I try, best I can, to be candid about my lack of piety (at least with you the reader, if not truly with myself). I'm not as diligent as I "should" be about reading my Bible...my prayer time is often the few minutes I can focus on the Lord as I drive to work (or the even fewer minutes I can steal away from my cell phone as I run between appointments throughout the work day). Yet I am continually surprised, regardless of my commitment, by how committed the Lord remains to me.
This morning my wife and her mom took our infant son and my daughter (the oldest) with her on a trip to Richmond for the weekend. I'm left with the two boys (three and five) to brave the elements together -- a boy's weekend! As they build a fort out of the pillows from the family room couch, I'm also left with more free time on a Saturday morning than I'm usually afforded...and as I try to steer them away from the television, I find myself unable to break my own rules by preparing for the college football day with ESPN - what better time to crack open the Good Book?
On a hunch I went to our church's website to find today's reading - for those who are better committed - in the "read the bible in a year" plan. The first, and longest, recommendation comes from Isaiah chapters 48 through 50. While I am no scholar, I was deeply struck by warnings like, "I will feed those who oppress you with their own flesh, And they shall be drunk with their own blood as with sweet wine (Isaiah 49:26)." I'm sure these can be applied directly to Israel's historical enemies...but isn't it poignant that the Lord's warning is that we will feast upon ourselves...and find the feast sweet? Grotesque but perfectly on target, for me at least. Even today, this morning, left to my own designs, how easily can I look inward...how readily can I be lured to my own lustful desires that offer the promise of life, but only result in sluggish destruction? (Particularly with no good wife to reign me in.)
Contrast that with today's corresponding verse in Ephesians 4:17-24. The Message calls this "The Old Way Has to Go," but for once my wife's New King James speaks more clearly to my heart when titles this section "The New Man:"
"This I say...that you should no longer walk as the rest of [them] walk, in the futility of their mind...alienated from the life of God...because of the blindness of their heart; who, being past feeling, have given themselves over to lewdness, to work all uncleanness with greediness...that you put off, concerning your former conduct, the old man which grows corrupt according to the deceitful lusts, and be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and that you put on the new man which was created according to God, in true righteousness and holiness."
Oh that I could keep my heart from being blind! And to whom is Paul speaking but to me, to us, to the church!? He doesn't assume that we are living as "new men" but that we need to be encouraged to do so. That we are ABLE to do so! He recognizes - God recognizes - that we all too readily feast on our own flesh even as we sit at the foot of His table...and so He takes the time to remind us NOT that we are messing up, but that we are CAPABLE of so much more. That we don't need to look at the feast He has prepared - the desires and promises He offers us - and yet settle for the hyphenated and false desires that would have us drinking our own sweet wine.
He has better wine for us.
He is faithful to invite me into the new life He promises; inviting me to be the new man He knows and loves. Does He blame me for my blindness? Or does He rather understand and shine a light...even offering me new eyes AND a new heart?
Maybe there is more to this "read the Bible every day" thing than just duty and obligation after all. I think I'd like some more of this...
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Accountable for Parables
A few weeks back I spent some time thinking through (and writing about) the invitation to participate that is inherent in parables. Christ is asked a question. Christ answers with a story. The "asker" must apply himself (or is invited to apply himself) to the question of "what in this story addresses my question...answers my need?"
Last week I was able to listen to a good friend of mine as he presented a message entitled, "The Restoration of Masculine Sexuality" to a men's group. It’s interesting to be in that room as a variety of men struggle to interpret and apply a heady message such as that. I can guess, with 25 some-odd men listening, that circumstances ran across the spectrum from "in desperate need of rescue" to "casually interested but in fairly good shape," and all points in between.
My friend is a huge fan of film. He even refers to movies as "modern parables." And I agree. During his presentation he showed several clips, not as illustrations of a point, but as launching platforms for new perspectives on masculinity, on rescue, on beauty. I spent the 90 minute presentation both drawn into his material and separately observant of the other men in the room. For the most part they seemed stalwart - hopefully intent on absorbing information to the exclusion of interacting, but perhaps in some ways opposed to what they were hearing (I've gotten encouraging reports since the event that lead me toward the former, by the way).
As we watched these clips together, the men and I, and listened to my friend invite us all into a deeper understanding of God the Father's hope for our lives as men, I began to realize another aspect of parables that has intrigued me in the days since. I've already pointed to the parable as an invitation - but I hadn't realized, until now, how strikingly accountable we are each forced to become for our own response.
I don't want this to become confused with some kind of invitation to the altar or anything. I've come to new terms with this idea of "once and for all," you can be sure. I mean to say that I’ve learned to differentiate the start of a journey from the journey itself. You can certainly start on a journey "once" but if your time ever after is spent simply re-starting, you aren't really journeying at all. But I digress...
Isn't it amazing, back to my point, how the process of extending an invitation shifts the weight of accountability fully to the invitee? If I explain things in detail, step-by-step, through process, I seem to have mounting accountability for the transfer of my explanation to my listener. I can check - test, even - to see if the information is understood and assimilated. But when I invite someone to participate, through a film clip or a story...a parable, I am only responsible for the invitation - the remaining onus ("what do I make of this?" "why is this important?") rests squarely on the hearer...the seeker, so to speak.
I suppose this idea intrigues me most because, whether writing or speaking, I feel a burden to translate my ideas in a relevant way that impacts those who will listen. To begin to acknowledge where my responsibility might end in this regard is a powerful concept for me. Many people I know, pastors, part-time speakers, teachers, often get caught in a performance struggle: "Did I say that right?" "Did I make the best case?" And I'll often hear people settle back to a hoped-for truth that "God will make what He wants from it" as they seek to lay that responsibility down.
I'm beginning to pick away at the inkling of an idea that this responsibility was never really mine to take up.
Last week I was able to listen to a good friend of mine as he presented a message entitled, "The Restoration of Masculine Sexuality" to a men's group. It’s interesting to be in that room as a variety of men struggle to interpret and apply a heady message such as that. I can guess, with 25 some-odd men listening, that circumstances ran across the spectrum from "in desperate need of rescue" to "casually interested but in fairly good shape," and all points in between.
My friend is a huge fan of film. He even refers to movies as "modern parables." And I agree. During his presentation he showed several clips, not as illustrations of a point, but as launching platforms for new perspectives on masculinity, on rescue, on beauty. I spent the 90 minute presentation both drawn into his material and separately observant of the other men in the room. For the most part they seemed stalwart - hopefully intent on absorbing information to the exclusion of interacting, but perhaps in some ways opposed to what they were hearing (I've gotten encouraging reports since the event that lead me toward the former, by the way).
As we watched these clips together, the men and I, and listened to my friend invite us all into a deeper understanding of God the Father's hope for our lives as men, I began to realize another aspect of parables that has intrigued me in the days since. I've already pointed to the parable as an invitation - but I hadn't realized, until now, how strikingly accountable we are each forced to become for our own response.
I don't want this to become confused with some kind of invitation to the altar or anything. I've come to new terms with this idea of "once and for all," you can be sure. I mean to say that I’ve learned to differentiate the start of a journey from the journey itself. You can certainly start on a journey "once" but if your time ever after is spent simply re-starting, you aren't really journeying at all. But I digress...
Isn't it amazing, back to my point, how the process of extending an invitation shifts the weight of accountability fully to the invitee? If I explain things in detail, step-by-step, through process, I seem to have mounting accountability for the transfer of my explanation to my listener. I can check - test, even - to see if the information is understood and assimilated. But when I invite someone to participate, through a film clip or a story...a parable, I am only responsible for the invitation - the remaining onus ("what do I make of this?" "why is this important?") rests squarely on the hearer...the seeker, so to speak.
I suppose this idea intrigues me most because, whether writing or speaking, I feel a burden to translate my ideas in a relevant way that impacts those who will listen. To begin to acknowledge where my responsibility might end in this regard is a powerful concept for me. Many people I know, pastors, part-time speakers, teachers, often get caught in a performance struggle: "Did I say that right?" "Did I make the best case?" And I'll often hear people settle back to a hoped-for truth that "God will make what He wants from it" as they seek to lay that responsibility down.
I'm beginning to pick away at the inkling of an idea that this responsibility was never really mine to take up.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Risk Affirmed
I've had an interesting 10-14 days. Remarkable, in some regards. Trying in others. I live in a constant state of risk/reward - its the life of sales, I suppose...but it is somehow still true in my walk, as well.
Saturday before last I had the opportunity to speak at my church's Men's Breakfast. I hoped to present some avenue of insight into my personal story and preview a concept that will be revisited this coming weekend as we tackle the topic of sex and the lies we believe from the enemy about our own desires. While sex and lust are far more compelling topics for men, I hoped to reveal the same subject matter -- the lies of the enemy -- in a different facet.
In my life I've wrestled quite a bit, life-long I suppose, with ego and validation and pursuit versus loss. Risk/reward. I've come to understand that one tactic of the enemy is to point to my victories, particularly those in pursuit of kingdom goals, and whisper a lie into my ear: "Its all about me."
What's remarkable about kingdom living is how God works to heal wounds...even when we are trying to reveal His truth in the midst of those wounds. That sounds difficult, so I'll explain: I was preparing to expose myself in a venue to discuss my "ego issues" -- a position that lends itself exactly to the "ego issues" which I hoped to describe!
So, preparing to talk with some candor also lent itself to feeling a need for affirmation, validation, and...well...a stroke or two of the old ego! What I found is that God provided me respite and prepared my heart through good friends and men around me, timely reminders of His desire to delight in our achievements (and His invitation to enjoy that delight) and, even more remarkably, a sense of peace and the chance to rest.
Resting is not something I do very well.
It is through that growing peace...with myself and my role in God's economy, that I feel called to share that talk (for those who care to listen) without carrying quite the same burden I have in the past for any accolades...or more specifically any lack thereof. If you have 33 minutes and 50 seconds to spare, please feel free to listen to the story I shared about the loss of my daughter, the writing of a play, and the crushing lie of the enemy in my life.
UPDATE: Player stopped working at some point so please use the link below...
Clicking on this link will take you to a 4shared.com page where you can listen on an embedded player...or I think you can download and even rip/burn/whatever a copy of the MP3 here: 4shared.com link. Happy listening!
Saturday before last I had the opportunity to speak at my church's Men's Breakfast. I hoped to present some avenue of insight into my personal story and preview a concept that will be revisited this coming weekend as we tackle the topic of sex and the lies we believe from the enemy about our own desires. While sex and lust are far more compelling topics for men, I hoped to reveal the same subject matter -- the lies of the enemy -- in a different facet.
In my life I've wrestled quite a bit, life-long I suppose, with ego and validation and pursuit versus loss. Risk/reward. I've come to understand that one tactic of the enemy is to point to my victories, particularly those in pursuit of kingdom goals, and whisper a lie into my ear: "Its all about me."
What's remarkable about kingdom living is how God works to heal wounds...even when we are trying to reveal His truth in the midst of those wounds. That sounds difficult, so I'll explain: I was preparing to expose myself in a venue to discuss my "ego issues" -- a position that lends itself exactly to the "ego issues" which I hoped to describe!
So, preparing to talk with some candor also lent itself to feeling a need for affirmation, validation, and...well...a stroke or two of the old ego! What I found is that God provided me respite and prepared my heart through good friends and men around me, timely reminders of His desire to delight in our achievements (and His invitation to enjoy that delight) and, even more remarkably, a sense of peace and the chance to rest.
Resting is not something I do very well.
It is through that growing peace...with myself and my role in God's economy, that I feel called to share that talk (for those who care to listen) without carrying quite the same burden I have in the past for any accolades...or more specifically any lack thereof. If you have 33 minutes and 50 seconds to spare, please feel free to listen to the story I shared about the loss of my daughter, the writing of a play, and the crushing lie of the enemy in my life.
UPDATE: Player stopped working at some point so please use the link below...
Clicking on this link will take you to a 4shared.com page where you can listen on an embedded player...or I think you can download and even rip/burn/whatever a copy of the MP3 here: 4shared.com link. Happy listening!
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