Mudshot Eyes

2 years.

Loving.

Growing.

Believing.

Trusting.

Forgiving.

Praying.

Being

One.

Ah, yes… the Holy Bible. The very mention of it stirs up a wide variety of responses. Some think of archaic language and dust-covered black leather, a book for another time. It’s an irrelevant set of religious writings that have some good advice, but no significant value for today.

Others remember their Sunday School classes from their younger days, growing up in church.  Memories involve the great stories of the Bible such as David versus Goliath, Noah’s Ark, and the life of Jesus.

What rarely comes to mind are the stories of betrayal, sex, violence, and intrigue.  It’s a dynamic book, “inspired by God,” as 2 Timothy says.  The Greek word for inspired is theopneustos, or “God-breathed.” Depending on our view of God’s character, it may be surprising that such scandalous topics are breathed-out from God. Doesn’t God want us to avoid stories that involve sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll? Apparently not.

At no point in the Bible do we ever find that a topic is being avoided. No issue is off-limits. The reason? Nothing is off-limits to a God who refuses to be separated from the real experiences and emotions of life.  Whether it be an addiction, strain in a relationship, or worry over a big decision, God is habitually getting his hands dirty to plant transformation and hope within our mess. The first four books of the New Testament chronicle this very characteristic, seen in the life of Jesus.  Those stories were about real people with complex problems who were touched by a loving, interested Savior.

Now that I think of it that way, it’s nice to know that I could have been a Bible story, too.

Today’s post is by guest blogger Krista Barmer, a brilliant writer who happens to be my wife.

“You are the anti-curse. Death going in reverse.” ~ Derek Webb

There’s an Asian woman who walks around our apartment complex when the weather is nice, like it was today, this first full day of Spring. In front of her, she pushes a gadgety black wheelchair that carries her son. I’ve studied them many times from my driver’s seat, slowing to a near stop to respectfully pass them. I studied them today.

His face, as always, was blank with retardation. Drool traced the line of his jaw and had dripped onto his t-shirt. He sat slouched, his tall and robust body curved like an S, his legs dangling just off the footrests. He could be my age, or close to it. And, if he was, he might be a writer or a singer or reader who would cross my path and we would chat for a minute about Steinbeck or Billy Collins or Sting’s Labyrinth at the local bookstore while waiting in line on our tea and coffee. But, we won’t; he only has the mind of an infant.

And she, mom, stands barely five feet tall. With all her petite strength, she pushed this hulking, dead-weight child: her lower back arched, shoulder blades pinched, knuckles white, palms wet. Her leg muscles contracted with definition. But it’s her face that told the stories. Too many stories. Determination has formed her jawline. Courage and constance have carved her cheekbones. Tenacious-ness has lined her brow. And some kind of longing I don’t understand now (and maybe never will) has colored and crowded her eyes.

I watched them today, this holy & good Friday, a day to remember necessary death and imperishable sacrifice, lifesaving atonement and finished work, a broken Saviour, a satisfied Father. I watched this mother and her son and asked, “Why?” knowing full well it was the wrong question. Knowing full well that it was good to grieve this loss because He has wept all our tears with us. Knowing that where there is death and veil and mess, life and fullness and beauty lie in wait. They wait for the third day. And for the anti-curse.

(This article first appeared at Pendrops, Krista’s blog)

From a beam in the Guinness Storehouse in Dublin.

“No one else can paint your portrait from an unobstructed view.”
- J.J. Heller, singer and songwriter

You will never come in contact with anyone who will completely accept you and approve of everything you do. This universal truth seems simple enough, but there is an inner drive within each of us to be accepted by other people and to have them approve of our actions.

A few months ago, I was given the opportunity to share with a person I’ll refer to as “Tom.” I have a lot of respect for Tom, so I mentioned an idea that I was thinking of pursuing, which I thought would be well-aligned with my gifts and strengths. I don’t believe that he meant any harm by his response, but he basically said that I shouldn’t expect much to come from it and that I should not quit my day job.

Picture a balloon losing its air through a poorly tied knot; that was me at that moment.

His intent was probably to help me stay grounded in reality, since I tend to be a dreamer, so to some extent I can understand his comments. However, what I had hoped to hear was the applause of approval from him, saying that I should go for it and that I had what it took to do it.

Every one of us has been in a situation where we were disappointed after sharing an idea or a lifestyle choice with someone we respect, and hearing less than the applause we had hoped for. This doesn’t mean that we never seek advice from others, especially those who have had more years of experience, but there is a vast difference between seeking advice, and seeking approval.

The real issue for me regarding my conversation with Tom was not his comments but how much stock I had put in them. I gave them more value than they were worth. Tom does not have all the the information needed to see my life with an “unobstructed view.” Only God can do that, so it is important that I don’t give divine-like significance to anyone else’s opinion, no matter how good of a person they are.

Does this mean that God won’t use others to speak to us about where he is leading us? Certainly not. But it does mean that we need to know the essential difference between the voice of God, who already approves of us in Christ, and the applause of other people, who can mislead even with the best of intentions.

Our pastor preached a message on the first 12 verses of 2 Thessalonians this morning, but I couldn’t get past verse 3.

We ought always to give thanks to God for you, brothers, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly…

The phrase that keeps jumping out at me is that their faith was “growing abundantly.” Beyond being a nice, Bible-worthy phrase, what did this tell us about these people?

It may mean that they were counting on God for more and more. There was a growing understanding that God was active and responsive to their needs. They were also increasingly aware that God would infuse their lives with purpose and that he would be the author and initiator of all kinds of good when they participate with his purposes.

I’m thinking through whether or not my faith has had this kind of steady increase lately. If God leads us to take a huge step in a different direction than we are currently headed, would I be ready? Fortunately, God typically asks us to count on him for one step at a time. So a journey of faith consists of many smaller faith-acts along the way.

In that case, could it be that God sometimes keeps the final destination unclear so that our faith can grow with each step?

Sounds like something God would do.

On any given weekend, Krista and I will be out on a date and she will hear those fateful words: “I’m taking a shortcut.” Unfortunately, my shortcuts aren’t always short, and sometimes they require a complete U-turn to retrace my steps.

However, the reason I know a few shortcuts is because I can’t stand an untraveled path for very long. At some point, my curiosity gets the best of me and I have to see where a road leads. I cannot quiet this voice inside which tells me to “see what is out there” and to “try something new.” Sometimes I don’t discover much, and other times I find that the road less traveled is the one most worth taking.

Like anything we want to excel in, it takes time to develop a curiosity that is strong enough to withstand the cynics who play it safe and want others to do the same. Seth Godin, a marketing guru, has made a living on his curiosity as he perpetually looks for new ways of speaking, doing, and thinking. Godin says that learning to explore new paths is a “5 or 10 or 15 year process where people start finding their voice, and they start realizing that the safest thing they can do feels risky, and the riskiest thing they can do is play it safe.”

Enjoy this short video where Godin discusses the significance of curiosity, starting with a profound contrast with fundamentalism.

The video was produced by Nic Askew. Also see Seth Godin’s blog. If you want to check out Godin’s books, I recommend starting with Purple Cow.

Readers of this blog are going to have to find their history fix elsewhere. Though I enjoy reading about history, I have discovered that writing about it succinctly is like trying to describe occupants of a moving train while I’m still in the station. So I’m bailing on my attempt to write about four key historical figures in church history. I’m sure none of us will loose any sleep.

Why did I bring this up in the first place? My original motivation for writing about church history was twofold.

First of all, without an understanding of our history, we forfeit lifetimes of experience that could guide us today. Where would we be without the grueling theological discussions that took place at the Council of Nicea in 325 AD? While Christianity was rapidly expanding only a couple hundred years after Jesus’ death and resurrection, there was a controversy stirring regarding the question of whether or not Jesus was divine. Around 300 bishops from every part of Christendom gathered for a discussion that would provide important theological direction for all believers.

Of course, we continue to discuss and interpret Scripture, but we have the benefit of some important and difficult theological discussions that have already taken place. If you ever doubt that events like the Council of Nicea had implications for all future followers of Christ, then read through the Nicene Creed and consider the fact that most evangelical church congregations today would say it matches what they believe.

Second, the road the church is on now was paved by those who have gone before us. This unfortunately includes the errors and misjudgments of the Church, but also those who have listened to the voice of God’s leadership and have exemplified what it means to follow Christ.

For example, in 1865, William and Catherine Booth started a ministry called The Christian Revival Society in the East End of London. They served the neediest members of society, including alcoholics, criminals and prostitutes. Booth was often derided for his ministry of soup kitchens and Bible teaching, but he was determined that God had given him a vision to feed bread to the poor if he was ever to feed them the gospel.

Booth’s ministry, The Salvation Army, is currently one of the world’s largest providers of social aid. They spent around $2.6 billion in 2004 helping more than 32 million people in the US alone. They operate community centers, provide disaster relief, and work in refugee camps, especially among displaced people in Africa.

Booth followed Christ toward the poor by showing then telling them the gospel. He is one of the many who paved the way for our growing emphasis in the church on a whole-person gospel.

In some way, the members of every generation of Christ-followers are pioneers. Since God is always doing something new, we are pioneers with God.

However, it’s important to realize that we are linked with every previous generation of pioneering believers. We have their achievements, their mistakes, and their words to guide us, to inspire us, to awaken us. We stand on their shoulders and would do well to be aware and thankful for their Christ-centered labor. But above all, we share with them a universal need that can only be satisfied by God’s mercy and grace.

“As I ‘roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart,’ all my lack was laid before you.”
- Augustine, from The Confessions of Augustine

When I think of the great saints of early church history, I rarely imagine a person who was perplexed with the meaning of life. The tendency is to assume that the great saints throughout time were spouting brilliant answers from the time they were kids. The life of Saint Augustine clashes with that stereotype.

Augustine committed his life to Christ after a long road of searching. Through the teachings of the Bishop of Milan, Ambrose, Augustine began to appreciate and understand Christianity, which led to his dramatic conversion in 386.

Before reaching this pivotal moment in his life, Augustine spent his younger years on sensual pleasures, while also developing a thirst for wisdom and truth. He dove into philosophy and an intense study of rhetoric, which sharpened his reasoning abilities. The one problem that continually disturbed him is also one that has plagued me ever since I began to think for myself: the problem of moral evil. Why would a good God allow evil into the good world he created?

Augustine’s willingness to dive head first into this difficult question has always inspired me to never turn from the things I can’t completely explain or understand. Along with the courage that I discovered through Augustine’s journey, I have also found faith. Consider these two passages from Confessions:

For if [God made me], how is it I will to do evil and bypass the good, and so earn punishment for myself? Who gave me this will? Who planted this seed of bitterness in me when all I am is what God made me, and he is Sweetness itself?

These questions are followed by more of the same, where he questions how evil could possibly exist if God is perfectly good and can prevent it. Then, without finding a definite answer that completely satisfied his questioning, he speaks of the role of faith in this philosophical struggle:

Yet in my heart I still clung to faith in Christ our Lord and Savior, as the church trained me to do. I was not clear on many points and was unsound on others, but my mind didn’t entirely let faith go; rather, I kept drinking in more and more day by day.**

This increasing consumption of faith has become my answer to the most vexing theological questions. There are plenty of philosophers who can offer an explanation for the problem of evil that falls just shy of satisfying the difficulty. However, my greatest need is not for explanation, even though there is some benefit to that attempt. My greatest need is to yield: to God’s embrace, to God’s wisdom, and to God’s sufficiency.

**I highly recommend reading Augustine’s Confessions, especially the out-of-print translation by Sherwood E. Writ from which the above quotes came. It’s very readable, and his use of language brings out a very personal feel that was probably obvious to the original readers in Latin. Here’s a link to a used copy I found on at Amazon.

History is crucial for understanding not only the life of Jesus, but also the entire biblical message. A good deal of the Old Testament is historical narrative. The Bible tells the story of God’s revelation in the life and history of the people of God. Without that story, it is impossible to know that revelation.

- from The Story of Christianity, by Justo L. González

The history of the church isn’t much different than our lives. Its story is made up of people who regularly made horrible mistakes, got depressed, doubted God, and found every way under the sun to misrepresent the love of God. However, these same people had big dreams and they discovered redemption through their frailty and faith as they met Christ.

We have a lot in common with those who have gone before us.

Over the next few posts, I’m going to highlight five interesting and influential Christian thinkers from throughout the history of the church. This is not intended to be a list of the 5 most influential people. I have simply chosen to highlight five persons in church history who have intrigued me and inspired me:

- Saint Augustine
- Saint Anselm
- Thomas Aquinas
- Martin Luther
- Saint Teresa of Avila