beauty of the abundant grace the Father had poured into my life.
But, as the Message paraphrases Proverbs 16:18, "First pride, then the crash— the bigger the ego, the harder the fall." Well, there was a fall, and Brennan's book was there to begin to explain to me that everything is grace. Through the years, with some successes and many failures, I have grown to realize the depth of this truth and have plunged head long into the infinite pool of grace poured out on Calvary, and I am staggered by it's magnitude every day. I have grown to appreciate Brennan's words:
“The deeper we grow in the Spirit of Jesus Christ, the poorer we become - the more we realize that everything in life is a gift. The tenor of our lives becomes one of humble and joyful thanksgiving. Awareness of our poverty and ineptitude causes us to rejoice in the gift of being called out of darkness into wondrous light and translated into the kingdom of God's beloved Son.”
I call Brennan by his first name, not because I knew him personally or ever met the man, but because his life parallels mine in some respects, and I have always felt a certain kinship with him. Ragamuffins, I suppose. Since both of us have had our battles with alcohol, two quotes from The Ragamuffin Gospel have always stuck with me. The first is: "When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer." The other is: "Through no merit of mine, I have been given a bona fide invitation to drink new wine forever in the Kingdom of God. (Incidentally, for a recovering alcoholic, that's heaven.)" Not that I make light of anyone's struggle with alcohol...but I did like the quotes.
I paged through my copy of The Ragamuffin Gospel again this morning, reading the portions I had marked all those years ago. So many wonderful thoughts.
"Whatever past achievements might bring us honor, whatever past disgraces might make us blush, all have been crucified with Christ and exist no more except in the deep recesses of eternity, where "good is enhanced into glory and evil miraculously established as part of the greater good." As a side note, I would refer the reader to Augustine's paraphrase of Paul: "That for those who love God everything works unto good, even sin."
Or, "The saved sinner is prostrate in adoration , lost in wonder and praise. He knows repentance is not what we do in order to earn forgiveness; it is what we do because we have been forgiven. Thus the sequence of forgiveness then repentance, rather than repentance and then forgiveness, is crucial for understanding the gospel of grace."
Or this, "The Christian with depth is the person who has failed and learned to live with it."
Another, “The ragamuffin who sees his life as a voyage of discovery and runs the risk of failure has a better feel for faithfulness than the timid man who hides behind the law and never finds out who he is at all.”
There are so many, but I will leave you with this one: “The confessing church of American Ragamuffins needs to join Magdalene and Peter in witnessing that Christianity is not primarily a moral code but a grace-laden mystery; it is not essentially a philosophy of love but a love affair; it is not keeping rules with clenched fists but receiving a gift with open hands.”
I have not read Brennan Manning's last book, but it is next on my list. It is appropriately entitled, "All is Grace," and I absolutely love the one quote I've seen from it:
My life is a witness to vulgar grace — a grace that amazes as it offends. A grace that pays the eager beaver who works all day long the same wage as the grinning drunk who shows up at ten till five. A grace that hikes up the robe and runs breakneck toward the prodigal reeking of sin and wraps him up and decides to throw a party, no ifs, ands, or buts. A grace that raises bloodshot eyes to a dying thief’s request — “Please, remember me” — and assures him, “You bet!”…This vulgar grace is indiscriminate compassion. It works without asking anything of us. It’s not cheap. It’s free, and as such will always be a banana peel for the orthodox foot and a fairy tale for the grown-up sensibility. Grace is sufficient even though we huff and puff with all our might to try and find something or someone that it cannot cover. Grace is enough… ~ Brennan Manning (All is Grace)
Amen, brother Brennan....Amen!
If you were to search for that quote, or portions of it, in the past couple of days, you would have found it in many places. The most notable of these would have been Brennan Manning's obituary (http://brennanmanning.com/). It is true, the ragamuffin who taught many of us that we are nothing more than tattered, disreputable, messes until we are overwhelmed by God's grace is now, as the obituary says, "Resting safely in the arms of his Abba." I love that. If, when I join the band of ragamuffins in glory, someone should choose to mark the memory of my existence on a piece of granite....and I really don't give a rip either way....but, if someone should, those would be wonderful words to chisel on the stone.
I first read The Ragamuffin Gospel more than two decades ago when I had taken a pretty serious fall from self deluded images of me flying at spiritual heights. In the years leading up to that time, if I were to be brutally honest, although I would never have dared speak it or really even to think it, a small part of me was convinced that Christ was pretty fortunate that I had made the choice to follow him. Successful ministries. People becoming Christians. Words of praise from believers and nonbelievers alike. I understood the necessity of grace, and could preach on it convincingly, but there was always my ability, my pride, my ego running like varicose veins through the beauty of the abundant grace the Father had poured into my life.
But, as the Message paraphrases Proverbs 16:18, "First pride, then the crash— the bigger the ego, the harder the fall." Well, there was a fall, and Brennan's book was there to begin to explain to me that everything is grace. Through the years, with some successes and many failures, I have grown to realize the depth of this truth and have plunged head long into the infinite pool of grace poured out on Calvary, and I am staggered by it's magnitude every day. I have grown to appreciate Brennan's words:
“The deeper we grow in the Spirit of Jesus Christ, the poorer we become - the more we realize that everything in life is a gift. The tenor of our lives becomes one of humble and joyful thanksgiving. Awareness of our poverty and ineptitude causes us to rejoice in the gift of being called out of darkness into wondrous light and translated into the kingdom of God's beloved Son.”
I call Brennan by his first name, not because I knew him personally or ever met the man, but because his life parallels mine in some respects, and I have always felt a certain kinship with him. Ragamuffins, I suppose. Since both of us have had our battles with alcohol, two quotes from The Ragamuffin Gospel have always stuck with me. The first is: "When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer." The other is: "Through no merit of mine, I have been given a bona fide invitation to drink new wine forever in the Kingdom of God. (Incidentally, for a recovering alcoholic, that's heaven.)" Not that I make light of anyone's struggle with alcohol...but I did like the quotes.
I paged through my copy of The Ragamuffin Gospel again this morning, reading the portions I had marked all those years ago. So many wonderful thoughts.
"Whatever past achievements might bring us honor, whatever past disgraces might make us blush, all have been crucified with Christ and exist no more except in the deep recesses of eternity, where "good is enhanced into glory and evil miraculously established as part of the greater good." As a side note, I would refer the reader to Augustine's paraphrase of Paul: "That for those who love God everything works unto good, even sin."
Or, "The saved sinner is prostrate in adoration , lost in wonder and praise. He knows repentance is not what we do in order to earn forgiveness; it is what we do because we have been forgiven. Thus the sequence of forgiveness then repentance, rather than repentance and then forgiveness, is crucial for understanding the gospel of grace."
Or this, "The Christian with depth is the person who has failed and learned to live with it."
Another, “The ragamuffin who sees his life as a voyage of discovery and runs the risk of failure has a better feel for faithfulness than the timid man who hides behind the law and never finds out who he is at all.”
There are so many, but I will leave you with this one: “The confessing church of American Ragamuffins needs to join Magdalene and Peter in witnessing that Christianity is not primarily a moral code but a grace-laden mystery; it is not essentially a philosophy of love but a love affair; it is not keeping rules with clenched fists but receiving a gift with open hands.”
I have not read Brennan Manning's last book, but it is next on my list. It is appropriately entitled, "All is Grace," and I absolutely love the one quote I've seen from it:
My life is a witness to vulgar grace — a grace that amazes as it offends. A grace that pays the eager beaver who works all day long the same wage as the grinning drunk who shows up at ten till five. A grace that hikes up the robe and runs breakneck toward the prodigal reeking of sin and wraps him up and decides to throw a party, no ifs, ands, or buts. A grace that raises bloodshot eyes to a dying thief’s request — “Please, remember me” — and assures him, “You bet!”…This vulgar grace is indiscriminate compassion. It works without asking anything of us. It’s not cheap. It’s free, and as such will always be a banana peel for the orthodox foot and a fairy tale for the grown-up sensibility. Grace is sufficient even though we huff and puff with all our might to try and find something or someone that it cannot cover. Grace is enough… ~ Brennan Manning (All is Grace)
Amen, brother Brennan....Amen!
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Lessons From Abby and Hunter
Don't know if I've mentioned it on here or not, but we have a couple of dogs. A brother and a sister. Abby and Hunter. We tell people that they are part black lab and part Rottweiler. The veterinarian claims that they have a few more breeds than those two in them, but Abby and Hunter seem content with those two, so we don't tell them anything else. They are almost four years old, are not allowed in the house, but are considered part of the family none-the-less. Since they have been together since birth....except for the one night Hunter had to spend at the veterinarian with a badly cut paw....they are extremely close dogs.
I walk with them and jog with them regularly. They enjoy it, it's good exercise for all of us, and a wonderful time of prayer and meditation for me. It certainly works out for everyone involved.
One of my favorite places to walk with them is along the Kettle River. Since I grew up on that river, it has a special place in my heart. The view along the road/trail we walk on is fantastic, we don't meet many people, the dogs run freely, and it's one of my most treasured places to pray and meditate.
Occasionally, especially during a walk on a particularly beautiful day, my mind drifts to what life will be like in eternity. I am nowhere close to being an expert on the matter but, as I understand it, we believers will rule with Christ in a new heaven and new earth. Obviously, I have no idea what that will be like, and I am not sure how it will look or work out in practice. But I do imagine that river being a part of the new creation. I picture that same rough road running along it's edge. I admit to my Lord that I have no idea how responsibility will be divided when he returns to reign, but I make it clear that I would be perfectly content managing that section of the Kettle River. Perhaps I deserve less. I doubt I deserve more. But I have put in my request, and would be satisfied walking that road with my Savior in eternity. It would be nice if the dogs could walk it with us, but I am in no position to insist upon it.
Over the years I have had many dogs, and the Holy Spirit has used them all to teach me lessons. Abby and Hunter taught me one last week.
When I jog with the dogs, it's always along the same path. Down the road from our house, take a left to the railroad tracks, and then follow the tracks home. When we jog, I let them run freely when possible but I leave their leashes on in case we meet a car. I then grab the leash's until the car passes, and then they run freely again. Usually, when we get to the end of the railroad tracks the dogs are close by and will catch up to me when I call.
During this particular run, I got to the end of the tracks and called for them, but the dogs did not come. I waited awhile thinking that they would eventually show up, but they didn't. I got my car, drove around our jogging area calling for them, went back to the end of the tracks and called some more....but no sign of my dogs. I was getting concerned, especially since neither of them were showing up. I began walking back up the tracks, becoming increasingly concerned that something bad had happened, calling and scanning the woods for any sign of my puppies. I was determined not to go home without them.
About a mile up the tracks, when I yelled I thought I heard a whine in the distance. I knew it was the dogs, but I had no idea how I would find them in the thick woods. I called again and heard the same whine, this time closer. I kept walking up the tracks, trying to figure out the general area the noise was coming from when Abby came running from the woods toward me. Obviously, I was relieved that she was alright, but was still concerned with what might be going on with Hunter. We walked further down the tracks until Abby ran back into the woods. I followed. In the end, Abby led me right to Hunter. His leash was tangled in some brush, and he was not able to free himself. With a little effort I was able to untangle him, and the dogs and I walked home down the tracks.
I know what you're thinking. Great story, Jim. And you tell it so well.
I did take a couple of lessons from it.
First, I was a man of limited capabilities looking for a couple of worthless dogs. I did it because they were my responsibility. They were my dogs, and I was their master. It reminded me of Christ's words in Matthew 18:12: "What do you think? If any man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go and search for the one that is straying? Or his words in John 10:28 " I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand."
I am bright enough to understand that these scriptures are talking about sheep, and I'm writing about dogs, but the truth is the same. If I, being flawed, will go to whatever lengths necessary to get my dogs home....What lengths will the Savior go to in order to get his sheep home? What lengths will he go to that he might bring me home?
We all have gone astray. We all have wandered off the tracks. We all have been lost. All of us like sheep have gone astray, Each of us has turned to his own way; But the LORD has caused the iniquity of us all To fall on Him. (Isaiah 53:6)
I will be led home, perhaps to manage my two mile stretch of the Kettle River, not because I have always been faithful, but because my Master has always been faithful to me. Not because I haven't been lost, but because the Shepherd has always found me. Not because I haven't ever been tangled in some brush somewhere off the tracks, but because the Savior refuses to leave me there.
I was also impressed with Abby. She's hyper and can be a tad annoying. But she refused to leave her brother when he was stuck in the woods. She could have left him, caught up to me and been safely in her warm kennel eating dog biscuits. She wouldn't do that. She stayed with him until I showed up, and led me to her trapped brother. In a world where, as the saying goes, "Christians tend to shoot their wounded," it was wonderful to see a dog stick with a stranded brother until he could be set free and led home.
Ah, gotta love the dogs.
I walk with them and jog with them regularly. They enjoy it, it's good exercise for all of us, and a wonderful time of prayer and meditation for me. It certainly works out for everyone involved.
One of my favorite places to walk with them is along the Kettle River. Since I grew up on that river, it has a special place in my heart. The view along the road/trail we walk on is fantastic, we don't meet many people, the dogs run freely, and it's one of my most treasured places to pray and meditate.
Occasionally, especially during a walk on a particularly beautiful day, my mind drifts to what life will be like in eternity. I am nowhere close to being an expert on the matter but, as I understand it, we believers will rule with Christ in a new heaven and new earth. Obviously, I have no idea what that will be like, and I am not sure how it will look or work out in practice. But I do imagine that river being a part of the new creation. I picture that same rough road running along it's edge. I admit to my Lord that I have no idea how responsibility will be divided when he returns to reign, but I make it clear that I would be perfectly content managing that section of the Kettle River. Perhaps I deserve less. I doubt I deserve more. But I have put in my request, and would be satisfied walking that road with my Savior in eternity. It would be nice if the dogs could walk it with us, but I am in no position to insist upon it.
Over the years I have had many dogs, and the Holy Spirit has used them all to teach me lessons. Abby and Hunter taught me one last week.
When I jog with the dogs, it's always along the same path. Down the road from our house, take a left to the railroad tracks, and then follow the tracks home. When we jog, I let them run freely when possible but I leave their leashes on in case we meet a car. I then grab the leash's until the car passes, and then they run freely again. Usually, when we get to the end of the railroad tracks the dogs are close by and will catch up to me when I call.
During this particular run, I got to the end of the tracks and called for them, but the dogs did not come. I waited awhile thinking that they would eventually show up, but they didn't. I got my car, drove around our jogging area calling for them, went back to the end of the tracks and called some more....but no sign of my dogs. I was getting concerned, especially since neither of them were showing up. I began walking back up the tracks, becoming increasingly concerned that something bad had happened, calling and scanning the woods for any sign of my puppies. I was determined not to go home without them.
About a mile up the tracks, when I yelled I thought I heard a whine in the distance. I knew it was the dogs, but I had no idea how I would find them in the thick woods. I called again and heard the same whine, this time closer. I kept walking up the tracks, trying to figure out the general area the noise was coming from when Abby came running from the woods toward me. Obviously, I was relieved that she was alright, but was still concerned with what might be going on with Hunter. We walked further down the tracks until Abby ran back into the woods. I followed. In the end, Abby led me right to Hunter. His leash was tangled in some brush, and he was not able to free himself. With a little effort I was able to untangle him, and the dogs and I walked home down the tracks.
I know what you're thinking. Great story, Jim. And you tell it so well.
I did take a couple of lessons from it.
First, I was a man of limited capabilities looking for a couple of worthless dogs. I did it because they were my responsibility. They were my dogs, and I was their master. It reminded me of Christ's words in Matthew 18:12: "What do you think? If any man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go and search for the one that is straying? Or his words in John 10:28 " I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand."
I am bright enough to understand that these scriptures are talking about sheep, and I'm writing about dogs, but the truth is the same. If I, being flawed, will go to whatever lengths necessary to get my dogs home....What lengths will the Savior go to in order to get his sheep home? What lengths will he go to that he might bring me home?
We all have gone astray. We all have wandered off the tracks. We all have been lost. All of us like sheep have gone astray, Each of us has turned to his own way; But the LORD has caused the iniquity of us all To fall on Him. (Isaiah 53:6)
I will be led home, perhaps to manage my two mile stretch of the Kettle River, not because I have always been faithful, but because my Master has always been faithful to me. Not because I haven't been lost, but because the Shepherd has always found me. Not because I haven't ever been tangled in some brush somewhere off the tracks, but because the Savior refuses to leave me there.
I was also impressed with Abby. She's hyper and can be a tad annoying. But she refused to leave her brother when he was stuck in the woods. She could have left him, caught up to me and been safely in her warm kennel eating dog biscuits. She wouldn't do that. She stayed with him until I showed up, and led me to her trapped brother. In a world where, as the saying goes, "Christians tend to shoot their wounded," it was wonderful to see a dog stick with a stranded brother until he could be set free and led home.
Ah, gotta love the dogs.
That Some Might be Saved II
I was reading in Matthew this morning but, as I tried to concentrate on the scripture, my mind was drawn again to Acts and the Apostle Paul. Specifically, my thoughts wandered to Paul becoming all things to all people in order that he might save some, as I wrote about a couple of days ago.
Try as I might to contemplate the words from Christ's sermon on the mount, which are certainly worthy of meditating on, I found myself picturing Paul wandering through the city of Athens (Acts 17). Might have been the Holy Spirit leading me there or, equally as possible, my ADHD kicking in. Either way, the thought of Paul wandering the streets of Athens, looking at the multitude of idols and the variety of alters to various gods that filled the city was stuck in my mind. So I went with it.
In the centuries prior to Paul's visit to Athens, it was considered to be a city of education and wisdom. It was a city known as a center of philosophy, architecture and art. The people inhabiting Athens were the intellectuals of the time and, to some degree, it was still true when Paul passed through. For Paul, what was meant to be a short lay over as he waited for his traveling companions becomes the place of the longest recorded sermon that we have of Paul preaching to Gentiles.
And, as would be expected. Paul does it brilliantly. As he casually strolled through the streets of the city, waiting for his friends to arrive....well scripture describes it best: "His spirit was provoked within him as he saw that the city was full of idols. Acts 17:16. I particularly like the way the Message says it: "The longer Paul waited in Athens for Silas and Timothy, the angrier he got—all those idols! The city was a junkyard of idols".
Paul's spirit was provoked within him and he became angry. As he stood among these self proclaimed scholars and arrogant philosophers, Paul was probably considered a foolish man proclaiming a foolish and worthless religion. In reality, Paul was the intellectual giant among them. Paul knew what they were thinking and how little regard they had for him. Without a doubt, he could have debated any of them to ashes on any topic. He could have shredded their religions and beliefs with relative ease. He could have ground their philosophies to nothingness without giving it much thought. At the very least, he could have impressed them with his knowledge and massaged his ego.
Paul, that he might save some, did none of the above. Paul brilliantly begins his discourse with them with a complement, “Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious." Acts 17:22 Brilliant! In his anger....in the provocation in his spirit, he could of condemned them as pagans, or he could have ridiculed them as idol worshipers. He could have proved their various gods as useless and worthless as the stones they were made from. Paul had it within him, and could have done it as easily as swatting a troublesome fly.
But he begins with a complement. He meets them where they are by mentioning one of their own alters....the alter they had erected to an unknown god. Paul then says, "Let me tell you about this unknown God." He uses that as a foundation to explain to them about the true God, and salvation there is in Christ. Absolutely beautiful.
The success is described in verse 34: " But some men joined him and believed, among whom also were Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman named Damaris and others with them."
It brings me back to: "To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some."
Perhaps the Spirit will bring me back to the sermon on the mount tomorrow, but for today it is enough.
Try as I might to contemplate the words from Christ's sermon on the mount, which are certainly worthy of meditating on, I found myself picturing Paul wandering through the city of Athens (Acts 17). Might have been the Holy Spirit leading me there or, equally as possible, my ADHD kicking in. Either way, the thought of Paul wandering the streets of Athens, looking at the multitude of idols and the variety of alters to various gods that filled the city was stuck in my mind. So I went with it.
In the centuries prior to Paul's visit to Athens, it was considered to be a city of education and wisdom. It was a city known as a center of philosophy, architecture and art. The people inhabiting Athens were the intellectuals of the time and, to some degree, it was still true when Paul passed through. For Paul, what was meant to be a short lay over as he waited for his traveling companions becomes the place of the longest recorded sermon that we have of Paul preaching to Gentiles.
And, as would be expected. Paul does it brilliantly. As he casually strolled through the streets of the city, waiting for his friends to arrive....well scripture describes it best: "His spirit was provoked within him as he saw that the city was full of idols. Acts 17:16. I particularly like the way the Message says it: "The longer Paul waited in Athens for Silas and Timothy, the angrier he got—all those idols! The city was a junkyard of idols".
Paul's spirit was provoked within him and he became angry. As he stood among these self proclaimed scholars and arrogant philosophers, Paul was probably considered a foolish man proclaiming a foolish and worthless religion. In reality, Paul was the intellectual giant among them. Paul knew what they were thinking and how little regard they had for him. Without a doubt, he could have debated any of them to ashes on any topic. He could have shredded their religions and beliefs with relative ease. He could have ground their philosophies to nothingness without giving it much thought. At the very least, he could have impressed them with his knowledge and massaged his ego.
Paul, that he might save some, did none of the above. Paul brilliantly begins his discourse with them with a complement, “Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious." Acts 17:22 Brilliant! In his anger....in the provocation in his spirit, he could of condemned them as pagans, or he could have ridiculed them as idol worshipers. He could have proved their various gods as useless and worthless as the stones they were made from. Paul had it within him, and could have done it as easily as swatting a troublesome fly.
But he begins with a complement. He meets them where they are by mentioning one of their own alters....the alter they had erected to an unknown god. Paul then says, "Let me tell you about this unknown God." He uses that as a foundation to explain to them about the true God, and salvation there is in Christ. Absolutely beautiful.
The success is described in verse 34: " But some men joined him and believed, among whom also were Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman named Damaris and others with them."
It brings me back to: "To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some."
Perhaps the Spirit will bring me back to the sermon on the mount tomorrow, but for today it is enough.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
That Some Might be Saved
As Jacquie and I were studying the book of Acts last week, we came upon a scripture that has always been a little puzzling to me. We were in chapter 21 of the book and came to verse 20. What follows in the narrative is a request from the leaders in Jerusalem for Paul to enter into what appears to be a Nazarite vow. They were requesting it in order to appease Jewish individuals among them who had become believers in Christ but still followed the law of Moses. Under a Nazarite vow the person was to abstain from alcohol, not cut his hair or go near a dead body, and when the days of the vow were completed they were to present an offering in the temple.
And Paul agreed. This man who had already written his magnificent treatise on grace to the Romans declaring that salvation is through grace alone, apart from works of the law. He had, at this point in his life, written to the Galatians strongly discouraging them from falling from the freedom of grace to works of the law. (" Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?" Galatians 3:3) He had written two letters to the Corinthians and two to the Thessalonians, all expounding a righteousness and salvation that can be found only by grace through faith in Christ.
Having preached and written extensively on the superiority of grace to the law, the complete necessity of Christ's imputed righteousness over any human effort, and strongly condemning the thought of any benefit coming from the form and ritual of the law, in my mind his actions in this chapter do not make sense. It doesn't sound like the Paul I imagine. There is no indication that Paul was shy or timid or had any doubt about his teaching. And I say that sarcastically. (" But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed." Galatians 1:8) Paul boldly and unashamedly proclaimed the Gospel of Christ and salvation by grace wherever he was and to whomever he was speaking. We see it in his actions in Acts, and we read about in his letters. He knew that it didn't make him popular with everyone, but Paul just did not care and he paid the price, "From now on let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus." (Galatians 6:17) I'm equally sure that he was not concerned about confronting the other Apostles or other leaders when he disagreed, " But when Cephas (Peter) came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. (Galatians 2:11)
So when I read that scripture in Acts as I did with my wife the other night, it just doesn't fit the perception I have of Paul. I mentioned it to her, and we finished the rest of the chapter. What I expect when the leaders made the request for him put himself under a vow, especially when it is to appease Jewish believers who still followed the law, is for Paul to stand and address them. I'm not sure what I would have him say, but it might start something like this, "Brothers, heaven forbid. Have you not listened to anything I've said...to anything I've been preaching. Do you not understand that we have been set free from the meaningless rituals and traditions of the law through the sacrifice of the Savior."
I don't know....something like that. Paul probably could have said it better. But he didn't. They said, "We think you should do this to make these people happy" and Paul said, "Sounds good."
I found myself thinking about it again yesterday during my walk and prayer time. As I considered and wondered at Paul's response, the Spirit of God gently whispered the words, "That by all means I might save some." They are, of course, words associated with Paul's writing in 1 Corinthians.
"To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though not being myself under the law) that I might win those under the law."
"To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (not being outside the law of God but under the law of Christ) that I might win those outside the law."
"To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some." (1 Corinthians 9:20-22)
That by all means I might save some. Paul could have destroyed anyone in a debate concerning the law verses grace. Scripture by scripture he could have torn them apart. Even with the Apostles and other church leaders, Paul could have proven them completely wrong in even asking him to take the vow of the Nazarite. But, rather than trying to convince them of the soundness of his theology, Paul determines to take whatever steps necessary that by any and all means he might lead some to salvation.
It's something I plan on taking into the next season of my life. As a Lutheran youth, I would argue theology with my Catholic best friend. As I young Christian, I would debate with the Calvinist's. In these last years, I've been discussing the truths of Calvinism with anyone who would listen. Mine is a developing theology, to be sure. And, while I am a fan of sound theology, in the end what's going to matter is that some might be saved.
And Paul agreed. This man who had already written his magnificent treatise on grace to the Romans declaring that salvation is through grace alone, apart from works of the law. He had, at this point in his life, written to the Galatians strongly discouraging them from falling from the freedom of grace to works of the law. (" Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?" Galatians 3:3) He had written two letters to the Corinthians and two to the Thessalonians, all expounding a righteousness and salvation that can be found only by grace through faith in Christ.
Having preached and written extensively on the superiority of grace to the law, the complete necessity of Christ's imputed righteousness over any human effort, and strongly condemning the thought of any benefit coming from the form and ritual of the law, in my mind his actions in this chapter do not make sense. It doesn't sound like the Paul I imagine. There is no indication that Paul was shy or timid or had any doubt about his teaching. And I say that sarcastically. (" But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed." Galatians 1:8) Paul boldly and unashamedly proclaimed the Gospel of Christ and salvation by grace wherever he was and to whomever he was speaking. We see it in his actions in Acts, and we read about in his letters. He knew that it didn't make him popular with everyone, but Paul just did not care and he paid the price, "From now on let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus." (Galatians 6:17) I'm equally sure that he was not concerned about confronting the other Apostles or other leaders when he disagreed, " But when Cephas (Peter) came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. (Galatians 2:11)
So when I read that scripture in Acts as I did with my wife the other night, it just doesn't fit the perception I have of Paul. I mentioned it to her, and we finished the rest of the chapter. What I expect when the leaders made the request for him put himself under a vow, especially when it is to appease Jewish believers who still followed the law, is for Paul to stand and address them. I'm not sure what I would have him say, but it might start something like this, "Brothers, heaven forbid. Have you not listened to anything I've said...to anything I've been preaching. Do you not understand that we have been set free from the meaningless rituals and traditions of the law through the sacrifice of the Savior."
I don't know....something like that. Paul probably could have said it better. But he didn't. They said, "We think you should do this to make these people happy" and Paul said, "Sounds good."
I found myself thinking about it again yesterday during my walk and prayer time. As I considered and wondered at Paul's response, the Spirit of God gently whispered the words, "That by all means I might save some." They are, of course, words associated with Paul's writing in 1 Corinthians.
"To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though not being myself under the law) that I might win those under the law."
"To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (not being outside the law of God but under the law of Christ) that I might win those outside the law."
"To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some." (1 Corinthians 9:20-22)
That by all means I might save some. Paul could have destroyed anyone in a debate concerning the law verses grace. Scripture by scripture he could have torn them apart. Even with the Apostles and other church leaders, Paul could have proven them completely wrong in even asking him to take the vow of the Nazarite. But, rather than trying to convince them of the soundness of his theology, Paul determines to take whatever steps necessary that by any and all means he might lead some to salvation.
It's something I plan on taking into the next season of my life. As a Lutheran youth, I would argue theology with my Catholic best friend. As I young Christian, I would debate with the Calvinist's. In these last years, I've been discussing the truths of Calvinism with anyone who would listen. Mine is a developing theology, to be sure. And, while I am a fan of sound theology, in the end what's going to matter is that some might be saved.
Monday, April 8, 2013
The Danger of Looking Back
To even the most casual student of the Bible, if the phrase, "Pillar of salt," is mentioned, the thought goes to the story of Lot's wife. It's a familiar one. Lot and his family are told to flee from Sodom before God, in his wrath, destroyed the city. As they were leaving Sodom, they were told not to look back at the destruction taking place behind them. Of course, Lot's wife looked back, and that's where the pillar of salt appears. Literally.
Well, I've been thinking about the fate of this woman lately and have found that there are lessons from it that can be applied to our lives even today. In reading the account in Genesis 19, two verses stand out to me.
The first is: "When they had brought them outside, one said, "Escape for your life! Do not look behind you, and do not stay anywhere in the valley; escape to the mountains, or you will be swept away." Genesis 19:17 (NASB)
The second verse is this one: "But Lot’s wife, behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt." Genesis 19:26 (ESV)
What has stood out to me is this. In the walk of the believer there are valley experiences and there are mountain top experiences. Personally, I would like to spend all of my days walking with my Father on the mountain top. In practice, however,....because of circumstances....because of sin.....because of out right rebellion....I do find myself walking in some pretty deep and long valleys. It occurs to me that, as believers, our challenge is to minimize the time in the valleys of life and to experience to the fullest the times on the mountain. Admittedly, much of our time is spent on the flat lands in between, but the valleys can be devastating.
Now, I'm not a theologian, but it seems to me Lot's wife's mistake was the looking back. Pretty profound, huh. They were told not to look back, and she looked back. Simple as that. She looked back, became a pillar of salt, and never left the valley. She never made it to the flat land. She never made it to the mountain. Pillar's of salt don't move.
While, as far as I know, this woman was the only person in history to be walking one moment and frozen as an eternal salt figurine the next. However, I would suggest that there are more than a few believers who have become spiritual pillar's of salt, perpetually stranded in one of the valleys of life. I would also suggest that they are stranded there by the same mistake made by Lot's wife. They've spent too much time looking back. Perhaps they're looking at the trail that led to the valley, regretting choosing that path. Perhaps they're dwelling on the circumstances, some of them beyond their control, that led to the decent into the valley. It could be a number of things. Being a follower of Christ does not exempt us from plunging into the valleys, but we do have a friend on the mountain gently beckoning us to join him. The key is to learn the valley lessons, remember that Christ walks with us through them, and then to plant our face toward the mountain of God. I have learned that it is much easier to move forward when I am not continually looking over my shoulder.
It is the encouragement we get from Paul in Philippians 3:13-14: "But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."
I don't like the valleys. I try to avoid them, but if I find myself traveling through one, I determine to make the trip short. I determine with everything that is in me to take the advice of the author of Hebrews and set my eyes on Jesus. It's done through prayer. It's done through the cleansing of the word. And it's done by daily bathing in the grace that was poured out on Calvary. I find that when I dwell on those things, the temptation to look back is greatly lessened, and the journey through the valley becomes a form of glory. And, when I am on the mountain and I look back at the valley, I appreciate even more the grace and mercy that brought me through.
Well, I've been thinking about the fate of this woman lately and have found that there are lessons from it that can be applied to our lives even today. In reading the account in Genesis 19, two verses stand out to me.
The first is: "When they had brought them outside, one said, "Escape for your life! Do not look behind you, and do not stay anywhere in the valley; escape to the mountains, or you will be swept away." Genesis 19:17 (NASB)
The second verse is this one: "But Lot’s wife, behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt." Genesis 19:26 (ESV)
What has stood out to me is this. In the walk of the believer there are valley experiences and there are mountain top experiences. Personally, I would like to spend all of my days walking with my Father on the mountain top. In practice, however,....because of circumstances....because of sin.....because of out right rebellion....I do find myself walking in some pretty deep and long valleys. It occurs to me that, as believers, our challenge is to minimize the time in the valleys of life and to experience to the fullest the times on the mountain. Admittedly, much of our time is spent on the flat lands in between, but the valleys can be devastating.
Now, I'm not a theologian, but it seems to me Lot's wife's mistake was the looking back. Pretty profound, huh. They were told not to look back, and she looked back. Simple as that. She looked back, became a pillar of salt, and never left the valley. She never made it to the flat land. She never made it to the mountain. Pillar's of salt don't move.
While, as far as I know, this woman was the only person in history to be walking one moment and frozen as an eternal salt figurine the next. However, I would suggest that there are more than a few believers who have become spiritual pillar's of salt, perpetually stranded in one of the valleys of life. I would also suggest that they are stranded there by the same mistake made by Lot's wife. They've spent too much time looking back. Perhaps they're looking at the trail that led to the valley, regretting choosing that path. Perhaps they're dwelling on the circumstances, some of them beyond their control, that led to the decent into the valley. It could be a number of things. Being a follower of Christ does not exempt us from plunging into the valleys, but we do have a friend on the mountain gently beckoning us to join him. The key is to learn the valley lessons, remember that Christ walks with us through them, and then to plant our face toward the mountain of God. I have learned that it is much easier to move forward when I am not continually looking over my shoulder.
It is the encouragement we get from Paul in Philippians 3:13-14: "But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."
I don't like the valleys. I try to avoid them, but if I find myself traveling through one, I determine to make the trip short. I determine with everything that is in me to take the advice of the author of Hebrews and set my eyes on Jesus. It's done through prayer. It's done through the cleansing of the word. And it's done by daily bathing in the grace that was poured out on Calvary. I find that when I dwell on those things, the temptation to look back is greatly lessened, and the journey through the valley becomes a form of glory. And, when I am on the mountain and I look back at the valley, I appreciate even more the grace and mercy that brought me through.
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