90 Minutes to Princess Leia buns

Commentary at the end.

Supplies
6mm/J hook
brown yarn, worsted weight
fiber fill
needle

Headband as base--30 min
Make foundation chain of 10 (or a multiple of 3 ch plus an extra 1 ch)

FOUNDATION ROW: 4 ch (counts as 1 dc and 1 ch), *skip 2 ch, (1 dc, 1 ch, 1 dc) all into next ch; repeat from * to end

ROW 1: 4 ch (counts as 1 dc and 1 ch), 1 dc into ch sp between first 2 dc, *(1 dc, 1 ch, 1 dc) into ch sp between next 2 dc; rep from * to end.

Repeat until length is ~1.5" or ~4cm less than circumference of the head.

sc ends together to form a band. Tie off and leave a 10"/25cm tail.

Bun--30 min each
Each bun is formed by making a tube, which is filled with fiber fill to make a snake, which is then wound to make a bun.

Start with 4 foundation single crochet, 1ch

sc in a circle down one side of the foundation single crochet, 1 sc in the end, sc down the other side of the foundation single crochets (should be 9 stitches).

Continue in a spiral with sc into every stitch which will form a tube. Every 2"/5cm add some fiber fill loosely. Continue until snake forms bun of desired size.  My snakes were 10"/25cm long.

Snake tails are formed by adding a decreases: 2 sc together, every 4 sts until the point comes together. Tie off and leave 10"/25cm tail.

Putting it together
Roll snake into a bun with the tail on the outside. Using a yarn needle and the extra yarn at the end of each tail, sew the tail down. Pass the needle and yarn through the fiber fill to the inside of the roll. Run the needle in and out anchoring the inner rolls of the snake to one another. Tie off and trim excess. Repeat with other snake.  

Lay the band seam out (not against the head), and place one bun over seam. Using the left over yarn from tying off the band, anchor the bun to the band in 3-4 places that are not all in a straightline.

Repeat with other bun using a 12-14"/30-35cm piece of yarn. Done.

COMMENTARY--generalization and optimizations
So this project needed buns and something to attach the buns to it. The buns get kind of big and heavy. So any kind of headband would work, ie a simple band made of sc or dc rows. But I recommend a width of 4"/10cm. I also recommend that it be fairly snug which is why I recommend measuring the head and subtracting length to account for the stretch in the yarn. Even more stable would be a beanie and there are many patterns available for that.

Because I was aiming for speed I used a large hook. The tradeoff is that the fiber fill peaks through the holes in the buns. A smaller hook would produce a tighter weave that would keep the fiber fill in better.

All in all a fun simple project for a last minute Halloween addition.

Not too weak (or whiny) for God

Last week, my devotional presented an odd passage from Judges 6. I say odd only because I don't venture off to read Judges much. Zepheniah might be less read, but only just.

But I have been totally captivated by this little interchange.

The set up is this: Moses walked the people of the Israel around the wilderness for 40 years; Joshua leads them in victory to the promised land flowing with milk and honey. But after Joshua dies, generations pass, and no one remembers what God has done and they start doing their own thing. So during this time of the judges, the people of God run amok; God sends them a judge to deliver them; they run amok; God sends them a judge to deliver them. Rinse and repeat OVER and OVER. Here we're reading the calling of the next judge, Gideon.

12 When the angel of the Lord appeared to Gideon, he said, “The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.”
13 “Pardon me, my lord,” Gideon replied, “but if the Lord is with us, why has all this happened to us? Where are all his wonders that our ancestors told us about when they said, ‘Did not the Lord bring us up out of Egypt?’ But now the Lord has abandoned us and given us into the hand of Midian.”
14 The Lord turned to him and said, “Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian’s hand. Am I not sending you?”
15 “Pardon me, my lord,” Gideon replied, “but how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.”
16 The Lord answered, “I will be with you, and you will strike down all the Midianites, leaving none alive.” ~Judges 6

I love that in 13, after the angel calls him a "mighty warrior", Gideon starts off with a "pardon me". I don't know if this is what the translators intended, but I'm picturing a 17 year old, sunk-chested nerd.  In other words, not a mighty warrior.

But what I could hug him for is the next line, "...but if the Lord is with us, why has all this happened to us?" It's stuff like this that makes the Bible stand out as literature over the millennia. I had an old teacher who liked to quote Ezra Pound saying, "Great literature is news that stays news." Through the ages, who hasn't felt this way in times of trouble?

Gideon, if you read the opening of the chapter, is threshing wheat. But instead of doing it in the open, he's hiding in a wine press. The bad guys, the Midianites, have taken over the land to the extent that crops are being destroyed and people of God are living in caves. Gideon can be forgiven for his incredulity. Everything in his experience points to being abandoned by God. Wherever God is, He's not with them.

And the response is equally awesome. We find out a few verses later that Gideon's own dad has set up altars for several other (non)gods. The one, true God could have played His own abandonment card. It's not like His people were being faithful to him. Instead, Gideon is commissioned and affirmed in 14.

But nerd boy won't have any of it. God says, "Go in the strength you have...," and Gideon answers, "What strength?" Gideon has a very clear picture of his circumstances--he is personally weak, his family is weak, his nation is weak. There is no defeating Midian; it's not happening.

The reality of Gideon's circumstance does not, however, phase God. The God equation in 16 is "I will be with you, and you will strike down all the Midianites, leaving none alive." It's as if it would take a thousand pounds to crush Midian, and Gideon's got a toy hammer. But God does not care because He's going to bring a monster truck to the party.  All Gideon has to do is get in the cab and put the hammer in the glove box.

I love this story of what I imagine to be a pimply, weakling having a very unheroic discussion with God. We live in a culture at-large and a church culture of strength and success. But weakness is common, and here we see that it isn't off-putting to God.

Tough times

This past month's hiatus was intentional. We have been navigating a painful family crisis, and internet space wasn't where I planned to process anything. We're out of the acute, immediate, fighting for each day phase, but unwinding all this will take a while.

So here are some general reflections on the past month:

1. Choosing to not hide allowed us to experience a lot of love and grace from many directions.
2. I did not always know what I needed, but I was needy.
3. The crisis was big enough to be clearly not fixable, and this was freeing.
4. When the abiding presence of a loving God was all I could hold on to, it was enough.

A little crazy: a confession

We're in the middle of a heavy cycle of needing to replace worn out, broken things in our house. After such a long time of making things last and stretch and saving up for the day when that old item will just have to be replaced, having new things is actually a harder transition than I thought it would be.

This weekend we got a new stove. I think the last time I encountered a new stove I was 17; it was my mom's new kitchen in a new house that I was about to move out of--and I didn't cook. My whole adult life I've been making do with whatever the apartment/house came with. And it's been fine. I think I like used things or I'm at least very comfortable with them. I'm not sure what freaks me out more; the shiny newness of the oven, the fact that it works so well, or that it's stainless steel.

I'm definitely still in the "whoa, it might get a scratch" phase. I'm completely unprepared for how fast the oven pre-heats and how quickly the water boils/onions burn. And I completely pooh-poohed the whole stainless steel fad, but this model only came in that finish. But I take solace that it's more stainless steel trim with a black top and oven door; black being the color I originally wanted.

In other words, I'm a little crazy and messed up in the head.

New feels like a very different mindset from used. We upgraded our couch this summer by buying our friends' leather couch. Love the couch, love remembering visits with said friends, love that we didn't pay full price for it, and love that it came pre-loved so I don't worry so much when I see my kids launching themselves over it. The couch slid into our lives seamlessly (after the guys huffed it into place).

The oven seems different. Maybe because we were never expecting to replace it. We know our water heater and HVAC are getting extras years through careful maintenance. We know our cars are getting long in the tooth, but our oven? I feel surprised, but I shouldn't be. The death sentence was pronounced in July but with our hot summers, we postponed the purchase just using the grill outside. It's not baking season. So I really had plenty of time to prepare for a new stove.

I think part of me just can't let go of the immigrants' daughter, poor grad student life. The oven just seems too fancy and functional for little ole me. And for that matter so does the leather couch, but at least I know the secret story that it's a hand-me-down.

Ah well, I'll give my little crazy self a hug and get on with jet boiling, stir frying, and convection baking till the cows come home.

On fire for Jesus, burning bush edition

Flame On: Burning Bush

This week I've been reading in Exodus and one verse has stuck with me throughout the week.

There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up. So Moses thought, “I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up." ~Exodus 3:2-3

Here's are the thoughts I've had:

First, apparently bushes on fire are not interesting. Good to know. BUT bushes on fire that aren't being destroyed? Very interesting and worth closer inspection.

Second, if we step back and look at this symbolically, what got Moses' attention was a situation that should have caused destruction didn't. When I think about lives of Christians that have impressed me, I see a common thread of surviving and even thriving despite cruelly destructive pressures--illness, death, injustice, betrayal, etc. Like Moses' burning bush, this is a strange sight and I've got to know what's going on.

Third, if we step back yet again, most of us don't want to be on fire for Jesus this way. When on fire of Jesus means being enthusiastic, "passionate", or pumped, we're ok with that. We question ourselves when our feelings aren't dramatic. Dramatic feelings are good! we think. If being on fire for Jesus means appearing to be caught in a life threatening situation that should, absent a miracle, consume us, we're all ready to check out. I know I am.

On fire for Jesus as an emotional ploy seems like something we can manufacture with enough bass, hand waving, and repeated lyrics. MOAR COWBELL!! On fire for Jesus as a supernatural consuming but not-consumed event--that is outside of ourselves. That is something else. And whatever it is, like Moses' burning bush it is a strange yet attractive sight. I think we need more of Moses' burning bush.

**
Paper cut by Isaac Brynjegard-Bialik

The slow grace of listening

One of the most difficult things about this summer has been the addition of several appointments a week to the schedule as well as a new membership to the YMCA. The appointments we just had to be at. The Y, well, since we're paying, we'd better go. And all of a sudden, our lives were hurried in a way that we usually haven't been.

Other people have written about this, I'm sure, but I think hurry lives on the opposite end of grace. And I particularly believe this when I think about the power of unhurried listening. This week I had a conversation with an old friend and gifted listener. It's not that he never said anything, in fact, he talked a lot. But he listened, and he asked follow up questions that were insightful and demonstrated loving care without having to say, "I lovingly care for you." And some of those follow up questions skipped back two or three topics because he had been listening with his heart and attuned to the Spirit.

The slow grace of listening is gracious precisely because listening can only occur with the investment of time. When we listen, we are handing over precious moments of our lives to another person. And when we listen, we embody the message that this other person's life, thoughts, and interests matter. Whatever would count as the spiritual opposite of fastfood and facebook, that's what listening is.

Listening is something anyone, believer or non-believer, can do. But listeners who walk in the Christ life have a bonus resource. First, we can ask for supernatural discernment to hear the heart behind the words. And second, we can ask for supernatural guidance for how and when to respond.

This world is all about love. I love chocolate cake. I love One Direction. I love community service. I love my family. All you need is love. I love you. But when it comes to this costly way of loving--listening--we're not so all about that. So the third thing that Christ in us accomplishes is that we have a model and resource for sacrificial loving.

Getting to know Grace

Grace and Mom, 1994

In my earliest memories, I lived in a small bubble of Chinese families in a Southern town. But when I was eight, my parents went off the reservation, and we started attending a large, mostly white church. One lady that befriended us all in that lonely transition was Grace Mutzabaugh. As a child, I thought she was old as dirt with her deep criss-cross of wrinkles, but she would have been 60ish when we met. She loved games and at a time when I threw temper tantrums if I thought I were losing, she helped me stay the course through rounds of Parcheesi.

I remember in middle school, she returned from a trip to South America with a gift for me, a bird made out of animal horn. I remember liking the bird, but really marveling that she had thought of me while traveling.

When I was in high school, she tutored my mom in English. I don't remember anyone else spending time with my mom like that. They were dear friends, taking walks and praying together for many years.

Miss Mutzabaugh was the never-married founder of the National Institute of Learning Disabilities which worked closely with the church and Christian school I attended. She traveled to other countries to help missionary parents with learning disabled children have the skills to help their child and stay on the field. She was my example of a woman doing big things outside of home life. But more importantly, she embodied the Jesus-life and showed me what it was like to see people and not projects, to see people and not see labels and expectations.

But I was thick and even though I grew up in a Christian home, in a church, with Grace in my life, it wasn't until I got to college that I understood God's grace. Somewhere between the lovely community of believers I met and the books I read, it finally sank in that there was nothing I could do to make God love me more (and nothing I could do to make God love me less).

As a black-and-white perfectionist, this was revolutionary and deflating. I could not try harder, collect more achievements, do anything to increase the love of God for me. But the primary orientation of my life up to then had been precisely doing more, doing better. So once you can't do anything to earn God's love, what do you do? The doing is what is called discipleship, it's training to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (II Peter 3:18).

Some time after I left home, Grace developed Alzheimer's and had to be moved out of her house. Many of her books came to our house, and maybe a dozen or so are with me now. Looking over those titles, I got a glimpse of how this friend chose to cooperate with the Holy Spirit in a lifeling process of letting God be Lord over all that she was, heart, soul, mind, and strength.

What Grace chose to read, how far she chose to travel, or how she chose to love my family did not earn her a place a heaven. But these were part of an ongoing habit in her life to entrust herself to God. This is discipleship; this is what we do in grace; this is what it means to say yes to Jesus. We apply the strength we have to move in the direction of the will of God and trust in the power of the Holy Spirit for the rest.

Incredible opportunity

When I was finishing university and looking around for what to do next, my internet searching brought up a professor doing work that I thought was interesting. So I applied to his department, and they flew me out to visit. It was a fun visit and I enjoyed sitting in on his class and office hours, but I decided not to go to graduate school straight out of college.

In the end, I wanted to learn from him so much, I re-applied to the program, moved to a big city I didn't like, and took his crazy 4-8PM courses for years. At one point, I was sick of that city and sick of the lack of funding in the department and looked to transfer to another program in another city. But I couldn't find a researcher I'd rather work under. And so I stayed in that expensive, crowded city, in that poor department, but with that professor. For all his faults and the surrounding difficulties, being his student was an incredible opportunity.

 [Jesus] must be clearly seen as the most important thing in human life, and being his apprentice as the greatest opportunity any human being ever has. ~Dallas Willard, "How does the disciple live?"

Being a student of Jesus is the most incredible opportunity. It is inconceivable yet true that the one who is right about everything invites us to learn from him. This learning doesn't consist of long-distance, over-the-internet lectures. This learning is an in-the-flesh, moment-by-moment, intimately-near and out-of-love experience. And from it, we can learn what is good, true, and beautiful.

This is really good news. It is a damaging half-truth to focus on our eternal souls when what we really mean is that we want Jesus to get us into heaven after we die. Indeed, it's a logical fallacy because eternity includes now. The good news of the Bible is not about later. The good news is about now and forever.

What Jesus actually says in "Great Commission" is this (which I've broken up for emphasis):

All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.
Therefore go and make disciples of all nations,
baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,
and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.
And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
~The good news according to Matthew, chapter 28, vs 17-20

There are many points to make here, but what I want to push back against is our Christian cultural emphasis on just going. "Go means Go" I've heard pastors preach. And that's great. I agree. But what's to happen when we arrive? Making disciples. Introducing people to the incredible opportunity of learning all that is good, true, and beautiful with and from the loving Creator God.

What are we to be about? What does being a disciple look like? We'll keep digging into that next week.



  

He is right about everything

For the next little bit, I'd like to reflect on this article called "How Does the Disciple Live?" by Dallas Willard. 

Willard starts off this way:

As Jesus’ disciple, I am his apprentice in kingdom living. I am learning from him how to lead my life in the Kingdom of the Heavens as he would lead my life if he were I. It is my faith in him that led me to become his disciple. My confidence in him simply means that I believe that he is right about everything: that all that he is and says shows what life is at its best, what it was intended by God to be. “In him was life and the life was the light of men.” (John 1:4 NAS)

The idea of apprenticeship has fallen by the wayside. Perhaps if you're in the trades it might not have, but among the people I spend time with we don't talk about and don't know about apprenticeship. The best we get is Mickey Mouse in the Sorcerer's Apprentice. But the idea is that a novice learns from an expert by spending time with and being under the direct instruction of an expert. 

Somehow in the Christian-ese I grew up in the word disciple and follower came up frequently, but this idea that Jesus is a life expert from whom I should learn how to live life did not. And this is true even though the word disciple finds its root in the Latin word for student, discipulus, -a. 

Willard pushes this idea even further writing, "...I believe that [Jesus] is right about everything." Honestly, that rubs me the wrong way. I know that he's God, creator of the universe, etc. etc. blah, blah, blah, but "right about everything" seems so inflexible, so hard nosed. 

But then I ran into this other quote:

When the imitation of Christ does not mean to live a life like Christ, but to live your life as authentically as Christ lived his, then there are many ways and forms in which a man can be a Christian. ~ Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer.

The goal is not to become a Jewish carpenter from two thousand years ago. The goal is to learn His heart because that is and can only be right about everything.

Our church has been going through the 10 commandments which my small group went through only a few months before. (That, by the way, is a lot of 10 commandments.) Why would modern, new covenant, post-Jesus believers spend that much time with the 10 commandments? It's not to live a small, legalistic life. It's to live a large and enlarged life. The tagline for this sermon series is "Set free to live free".

Jesus, the expert on life, the creator and sustainer of life, is not just a savior for the down-the-road judgment day. He provides the pattern and instruction for how to live our right-now life. And far from being a ball and chain, the Jesus way is the best, and freest way to live.

Resting, Secured, Shielded

Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him,
for he shields him all day long,
and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.
Deuteronomy 33:12*

I've been savoring this verse this week. Over the weekend, we hosted some friends while they packed out their house for a big move. They did the literal heavy lifting (and cleaning, and sorting, and details), all we had to do was watch 5 kids under 5 (with help) and provide 3 square meals a day. I know why they were exhausted, but somehow we were too.

And then this verse.

Like lemonade on a hot summer day.

I think about all the uncertainty of a move and am comforted that in God our friends are secure and shielded. And then I think about how tired we all were by the end of the weekend and that image of resting between his shoulders is so powerful. There are many cultures that tie their babies on their backs up between the shoulders. How safe, how close, how restful.

I also notice that the beloved in this verse does nothing but rest. The Lord provides the security, the Lord does the shielding, the Lord does the loving. I think we fail to take that seriously to our detriment. We're afraid that if we rest in our loving God, something important isn't going to get done. We're not going to be secure or shielded if we don't do something. But this verse says differently.

While you're thinking about that, enjoy this trailer about beauty from unlikely places.

*Moses' blessing to the tribe of Benjamin, read the whole chapter for neat blessings given to the 12 tribes of Israel.

Blessed are the uncool

I had cool thoughts coming together this weekend to write up. But then I read this in Brennan Manning's Furious Longing of God and realized this was better than anything I could do. 

I say to you,
Blessed is he who exposes himself to an existence never brought under mastery,
who does not transcend,
but rather abandons himself to my ever-transcending grace.

Blessed are not the enlightened whose every question has been answered and who are delighted with their own sublime insight,
the mature and ripe ones whose one remaining action is to fall from the tree.

Blessed, rather, are the chased, the harassed who must daily stand before my enigmas and cannot solve them.
Blessed are the poor in spirit,
those who lack a spirit of cleverness.

Woe to the rich, and woe to the doubly rich in spirit!
Although nothing is impossible with God, it is difficult for the Spirit to move their fat hearts.

The poor are willing and easy to direct. Like little puppies they do not take their eyes from their master's hand to see if perhaps he may throw them a little morsel from his plate. So carefully do the Poor follow my promptings that they listen to the wind (which blows where it pleases), even when it changes. From the sky they can read the weather and interpret the signs of the times. My grace is unpretentious, but the poor are satisfied with little gifts.
~Hans Urs Von Balthasar; Heart of the World (Fort Collins, CO: Ignatius Press, 1980)

Summer oatmeal

We eat a lot of oatmeal here. We buy 10lbs at a time.

Anyways, I've been just pouring boiled water over my old fashioned oats and leaving it alone while tending to the kids. By the time, I've got them going, my oats are ready. I've now done 1 cup of boiling water over 1/2 cup of oats enough times that I can eyeball the amount.

For the kids, I've been doing baked oatmeal because I could dump in eggs, oil, and milk which bumps up the fat and protein in their breakfast which I like. But now it's summer and I don't feel like turning on the oven, plus our oven has gone wonky.

So today I tried this:

6 cups of oats
3/4 cup raisins
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup butter
cinnamon

And then I poured over boiling water to the level that I usually see when I make my own oatmeal. I would guess that I was in the neighborhood of 8-10 cups of water. I think the box would call for 12 cups of water.

Anyways, I put a lid on the pot and walked away for 15 min while changing the kids and getting the breakfast table set up.

Turned out pretty good. I poured some milk over their portions to cool it off. I later added a big scoop of protein powder since I didn't add eggs.

As a no bake alternative, I liked this. We'll see if the kids take to it.

Special enough to be ordinary

In a past life, I taught English as a second language. One summer in LA, I had an Italian student who marveled that LA Lamborghini drivers would get out wearing t-shirts and flip flops. He said in Italy they always wore nice suits. My first thought was if they owned a Lamborghini, who cares what they wore?! It was a Lamborghini!

Likewise, I think about the apostle Paul, who said he'd learned the secret to being content whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want (Philippians 4:11-12). Or how after listing his exalted resume, he said it was garbage (Philippians 3:4-9). There was no need to dress up because of who Jesus was to him. T-shirts or suits, PB & J or filet mignon, Motel 6 or the Ritz Carlton, whatever! because he was in Christ.

That, however, is not the world we live in. Every message we receive is about the exceptional. Part of it is that our very nervous systems give more attention to the extraordinary and new. So we're more aware of and seek those sorts of things.

But then we add a layer to the exceptional--we try to tie our worth and value to experiencing or owning the exceptional. The logic might be something like this: "If I am noticeable, then I am valuable." And conversely, "If no one notices me, I'm not valuable."

And off we go to buy the right stuff, date the right person, earn the right degree, get the right job, so that we'll be noticed and valuable. Or we can buy the wrong stuff, date the wrong people, have the wrong degree, work the wrong job, and poof! We're nothing.

But the story of the Bible is one of intimate noticing. God talks to Adam and Eve in the garden and notices when they try to hide. He notices Hagar when she runs away from Abraham and Sarah's abuse. The people of Israel, not powerful or mighty, are the object of his noticing, pursuit, protection, and judgment throughout the stories of the Old Testament.

When we join with Paul in grasping our "In Christ" status, that we are the objects of God's loving care and noticing, I think we can become t-shirt and flip-flop wearing Lamborghini drivers. We can be graciously ordinary. We've got nothing to prove. We can have nothing worth posting to facebook, nothing worth writing a news story about, no star stickers or merit badges, no 26.2s on our cars, no designer clothing, no alumni rings. Instead, we can wear our raggedy t-shirts, and not-so-skinny jeans, make non-organic mac & cheese for our kids, take a modest car camping vacation on a muddy, used-to-be-a-lake, and sing off key on Sundays in our not-that-hip church.

In fact, I think that ordinary, not-crazy, everyday love is what Paul encourages the believers in Thessalonica toward. This he says is how to live out loving our neighbors as ourselves.

 Now about your love for one another we do not need to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love each other. And in fact, you do love all of God’s family throughout Macedonia. Yet we urge you, brothers and sisters, to do so more and more, and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody. ~I Thessalonians 4:9-12

As children of the King, we're already special. There's no need to be more special, in fact, we can't make ourselves substantially more special. Sure we can gain notoriety, but only temporarily. So we're free to just live and love the people around us in the most everyday, unnoticeable, not-facebook-worthy ways.

Photo: PacificCoastNews.com

The Ministry of Silliness

With preschool aged kids around the house, I'd say our lives are a mix of the sweet, sour, and silly. Lately, we've been in high friction mode with a lot of "That's my toy!" and "But I was playing with that!" followed by "Waahhh!!" Drives me nuts, but also makes me more aware of when the house rings with laughter and cackles. It might only be for 30 seconds, but it's gold.

This week, I've been meditating on Hebrews 4:14-16, particularly this idea of approaching God's throne with confidence.

Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.~Hebrews 4:14-16

In the text, this confidence appears to rest in two things: first, that Jesus has ascended to heaven as our great high priest, and second, that Jesus lived our human life and "gets" it. An Old Testament high priest offered sacrifices on behalf of himself and the people of Israel for their sins. But the blood of animals had to be offered regularly to cover sins. Jesus, as the high priest, offered himself as a sacrifice not on his own behalf, but on behalf of all humanity for all time. So that's one part of our confidence, that in Jesus, we are expiated, our sins have been paid for and do not prevent us from coming before God's majestic throne.

The other part of our confidence is supposed to be in the fact that Jesus walked the earth and lived human life and can understand our weaknesses. I'm making a bit of a leap here, but I think this works out in all the language used to describe our new relationship with God as one of adopted children.

For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry,“Abba, Father.” ~Romans 8:14-15

Yesterday, we were out at a big birthday dinner, and our kids were at one end of a long table happily into all the sprinkly condiments. There was salt and pepper getting shaken out, there was sugar and pepper, pepper in water, sweet n low and who knows what. The parent-self wanted to chastise them for doing it wrong. But the kid-self remembered all those grown-up dinners my brothers and I attended where we entertained ourselves in the same way albeit Chinese style: tea and soy sauce, tea and chili paste, chili paste and mustard and green onions, and so on.

As I think about this and I think about approaching God's throne of grace with confidence, I think this confidence we're to come with is not the confidence of triumph and ability, but the confidence of relationship. It is like the confidence my children have that we find them delightful, that we are after their good, that we desire to help them*. In this, I think we need to spend more time meditating on Jesus' call to have faith like a child.

*We do have punchy parent moments where we screw this up.

The mysterious ascension of Jesus

If you're an orderly-minded person, you should just go find something else to read.

This Thursday is for many Christians the Feast of Ascension which commemorates the Jesus' return to heaven after his resurrection and is celebrated 40 days after Easter. I have never celebrated the Ascension; I've never heard a sermon on it that I remember (although I did have a pastor who loved Acts, so he may have covered it at one point); I basically have never thought about it.

But this year, I noticed, and I'm trying to rectify the issue.

First off, in proportion to the space given to Jesus' sermons and actions, the description of his return to heaven takes up very little space. In fact, if you will indulge me, I'll provide all the scripture describing the event*:

When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them. While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven. Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God. ~Luke 24:50-53

After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.
They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. “Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.”~Acts 1:9-11

So this week, I read NT Wright's chapter in Surprised by Hope on the Ascension and Dallas Willard's chapter in The Spirit of the Disciplines, "Salvation is a Life". Both of these guys talked about stuff I had never contemplated, but I'll just present one theme that came through in both author's writing: Jesus had a human body after resurrection that was taken to heaven.

The body had wound marks from the nails. It could eat food. (Luke 24:40-43) This enfleshed being, not some dissolved spirit, was taken to heaven which isn't literally up but is actually elsewhere and near at the same time. Or so they say. It seems wonderful and totally sci-fi at the same time.

So where does that leave us? Well, for one thing, however, heaven and earth are organized and related, if I thought I understood it, I certainly don't now. Jesus, as a physical human, is somewhere in heaven, a nonphysical reality. Do his lungs still need oxygenl? Go to the bathroom?

For another thing, Jesus is not with us, but he did send the Holy Spirit. And that was for our good (John 16:7). And Jesus promises to come back (John 14:3, 18, 28). So in the Holy Spirit, God is with us, but God the Son is not, but he will come back. Clear as mud? I don't know what to do with this, but at the least, this points to the idea that my life and history are not complete. There will be a time of deeper union and intimacy between Jesus and individuals, his bride the church, and earth itself.

Finally, and perhaps most tangibly, the resurrected and ascended body of Christ shows us that the whole life of Jesus could not be stopped by death and so in Christ, our whole, embodied lives are saved. On the other side of death, Jesus had the body that he had lived in to walk and talk, eat and sleep, laugh and cry. It's from there that we get the encouragement that "...whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. (I Corinthians 10:31)"  Our very bodies and all that we do in them, hugging, hitting, holding, hiding, these things Jesus died to save. So that our hugging, hitting, holding, and hiding would become actions embued with and transformed by our loving God.

---
*This is not to say that there aren't suggestions in the Old Testament of something of this sort. Nor is it to say that Jesus wasn't talking about this in John 14-17 (although the disciples certainly didn't get it). Nor is it to say that the rest of the New Testament doesn't touch on the implications of this, but as far as the Gospels go, there's not a lot.

Excellence and the Jesus life

I went to college on a scholarship and hanging around other scholarship kids and advisers, I got the sense that we were supposed to win awards and make discoveries and start businesses that were newsworthy. At the same time, I thought people touted as role models of success were obsessed with whatever it took to get there, their personal lives were in shambles, and along the way their ethics were questionable.

It didn't seem like following Jesus and being famously successful were compatible. But it also seemed ridiculous to think that following Christ was a commitment to mediocrity and lameness. I was pretty confused.

Recently, I've been working through Dallas Willard's thoughts on becoming formed in Christ, and while it's really dense material, I'm coming to see that part of what he's advocating is what I call "process over product", a theme I've reflected on often.

I was first introduced to this idea years ago. At that time, I was digesting the idea that defining my relationship with people by whether they made an active profession of faith in Christ was, well, a bad idea--overly product-oriented. Instead, maybe I should be a real friend invested that person's in-and-outs of life--more process-oriented.

This time around I'm digesting the idea that holiness is not an end point (product). Instead, it's the byproduct of life animated by Jesus' life (process). So what I aim for isn't doing holy things, what I aim for is cooperating with God taking over all aspects of my life.  

Willard talks about how salvation isn't about a future ticket to heaven instead of hell, instead our life, our present life, is saved. This made me think about Colossians 2:13 which says, "When you were stuck in your old sin-dead life, you were incapable of responding to God. God brought you alive—right along with Christ! (The Message)" God through the death AND resurrection of Jesus fills our sin-dead lives with real life.

So when I think about excellence, I'm beginning to think I have been looking at things backwards. Yes, if the goal is public recognition for being awesome, it's easy to lose sight of Jesus along the way. But if the goal is living my life in the Jesus way, or more conventionally, following Jesus, then being publicly recognized for being awesome might be a result. But if it doesn't happen, I think a life lived in the Jesus way isn't going to care that much.

How to eat and elephant (2): Pray for a miracle

I recently talked to a friend about his experience moving to live among the urban poor. And he said, "When I got here, the [veteran minister] said, 'It's two steps forward, three steps back, and you pray for a miracle.' and I thought that was a bit cynical. But the longer I'm here, more more I see that it is two steps forward, three steps back and you pray for a miracle. But you know what? Miracles happen."

When Moses was born, Pharaoh had ordered all the young Hebrew babies to be killed. Well, his mother didn't obey that order. Instead she hid him for three months. And then she put him in a basket on a river. A pastor once commented that we needed to heed Moses' mother's example and ask God to show us what was our part and when it was time to leave things to God.

So a few weeks ago, I wrote about how to eat an elephant and said, "One bite at a time." As I've been thinking about that, I think that's only half the answer. All we are able to do is one bite at a time. So that's what we offer to the process. But to be honest, we can't finish the elephant before it rots or we explode. So we need a miracle. Thankfully, God is in the business of miracles.

What's it like to live "one bite at a time, expecting miracles"? Well, I can't speak from a lot of personal experience, but this seems to be a freeing way to live--doing what we are able, in a measured way, then leaving the rest to the miracle-working God.

We've had a couple things come up in our lives recently that have thrown me on the hamster wheel of anxiety. There are many questions about future outcomes, most of which we have no direct control over, no matter how much we wish differently. There are a few things we can do faithfully, our one-bite-at-a-times, but the rest is up to God and well out of our hands.

I wonder if needing to remember that God works miracles is why the Old Testament stories repeatedly include reminders of God's miraculous deliverance of the Isrealites from Egypt. Maybe I'm not the only one that forgets that impossible miracles are not impossible for God. The ten plagues? The parting of the Red Sea? Manna from heaven? Water from a rock? Hugely impossible things for the Isrealites, they could never conjure those happenings, but God could and did, out of his power, out of his love.

So how do you eat an elephant? One bite at the time and pray for a miracle.

Beauty revealing truth

For me an unforgettable experience was the Bach concert that Leonard Bernstein conducted in Munich after the sudden death of Karl Richter. I was sitting next to the Lutheran Bishop Hanselmann. When the last note of one of the great Thomas-Kantor-Cantatas triumphantly faded away, we looked at each other spontaneously and right then we said: "Anyone who has heard this, knows that the faith is true". The music had such an extraordinary force of reality that we realized, no longer by deduction, but by the impact on our hearts, that it could not have originated from nothingness, but could only have come to be through the power of the Truth that became real in the composer's inspiration. ~from an essay by then Cardinal Ratzinger (later Pope Benedict XVI)

I don't have a lot to say this week other than to note that the sliver of the Christian culture that I live in is very weak on beauty. The essay linked above discusses the Beauty and Truth in Jesus with more detail and delicacy than I can, so I encourage the brave to read it slowly.

But I will make the follow comments. I understand my role and my community to be a missional outpost. This means that we live on the far edge of a boundary, let's call it the edge of the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the World (this may be too high falutin' but it'll work for now). So we call out to and receive the weary and worn, we triage them with the truth of God and send them on in, deeper into the kingdom, further in where they can settle into the kingdom life and kingdom rest.

It's the edge-ness that I want to draw attention to. If we are what we say we are, "evangelical" or "missionaries to our zipcode" or "attractional" or whatever, why aren't we more devoted to beauty? Isn't beauty by definition attractive?

I spent 6 months studying in St. Petersburg, Russia. This is a city that was called the Venice of the north. The Hermitage Museum houses art on par with the Louvre in France. The Russian choirs, ballets, and operas were frequent and magnificent. When I rewind through my memories, I had some of my most intense experiences of beauty there--stumbling into choir practice at the Smolny Cathedral, catching sunset in Tavrichesky Garden, that aria in La Traviata. These left me with the deepest sting of loneliness. I was in St. Petersburg alone, I experienced these on my own. But it felt like such things should be shared.

What is truly beautiful draws us out of ourselves, Ratzinger says that it "reawaken[s] a longing for the Ineffable, readiness for sacrifice, the abandonment of self" and contrasts this with false beauty which "stirs up the desire, the will for power, possession and pleasure."

As it happens, I enjoy and value beauty for the missional outpost, but I don't know how to comes to be. But I daresay it's a question worth wrestling with.

**
Image of Smolny Cathedral

Beauty in tears: Suffering redeemed

I've put off writing this final post on suffering. First of all, somehow all this has been emotionally exhausting. But secondly, we have a tendency to want to jump to the potential good that can be found in suffering. This is for obvious reasons--suffering is uncomfortable--but we miss out on acknowledging that we live in a world that is profoundly broken. But not hopelessly so.

Though suffering is the result of sin, just as Jesus conquered death, He can redeem our suffering.

Lately, I've been thinking that if I could tell people three things I would say:

• You are a beloved child of God.
• You can trust Jesus.
• Say yes to Jesus in big ways and small ways, day after day. 

As I think about finding beauty in our tears, about Jesus being bigger than sin and bigger than the suffering that comes from it, I think these three things redeem our pain powerfully.

You are a beloved child of God. 
Our tendency is to live in every identity but this one. We want to be known for what we have a accomplished, or who we know, or how we look, or how other people think of us. But in our suffering, as we encounter our own powerlessness, we can learn "to release our hold on worldly hopes and put our 'hope in God'."

When we embrace our identity in our belovedness as children of God (Galatians 3:26), then we can live in the tenderness of a Father who is present with us in our pain, who grieves with us, who holds us tenderly. And this Father is so powerful and loving that He can take the ugliness of suffering and use it mature us, to heal us, by "heal[ing] our hearts of self-reliance, misplaced security, fears, and complacence." In this we learn the next truth.

You can trust Jesus.
Reynoso writes in her essay that after the tragic death of her daughter, she understood better why people self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. Pain demands an answer. She says it "drives us to run either to God or away from Him." In God's love and power, we can trust Jesus. When we have the power and perspective, we can trust him with our pains in general. When we have fallen and are overwhelmed, we can trust him with our next breath, the one too painful to inhale.

The claim about Jesus is that "all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. (Colossians 1:16-17). Jesus holds everything together, the world we live in, the lives we live, the breaths we take. You can trust Jesus.

So say yes to Jesus in big ways and small ways, day after day.
Saying yes to Jesus is a good idea even if we're not suffering, but it is crucial when we are blinded by our tears. When we choose Jesus' way, we learn "humble submission in pain and sacrifice"--what Jesus chose in going to the cross-- is where God can work most powerfully and gloriously.

Yes to Jesus and no to ourselves is hard. We think we understand ourselves; we know we do not fully understand Jesus. We struggle to trust Him; we struggle to believe that we are His beloved. Fortunately, we don't even have to successfully struggle.

Paul talks about his struggle this way:

I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”  (2 Corinthians 12: 8-9)

We have enough. In Jesus, we have enough, we are given enough to trust, to say yes. We don't have to be strong. It's not about being pretty, successful, or with it. God's grace is sufficient. Our weakness gets in the way of nothing. In fact, it appears to be necessary. "Suffering showcases the work of God in our lives, allowing God to reveal Himself through weakness and great need."

Beloved child of God, hold on to Jesus. As he did for Israel, he does for us. He will "comfort all who mourn...[and give] a crown of beauty instead of ashes."

Quotes from Reynoso, "Formed through suffering" in The Kingdom Life.

Choosing compassion: Suffering with others

Reynoso ("Formed through suffering" in The Kingdom Life) repeatedly talks about how while suffering can be redeemed by God, it is not something we ask for, except for in one instance: we are called to bear one another's burdens (Galatians 6:2).

Now this seems like a choice; I could choose not to enter into another person's suffering, I could look away. But in I Corinthians 12, Paul writes about the community of believers being the many parts of one body. And "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it...(vs 26)." Looking away doesn't mean I escape the effects.

And Jesus did not look away. Mark 6:34 says, "When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things." He arrived, he saw, he had compassion. The Latin roots of the word compassion mean to suffer with or to suffer together.

Here are some thoughts on having Jesus' compassion:

Presence
Jesus sees the crowd, he is moved by them, and then he walks among them.

Just as knowing that God is near us and not indifferent to us is a consolation to us in our times of suffering, we need to choose to enter the suffering of others with our presence. I think we shirk this role because it seems like not doing anything. It's just being around. It's being around without a chore to complete, without the right words to say, without anything but being there. It'll probably be awkward, but that's ok.

Provision
While he is with the crowd, Jesus teaches them. That's what his compassion moves him to. With our limited abilities, I think we have a limited capacity to provide tangible help in suffering, but we still can try and should respond to opportunities to do so. In fact Paul's encouragement is to "...not become weary in doing good...as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers (Galatians 6:9-10)."

When we are able to push back against the suffering of others, we are participating with God in bringing goodness to the world and extending the reign and rule of God's kingdom.

Sometimes this means a material response, food, shelter, clothing, etc. Sometimes this means using our influence or knowledge. Middle-class Americans have tremendously more influence and knowledge and most people across the globe. Sometimes it's an act of service, picking up medication, volunteering childcare, fixing a broken toilet.

Prayer
Jesus got so into teaching the crowd that they were together through several meal times and in the middle of nowhere (Mark 6:35). They had a spiritual need, and now the crowd had a physical need, they were hungry. This is the five loaves and two fish story. I think we always tend to focus on how this small amount of food miraculously feeds five thousand. We miss the part where Jesus holds on to not enough food, looks up to heaven and gives thanks (vs 41).

In suffering with others, we pray. We pray with what we know is not enough. We trust the Holy Spirit to perfect the prayers we cannot form (Romans 8:26-27).

Perseverance
Suffering people frequently suck. They make choices that hurt themselves or others more. They say awkward things or don't say anything at all. They can be ungrateful. And even if they suffer in a saintly way, sometimes the suffering just keeps on coming and it doesn't end soon, or soon enough.

Welp, as members of one body there's no get-out-of-jail-free card. In fact, in John 17, Jesus says that our oneness, unity, ability to be one body, is evidence to the world of the love of Jesus (see John 17:20-23, The Message).

We must continue to be present for one another, to provide for one another, to pray for one another. We press on even when the miracle healing doesn't come, or the promised "better" doesn't arrive, especially then because our God is a God who perseveres, who does not wait for us to be pretty before he comes to us and loves us.

As we celebrate Easter, we celebrate a risen King, who came to earth as a baby and was here with humanity on earth, experienced the joys and discomforts of our lives while living in perfect unity with God the Father. He died on the cross, was buried, and on the third day beat death and rises again. The perfect, Creator God of the universe fully suffered humanity's death sentence. In doing so, death lost its sting. In Jesus, there is life. We can choose to follow him as our King, a King who knows our every pain, our every heartache, a King who promises us rest.

Alleluia! He is risen!

 

Suffering: Taking up our cross

And [Jesus] said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. ~Luke 9:23

We're wrapping up Good Friday when we remember Jesus carrying his cross to Calvary where he was nailed to it and upon which he died though he was innocent in every way. So it is fitting that we consider the sufferings that come from taking up our own cross as we obey and imitate Christ.

For the past several posts, I have not addressed the sufferings that come from our choices. Sometimes, as mentioned here talking about the roots of suffering, we make sinful choices which have consequences. But sometimes we make the right choice, and there's pain. We choose Jesus over our own way and instead of glory there is suffering. That's a really bitter pill to swallow.

I remember at one point in my singleness being super mad at God. "I'm doing my best to live in a way that pleases you, God, and I'm out of my mind lonely." Others in following Jesus suffer small indignities and large. Some are looked down on, seen as foolish, aren't hired, aren't promoted, get reassigned. Others lose friends, lose livelihoods, lose their freedom, lose their life. And it's not fair, and it's no surprise. Such is what we are promised as followers. Love cost Christ his life. We are called to love, and it will require no less of us. And that's frankly scary.

Reynoso ("Formed through suffering" in The Kingdom Life) has this encouragement:

Because we know that obeying God and living by kingdom values will cause us to pay a price, sometimes we choose to avoid suffering and settle for less than God has intended for us. In doing so, we miss out on experiencing the powerful reality of Paul's words, "that I may know Him...and the fellowship of His sufferings" (Philippians 3:10, NASB).

In the garden of Eden, we see a perfect relationship between God and Adam and Eve. One of the main threads of the whole Bible is God's work through history to bring reconciliation between himself and his people, to make the relationship whole. On this side of heaven, while we still live in the fallout of sin, everything that brings us nearer to God has a sweetness to it. So sharing in the suffering of Christ has a promised sweetness in the midst of the pain.

Truths for the Suffering Believer

Paul wrote, "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, the old has gone, the new has come."

What does this mean when we are hurting? If the world without Jesus hurts and the body of Christ hurts too, what's new? What is the old that has gone?

For starters, I don't actually know. But here are some ideas from the Bible that we can hold on to.

First, as I concluded in the last post, God is not indifferent to our pain and weeps with us. This doesn't make chemo any more comfortable or solve the grief of a lost loved one, but it is nevertheless light in dark times.

Consider this testimony:
"Two weeks after my daughter's [fatal] accident, I was lamenting in prayer over how damaged Paula's body was. She had been an attractive young woman at the apex of her beauty, but in the accident she was thrown from the car and crashed against a concrete barrier. When I first saw her body in the casket, I thought we had walked into the wrong chapel. As I relived the horror of her shattered body with God, His quiet voice spoke inaudibly, "I felt that way, too." I was shocked into silence as I remembered that He, too, was a bereaved parent. (Reynoso, "Formed Through Suffereing" in The Kingdom Life)"

At the same time God empathizes with this woman who has tragically lost her daughter, God's heart is for each of us in our own experiences however we think it compares to anyone else's experiences. Pain is pain; God sees and grieves with all of us.

Secondly, we have the Holy Spirit as our comforter. In John 14, Jesus is preparing his friends for what's coming up. He tells them he's leaving soon, but that he's not going to abandon them as orphans (vs 18). With them will be the Holy Spirit described as the parakletos which gets translated as advocate, counselor, helper, comforter. Common ideas within these translations is that the Parakletos comes to the aid of one in need. And Jesus gives the promise that the Parakletos will never leave (vs 16) and will teach and remind (vs 26).

When we are in pain, pretty much we just want it to end or at least lessen. As we understand it, any supernatural power a god could have should be applied to that end. However, we frequently don't get that and certainly not when we want it. But just because we don't get what we want doesn't mean that as believers the Parakletos is not with us, that we do not have supernatural aid in our need. We may not notice until we're at the end of our rope, but God our Parakletos has been with us all the while actively helping us in our need.

Thirdly, as we follow in the way of Jesus, we come to know that death is not the end. Whether our suffering is spiritual, emotional, physical, relational, whatever it is, we have the hope of heaven. This is not a pansy, precious moments angels heaven. This is a stiff, bracing new reality filled with beauty, health, and rightness.

Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,”for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 4 ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” ~ Revelation 21

We look around at the pain in our lives and the pain in the lives of others and the pain across the globe, across history and we can ask, "Is this as good as it gets?" And the resounding answer is No. All the good that we hope for will be fulfilled perfectly in eternity.

Where is God in suffering?

We envision God as the source of life, light, and goodness as is claimed in the Bible, and when we encounter death, darkness, and despair, our logical conclusion is that God has turned his back on us. This only adds to our misery.

Yet when we go back to scripture, we see time after time God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit moved and bowed in the face of suffering. I do not understand how this works, but this is a pattern in scripture.

God the Father
Nobody reads Ezekiel; it's a weird book tucked in an obscure part of the Old Testament, but it gives the most amazing description of the heart of God.

In chapter 16, God explains his relationship to his special people, the Israelites, with a story about an abandoned newborn he found in a field and saves. She grows up but is still fragile and in need of care and he cleans her, marries her, takes care of her, lavishing her with jewelry, clothes, and fine dining. She becomes famous across the world for her beauty.

But she begins to trust in this beauty, and the love story begins to unravel. She starts sleeping around eventually not taking money for it, but giving money for it. She takes the riches she had been given and uses them to make idols. Then, she sacrifices her children to them. What wickedness, ugliness, and profanity!

Far from abandoning her in her sin, God takes it in the chin like a rejected father and cuckold husband. Then he allows her to reap what she has sown. And there is verse after verse of his howling pain and anger, descriptions of the results of sin. Israel suffers the consequences of her betrayal, and God the Father suffers right there with her.

God the Son
In Jesus, the infinite God squeezed himself into human flesh and lived among us. That's what we celebrate at Christmas.

God physically enters our world and experiences it from first to last breath--experiences sunburns and mosquito bites, making new friends, losing old friends, family members dying, new births, weddings, physical exhaustion, hunger, and longing. Jesus lived in a minority group in a mighty empire, was born as a refugee on the run from a tyrant, was a brilliant adolescent apprenticed to become a blue collar carpenter. But more remarkably, this Friday we remember his ultimate suffering on the cross, a cruel, publically humiliating way to die slowly.

In the life of Jesus, we can be sure that not only does the great God the Father feel the fallout of sin in mysterious, supernatural ways, but God the Son fully understands our human sufferings.

Isaiah prophesied this about Jesus' sufferings (chapter 53):
...He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
    nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
He was despised and rejected by mankind,
    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
Surely he took up our pain
    and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
    stricken by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
    and by his wounds we are healed.

In life, Jesus experienced what we humans experience. In death, out of love, he took on the compounded, sin-upon-sin of all people and it "pierced" him, it "crushed" him. Far from abandoning us to the suffering caused by sin, Jesus in his crucifixion faced the ultimate suffering, the collective wages of sin.

God the Holy Spirit
The Holy Spirit, promised to us our comforter and guide also knows pain and grief.

In this next passage, we see the love of Jesus in action, our sin, and a grieved Holy Spirit:

...In all their troubles,
    he was troubled, too.
He didn’t send someone else to help them.
    He did it himself, in person.
Out of his own love and pity
    he redeemed them.
He rescued them and carried them along
    for a long, long time.
But they turned on him;
    they grieved his Holy Spirit.
Isaiah 63 (The Message)

While the Holy Spirit may be generally grieved by sin, we are told he is personally grieved as he accompanies us in our suffering:
In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.
Romans 8:26

This interceding is a emotional pleading that the Spirit does with us as we pray in our weakness, in our need, in our desperation.

So what?
We expect God to be far from suffering in general, from our suffering in particular. But scripture does not read that way. Instead, we have a God intimately acquainted with suffering in all ways. Whatever we may feel in our pain, God is not indifferent to our suffering, and we are not alone. His back is not turned, his face is upon us and he weeps with us.

The Roots of Suffering

This week is Holy Week, the week leading up to Easter. I'll be posting more often as I process thoughts on suffering.

The story of humanity from the Bible claims that the world was created without sin allowing a perfect, direct relationship with God. But this relationship was not coercive, God did not demand love and affection from his image-bearers. Instead a tree was planted in the middle of this paradise with a prohibition against eating from it. This was the relationship escape valve. The promise was that if they wanted out from the relationship they could have it, and in obtaining their out they would die. But of course, the story goes that they didn't die immediately; they didn't experience a physical death immediately.

Instead the first thing they experienced was shame, shame that caused them to sew leaves to cover themselves with (Genesis 3:7). And when they next encountered God, they were afraid because of their shame (Genesis 3:10).

From their choices, our first parents Adam and Eve introduced sin into the world and all the rest of creation was touched by the stink of death and suffering.

Last week, I reflected on the idea that suffering is less about the (in)justice of God and more about the destructive nature of sin. In this post, I want to present three areas that have been distorted by those first sins that results in our personal and collective suffering.

• Human choice
• Creation
• Powers and Principalities  

(Excerpts are from Reynoso's essay "Formed through suffering" in The Kingdom Life)

Human Choice
When we choose our own way over God's way, we can inflict "intentional and malicious harm...[that] causes a world of grief, pain and injustice."

But we can also make choices out of "ignorance, neglect and indifference" which "passively, but effectively hurt individuals and people groups, sometimes perpetuating unjust systems on entire nations of people."

And we also have to live with the limitations of our humaness. "Sometimes we cannot prevent tragedy simply because our strength and knowledge are not sufficient or we are not in the right place at the right time." It only took a moment of my distracted crazy for my son to fall off his changing table and break his leg.

Creation
I don't know about your influences, but a lot of arguments and advertisements I come across claim something is good because it is/was natural. But in the light of very natural disasters like tsunamis or very natural critters like bed bugs or very natural diseases like malaria or very natural biological processes like cancer and aging, how good is nature?

"All creation suffers hurt, damage, erosion, death and decay (see Romans 8:20-22) because God linked nature to the consequences of Adam and Eve's sin...God allowed sin to distort His creation and cause suffering...Meanwhile until its liberation the natural world suffers pain and humans suffer with it through the wildness of nature..."

Turns out nature is bent by sin too. It's not that there is nothing good in nature--it is product of a good God's creativity--but like humans, it has been warped by sin and is capable of inflicting great suffering.*

So while "God may use nature to carry out His plans...he is not the source of damage and death in this world." Natural disasters are so beyond our control we call them "acts of God", and in doing so we fail to grasp how thoroughly sin has warped even nature.

Powers and Principalities
These words carry a lot of Christian "voodoo" in them, but Paul seems to be describing "human and spiritual structures" which includes both the sense of evil spiritual forces as well as human institutions found in our culture, economics, and politics.

The latter "come under the influence of damaged and corrupt world systems, insatiable desires of the flesh (i.e., greed), and Satan, who desires to enslave the hearts and souls of men and women. The result is suffering beyond measure. Powers in the form of war, ethnic cleansing, slavery, systemic prejudice, and unjust dominance of the strong over the weak...break spirits and bodies by the weight of suffering they impose."

On Palm Sunday, we celebrated the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem even while on the back of a common donkey. On Easter Sunday, we celebrate the risen Jesus having defeated death. But in these days in between, we travel with Jesus in the consequences of sin. Before resurrection there is the cross, and Jesus hung on the cross as the definitive act of bringing restoration to a broken world. His death was costly in that it paid off an enormous debt, righting countless wrongs. To understand the glory of a risen King, we have to be willing to stare into the darkness. To live in grace, we must understand how wholly broken we are individually, corporately, and in the world at large.

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*This is why comparing the love of God to a hurricane may be inapt.

What suffering reveals

In the last week of reading Calm My Anxious Heart, we're covering our If Onlys and Whys. I think we come to these questions when we are dissatisfied with our current lives. It can be a mild dissatisfaction that gnaws away at our contentment or a deep festering pain--physical, mental, social or all of the above. So I'd actually like to use this last post reflecting on Calm My Anxious Heart to kick off a new series reading through an essay on suffering ("Formed through suffering" by Peggy Reynoso in The Kingdom Life).

I tend to not like to think about God and suffering because I end up questioning the justice and power of God. Like many people, I wonder how could a good, powerful God be loving and not end suffering?

Now a very common response from Christians is that God can bring good out of suffering (Romans 8:28). Reynoso starts her essay confronting this by saying, "...the misfortunes, illnesses, deprivation, and cruelty that cause our pain are still intrinsically bad, despite how God may use them for good." We must start there. The death, destruction, and despair that can feel too near are bad, it's ok to hate that stuff, to stop in the darkness and say it's dark.

Our church small group has been making its way through the New City Catechism and we've been stuck in a long series of questions about God's law, sin and the effects of sin. Frankly, it's depressing. Week after week, we're confronted with our limitations, our sinfulness, and the consequence of sin--death. I want to throw up may hands and say, "I GET IT! We suck, we suck, we suck and we earn suckitude (Romans 5:8)."

But do I get it? I want beauty and sunshine, I'd rather gloss over sin. It can't be that bad.

But Reynoso writes, "We err when we look to suffering to reveal whether God is just or unjust because what it best exposes is the destructive nature of sin." 

In my first encounter with depression, I lived in a lot of If Onlys and Whys. I played those tapes over and over in my mind. I would curl on the floor of my room in storms of inner pain while I clung to ugly conclusions based on lies. And I remember at some point feeling like God was saying, "You have an opportunity here. You can keep doing things your way or you can try my way. Your way is leaving you on the floor in darkness and pain." Well, I couldn't deny that. In the end, part of the way out was medication, but a bigger part was choosing God's truth over my lies. Sin is wildly destructive.

If you're fixing water damage in your house, you need to know how far the problem goes. It doesn't do any good to slap a new coat of paint over the rot because the rot's still there. Before we apply the grace of Jesus to sin, we've got to know how far the rot's gone. So we read the news, talk to a friend, visit a family member in the hospital. Suffering reveals the rot of sin to be pervasive, unavoidable, undeniable despite out best attempts. Stew on that a bit.

Boring can be better

So we've settled into a breakfast routine. My husband has been eating the same breakfast all the years I've known him. But getting myself and the kids on a routine has taken a bit longer.

The kids have baked oatmeal with a bit of milk poured over it and microwaved. Sometimes one asks for an egg.

I'm settled into 1/2 cup of oatmeal (pour 1 c. boiled water over it, stick a plate over it and let it sit for 5 min) + 1 scoop protein powder. Then 2 fried eggs.

Eating the same thing every morning makes mornings a bit easier. When I run out of baked oatmeal, I'm always at a bit of a loss for what to do. Sometimes we have dry cereal on hand. But that never fills them up the way the oatmeal does. This may be boring, and the alternative is more interesting, but at this point way to much work to be worth it. No one is complaining about the same ole everyday, so we're just going to roll with it for now.

The baked oatmeal I'm making these days looks like:

6 c. old fashioned oats
pinch salt
1/3 c sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 c. raisins

3 eggs
1/4 oil
3 c. milk

preheat oven to 300 F
beat eggs, mix wet ingredients
line 9 x 13 pan with foil
mix dry ingredients in the pan
pour over wet ingredeints
mix together
bake for 35 min
when cool cut into 1/16ths
store in fridge for up to a week or freeze

Holding onto treasure

This week in Calm my Anxious Heart, we're reading about letting go of What ifs and entrusting our future to God. This is a powerful vision: What if I could let go of my What ifs and let God take care of the future? I mean, I think for most people, that would be a life changing gift to be able to let go of anxiety about what might happen. So how do we get there?

Scripture memory is a discipline that helps us trust God, but everyone (including me) wants to skip it because its corny or hard. This is unfortunate. When I think about pivotal times of deep emotional stress, it helped to have a truth from scripture to hold up to the lies I wanted to believe. It's not that I didn't wander off into dark places, but when I got there, I had light.

I believe that we should treat God's word like treasure. When it comes to treasure, people have given their lives hunting for treasure, searching for gold, searching for oil. But followers of Jesus are told that:

[The decrees of the Lord] are more precious than gold,
than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
than honey from the honeycomb.
~Psalm 19:10

This is a guarantee. The word of God is freely available to us in the Bible, and its value is beyond measure. The question is not, "Is the Bible worth hanging onto?" The question is, "How to I keep this?"

The Navigators have an illustration, which I've replicated at the top of this post, that describes five ways of holding onto the Bible: hearing, reading, studying, memorizing, and meditating. Notice that the two fingers most important for gripping, the index finger and thumb, are memorizing and meditating.

You can get a long way to hanging onto your treasure by memorizing and meditating on God's word. Worry is simply mediating on an undesired outcome. Holy meditation is "worrying" on God's goodness and promises. Having scripture already memorized helps. I mean, nobody sits there and writes out their worry list for the day. The worries are already there. So if we're going to "worry" on scripture, it helps if it's already in our minds.

Here are a few verses that have been helpful for me, (and were part of the Topical Memory System that I learned in 1998.)

Isaiah 41:10 – “ So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous hand.”

Isaiah 26:3 – “ You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you.”

Luke 9:23 – “Then he said to them all,” If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up the cross daily and follow me.”

Mark 10:45 – “ For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as ransom for many.”

John 13:34-35 – “ A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love on another.”

Galatians 6:9-10 – “ Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who
belong to the family of believers.”

Hang on to your treasure. "Worry" on the word of God. 

How to eat an elephant

Back in college, I studied Russian. Actually, I should say I studied Russian grammar or even Russian linguistics. And then, I went to Russia. And surprise, surprise, I couldn't speak Russian. I felt ashamed that I knew so much and could use so little. But I wanted to learn how to speak Russian.

So I decided that each day I would apply one new grammar rule. I gave myself permission to ignore every other grammar rule except the rule I picked out for the day. With time and a lot of trial and error, and the patience of the kids I was working with, my Russian improved.

This reminds me of one of my husband's jokes: "How do you eat an elephant?...One bite at a time." The elephant was speaking Russian, the bites were one grammar rule at a time.

When I think about the Christian life, I feel we get a lot of "Once, I ate an elephant" and a lot less, "One bite at a time."

We imagine what a holy life looks like and we think, "if only I prayed more and did that Beth Moore Bible study and got an accountability partner and served in the children's ministry and volunteered for the upcoming service project with my husband and kids and...who am I kidding? This is never going to happen"

When it comes to life with Jesus, I think that the big picture, the whole elephant is important. Becoming holy is what God asks of us. But we need to live in the one bite at a time. We don't like bites because they are mundane and even doable, but I think that's where trusting Jesus flowers.

So in one relationship that went off the rails, the elephant was a healthy relationship, the first bite was not being in bed together. Not sitting, standing, and definitely not lying down. Other bites later on would include an evening cutoff time for phone calls and a complete break from communicating for a while.

That was the last of a my string of inappropriate relationships with other women. So on this side of things, the elephant is not only a healthy relationship with that woman, but healthy relationships with other women in general and with my husband. But if you only see where I am now, you don't know how small that first bite was and how it was a miracle empowered by the Holy Spirit.

Maybe you've always been impressed by people who memorize scripture. Well, once, a roommate and I decided to memorize the book of Philippians. That sounds like a huge elephant. The first bite was Philippians 1:1. That's it. We added one verse a day, six days a week. It really helped to do this with a friend to smooth over the times when I just wanted to throw in the towel. Anyways, lo and behold, about four months later we were done.

But to the more mundane, I'm not a star housekeeper. It's easy for me to feel like if I can't get it all right, it's not worth doing any of it. So I'm learning to live in God's grace and accept cleaning by bites. One year, the big accomplishment was mopping once a week. Later, I added cleaning the bathrooms. And more recently, I put all the bedsheets on a schedule instead of whenever I remembered them. (I know all you neatniks are freaking out, but Jesus loves me even in my grossness.)

I'm a big picture person, so it feels strange for me to be the one to say this, but I think we need to think about individual bites more often.

If you're a wife, what if the next time you see your husband, you just smile and choose not to air the complaints of the day? Add a kiss for flair.

Or what if the next time you're lonely, you stay off the internet, just this once, and you pick something healthy or even neutral to do? Rearrange a closet, go for a walk, pick up a project you never finished, get gas for your car, change the batteries in your smoke detector. I don't know. Anything. Even a 5 minute thing.

I've been at war with depression lately as my medication has been changed. My bites are

1. not skipping exercise 
2. adding two cups of milk a day--it's a long story 
3. reciting John 6:68-69 over my dark thoughts. 

It's not magic. I haven't finished this elephant, but the alternative is to lay down and die. And I'm not ready for that.

So how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

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Watercolor by Fritz Ahlefeldt, hikingartist.com

What am I supposed to do with my life?

The Calm My Anxious Heart chapter that we're reading in my women's Bible study talks about purpose in life and encourages everyone to have a purpose statement. But it's really short on how to develop one other than to open your Bible and have magic happen.

At the same time, I've been listening to some old talks by Alan Andrews, a former president of the Navigators, and they've made me think of some questions or experiences that can be useful in identifying purpose.

In the first talk, Andrews mentions that all followers of Jesus have 3 callings: to repentance, to discipleship, and to laboring. So the first call is to turn away from our sin and toward Jesus and his saving grace through his death, burial and resurrection. The second call is to discipleship, which Dallas Willard describes as a lifelong apprenticeship with Jesus meaning we learn how to live by watching and being with Jesus.

The third call is laboring which to Andrews and the Navigators is about the work of moving people in the direction of Jesus either in a conversion experience or a discipleship process. I think about laboring as service. Sometimes people need to be served with truth about Jesus or how to have an ongoing walk with Him, and sometimes people need to be served with general acts of friendship, and sometimes people need actual serving that they could never repay.

If these are primary callings from Jesus, then when we throw up our hands asking "Am I doing what I'm supposed to be doing with my life?" we can start with these follow up questions:

1. Am I living a life of repentance where I'm walking away from sin and toward Jesus?
2. Do I allow Jesus and what I know about Him from the Bible to govern my choices?
3. Am I faithfully serving others, making someone(s) other than myself a priority?

I think these are important questions because I wonder if we see the purposes God has in our lives as we allow Him to shape our character and reveal our gifts.

We need our character to be God-shaped because purpose without God is like traveling with a broken compass. You'll get somewhere, but it probably won't be where you want to go.

We need to understand our gifts because we're told in scripture (I Corinthians 12, Romans 12, Ephesians 4) that everyone has some spiritual gift and that the differences are like the different parts of the body--critical functions that are different but part of a working whole. And we recognize our gifts and our community recognizes our gifts as we serve.

So if you're trying to figure out what your purpose in life is and you haven't submitted to the rule of Jesus and developed godly character, start there. And if you've done that, then start faithfully serving others. If you've been slacking at work, stop slacking. Do your job (even if you hate it). If you've never helped out your community, i.e. neighborhood, city, local church, do that for a while (even if it is uncomfortable).

You might not be writing a purpose statement during that time, but you're learning to entrust your life to God, and that thrills him, and what's the point to all this if we're not pleasing God?

But let's say you've done all this and you really want to have a purpose statement. I think some quiet time alone with God, reviewing your experiences in God's word, in work, play, and service, I think you'll see themes. That's where the purpose statement comes from.

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I'll write my personal reflections up in another post since this has gotten long. Oh, and before I forget, my favorite book on this topic is Os Guinness's The Call.