Plagiarized Thoughts

Family Feud

2007-04-14T13:59:00.000-07:00

I love me some Southern Baptists.

I went to visit my brother in Dallas a few weeks ago, and went to his church one Sunday, which happens to be Southern Baptist. He is the interim worship leader at this church, so one of the pastors introduced me in front of the entire congregation, and told them that I was studying Biblical Studies at Covenant College. Everyone I met was warm and loving when they met me, which reminded me of the universality of the body of Christ. You could go across the world and be welcomed as a family member in various circles. There just so happens to be one thing that screws up the beautiful picture.

Denominations.

Don't get me wrong here, I understand why denominations exist and the purpose they serve. I just lament the fact that they do. If it were not for denominations, perhaps churches would be even more torn and bitter over doctrinal issues than they are now. And yet, because of denominations, millions of believers simply do not speak with each other.

After that church service in Dallas, one of the pastor's wives approached me and kindly made conversation with me.

"Which college are you at again?" she asked.

"Oh, hello. Covenant College. It's a Presbyterian school right outside Chattanooga, Tennessee."

"Presbyterian?"

"Yes ma'am. It's affiliated with the PCA."

"So...are you studying to become a Presbyterian minister one day?"

"Umm, something like that," I said, unsure of how to answer.

"Well, I sure hope not."

"Exuse me?" I asked, genuinely wondering if she was being sarcastic or not.

She wasn't.

"Presbyterians. You sprinkle babies, don't you?

"Well, that's an issue of minor concern for me that I really am not adamant..."

"You know they're not Christians....the babies, I mean."

"Well, we see sprinkling as a sign of the Covenant found in the Old Testament. I can assure you, the PCA truly tries to uphold Scripture to the best of it's ability."

"Baptists do too!"

"I agree, I actually was Baptsist for 15 years of my life."

She then decided to end cordially after theologically drilling me, "Well anyway, it's nice to have you visit us. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in Dallas!"

I must say, I was confused to say the least. I kind of laughed it off and went on with my day. But I continue to wonder, how many churches are filled with members who really believe their denomination is the saving grace of the Christian faith--God's chosen means of carrying on orthodoxy. Oh how deceptive is the human heart!

If we could only see the beauty of Christ's worldwide Church, with the sobering realization that we have much to learn from our brothers and sisters--even when if they aren't favored by God enough to be in our denomination.

The Mysterious Spirit of Christ: Why I Believe Rafiki is a Prophet

2007-03-16T19:30:00.000-07:00

I have the honor to offer to you an article very dear to my heart; it was one of my first blogs, and still is one of my favorites. Perhaps I'm just running out of material, and am forced to revive old stuff. Either way, I hope you enjoy it, for the second time or the first...

Towards the end of the movie, there is an incredible scene where Rafiki (the crazy monkey with a blue jabooty) shows Simba that his father Mufassa is alive. He brings him to a pond and tells him to look in; Simba is dismayed though because he only sees a reflection of himself. As the monkey stirs the waters with the tip of his finger, he responds, "Looook haaauder. You see? He lives in you." Simba looks down to find not his own reflection, but that of his father, the king.

The fact of the matter is, the Lion King taught me a deep truth about the mysterious Spirit of Christ. The whole Spirit thing is kind of strange when you think about it, you know? Jesus says He is gonna send a spirit (of Himself) back to earth to live inside His believers and guide them. These things have always confused me, but lately I've been especially inrigued by the odd words of Jesus. He says in John 5:41, "I do not accept praise from men, but I know you. I know that you do not have the love of God in your hearts." Oddly enough, this passage actually shed an incredible amount of light on this subject for me. Let me explain.

Jesus is talking to Nicodemus in John 3, explaining what it means to live eternally. He says something quite odd in verse 6: "Flesh gives birth to flesh , but the Spirit gives birth to spirit." I thought about that for a while, and I came to the conclusion that Jesus lives inside of us. Not terribly profound, yet it hit me really hard when I realized it. The Spirit (of Christ; aka, the Holy Spirit) literally gave birth to Christ in us just as our mothers gave birth to us. And the process of becoming holy is Jesus growing inside of us, consuming more and more of our being.

I realize that this sounds odd, but please hear me out. I become increasingly convinced that this is true, and I think the Apostle Paul defends the concept in Galatians 2:20, "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me." The process of us becoming holy is not us getting better; it is Christ in us becoming greater. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace...you know the rest. So if you've ever experienced true spiritual joy, it is literally the joy of Christ (the happiest being in the universe) in you being joyful. If you've ever truly loved someone, it is literally Jesus loving that person through you. I am convinced that we can't do these things on our own.

Let's take this one step further. We are finite. I was born in 1986 and will be done with life sometime within the next 60 years or so. Christ, on the other hand, is infinite, with no beginning or end. This is significant, because our eternal life (a phrase that has become quite trite within Christian circles) is literally Christ living forever in us. Amazing when you really think about it, isn't it? We as humans do not have the capacity to live forever, yet Christ does; so when He is alive in us, we too live forever.

Let me bring these thoughts full circle to the verse I spoke of at the beginning. Jesus says He doesn't accept any praise from men. I thought this was very strange, and even a little rude; but it makes perfect sense when we put all these Biblical truths together. Jesus doesn't accept praise from men, because we are unable to sincerely praise Him. Only those with changed hearts (the Spirit of Christ now living in them) can truly worship him. For it is the Spirit of Christ in us that adores and worships the Father and Christ Himself, for only He (the Spirit) understands how infinitely worthy of praise They are. We can't see this glory on our own. In this way, we may boast in nothing, giving full credit to Jesus Christ. May we say with John the Baptist: "[Jesus] must become greater; I must become less" (John 3:30).

Look harder my friends. You see, He lives in you.

2007-03-14T20:04:00.000-07:00

I find it hard to believe that God loves me.

I mean really believe it. To miss a few classes, forget a meeting with someone, skip devotions, put off things I know I have to get done, get angry at my roomates, neglect to call my friends from back home I haven't talked to in months, walk past a ministry sign up without feeling any desire to help...

...and still believe that God passionately loves me. The richness of Jesus' love is most fully realized in my greatest failures, for only then am I truly dependent upon His grace.

It is in these fragmented and scattered glimpses of my life that the gospel really makes sense.

The Power of Bubbles

2007-03-07T13:48:00.000-08:00

It's hard for us to imagine a doctine such as the trinity as a comforting one, but perhaps Scripture portrays such truths to us not so we will have more to write about in our systematic theolgy books, but that we may be encouraged and given hope.

Somewhere along the way, we have forgotten that the trinity is a team. It's easy for us to pit the members of the trinity against one another, as if each one is completely univolved with or even opposed to the work of the other members. For example, we tend to think, albeit subconsciously, that God the Father was ticked off in the Old Testament, and the loving Son had to come make things right in the New Testament, and the Holy Spirit was off blowing bubbles in left field until Acts, where He gets to do fun things like appear as a flaiming tongue and kill people for not telling Him the truth (Acts 2; Acts 5).

But the truth is, each member of the trinity is deeply involved in every act of the redemptive story; each has an active and ongoing role. Granted, each gets the stage at a different moment in history: the Father in the OT, the Son in the NT, and the Spirit in Church history. But each of these could not be accomplshed by only one member of the trinity. We must remember that they are distinct, and yet they are one. In the OT, we see the Spirit in the second verse of the Bible, hovering over what would be creation; we see Him leading the Israelites through the desert and in the Ark of the Covenant. We see Jesus as well in the OT: He is the angel of the LORD that is worshipped, and some have argued that He is the High Priest Melchizadek, to whom Abraham offers his tithes (who else would the patriarch of Israel offer his tithes to but God Himself?) (Gen. 14). In the NT, we see all three at the baptism of Jesus (Matt. 3), and of course, we know that all three are at work in the Church today.

One of my professors at school made a bold statement recently: It was the Holy Spirit who rose Jesus from the dead. It sounds crazy at first, but actually fits quite nicely with concepts presented in the gospels and Acts. The Spirit was active in Jesus' miraculous virgin birth, to be sure; he was present and active in Jesus' baptism (in the form of a dove); he Himself led Christ into the desert to be tempted, and gave Him the strength to resist temptation (Matt. 4); and He was no doubt active in Christ's ministry and miraculous signs. You get this sense that Jesus, as the divine God-man, was truly quite dependent upon the Holy Spirit. I say this not to diminish His divinity, but to stress His humanity. Peter proclaims at the Pentecost, "God has raised Jesus to life, and we are witnesses to the fact" (Acts 2:32).

"And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ will also grant life to your mortal bodies thorugh his Spirit, who lives in you" (Romans 8:11).

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of feeling like a completely worthless, ever-failing Christian. I'm tired of feeling defeated by sin and by the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that are thrown my way. It's all sort of coming to a head for me now, and I'm finally realizing that I am incapable of winning this battle.

But the Spirit of God is capable of anything. And this Spirit who hovered over the unformed earth, who delievered and led His people from Egypt, who made the Jericho walls to crumble, who destroyed the LORD's enemies with Gideon's 300 men, who brought dry bones to life and made them into an army, who was actively involved in the virgin birth, who delivered Jesus from temptation, who led Christ to the cross, who raised Him from the dead, who is described throughout Scripture as a powerful, powerful being-this Spirit lives in me.

There is hope in the trinity, for in Christ, we are ingrafted into the story they are telling together.

The Art of Conversing

2007-02-17T23:14:00.000-08:00

When I was little, I started my very own club. This is an impressive accomplishment, I want you to know. Starting a club takes time, energy, and dedication- all of which I had. My club was a secret club, which means I had to work extra hard to not let others outside the club know about it.

Have you ever spent time with Jesus, and felt as though you've been the only one talking? This happens to me quite often. I plop down the Word of God, flip to a random passage, and try to find spiritual encouragement and nourishment, as if the Bible is some magical book that must be rubbed like the genie's bottle to get the desired result. I somehow think that the power is in the black words on the page, and if I stare at them long enough, I will understand them.

Spirituality is a relationship.

One of the worst lies we can believe as Christians is that we are alone. Jesus promised to send His Spirit to guide and comfort His believers, and yet we act as though the third person of the trinity simply does not exist. I've had my share of spiritual monologues, where I feel I have been the only one talking, and I'm tired of it. I'm burnt out, and I have nothing left to say.

Spirituality is a conversation.

I rarely listen to God, due to the fact that most of my conversations with Him are filled with my words only. God says in Ecclesiastes that we ought to be silent before Him; standing in awe of Him, our words ought to be few. I think if we were really in love with Jesus, we would be in awe; we would silence our hearts in the wonder of His love.

The truth is, our version of spirituality seems to be more about us than God. If it was about God, we would be silent and listen. But we usually end up more concerned with our own affairs than what God is concerned with. I've learned that spirituality is hard. It takes time and discipline. The Bible was not meant to be read as a 5 minute daily devotional to brighten our day. Spirituality isn't neat and clean cut. It is often ugly.

When we aren't the ones talking, we hear things we might not want to hear.

The club I started when I was a kid was a club I had by myself underneath the covers when I went to bed. I was the only member. I talked to myself. I distinctly remember feeling awfully alone.

We cannot do spirituality alone. It isn't a matter of reading the right verse or saying the right magical spell. Spirituality is about communing with the God of the universe. Let Him speak.

Confessions of a Cynic

2007-02-17T19:23:00.000-08:00

(An article I wrote for my school newspaper)

It’s because we love ourselves.

I’ve thought about it a lot lately, and that’s the only reasonable answer I have come to so far concerning cynicism. Whether it be manifested through public complaints, quiet distrust expressed behind closed doors, or the soft and unspoken language of our hearts, cynicism is an outworking of self-interest. Regardless of its expression, we have a serious problem on our hands that must be dealt with sooner or later.

Covenant College is perhaps the most cynical institution I have been a part of in my life, and I fear that I only add to the problem. I feel it as I walk down my hall, as I read the latest edition of The Bagpipe, as I eat in the Great Hall, as I sit in chapel. I feel it deep in my bones because it surrounds me. It is a part of me, slowly hacking away at my joy and my life, a cancer spreading throughout my body.

When we joined this community, we entered into an ongoing conversation that is necessary and proper for an institution such as ours. Whether we realize it or not, this conversation is shaping who we are and how we see the world. In fact, we could use more real life discussion, as Ron Brown recently suggested in chapel. Issues like the War in Iraq, abortion, in vitro fertilization, and the abuse of women in Spain ought to all be addressed, either formally or informally. It’s how we learn: probing, questioning, pondering fresh insights. We have entered the most intense molding period of our lives, and are thus questioning everything we encounter. We are learning how to articulate what it is that we believe. We are learning how to think for ourselves.

And these are good things. Reformed and always reforming. Sola Scriptura. In all things, Christ…

But are we missing the big picture?

What is the purpose of having a conversation in the first place? We have a conversation because we want to see an intended outcome. We are impassioned, being caught up in issues bigger than ourselves, and we work towards a set goal to accomplish what we feel needs to be improved or changed…at least, that’s how it should be.

Something is missing at Covenant though; something important that makes all the difference between ours and a healthy community with healthy dialogue. The problem I think we are encountering is that we are more concerned with being right and proving our point than we are with the issues at hand. More importantly, we are more concerned with ourselves than we are the gospel that we claim. It seems that we are missing the ability to love people in the midst of adamant disagreement, a direct result of impure hearts. The conversation is not the problem—our attitudes and mindsets are the problem. We say we are concerned for God and His Kingdom here on earth, but the way we talk proves otherwise. We care about being right.

The truth is, I’m a narcissist, and that drives my cynicism. I’m upset about the cynicism at Covenant College, but if the problem were resolved, would I be satisfied? Of course not. I’d find something else to be upset about, and then I would write an article about it so people could hear what I have to say, because my opinions matter. Honestly, I love the fact that you’re reading my article right now—it makes me feel important. Do we eagerly desire the bringing about of God’s shalom on this earth and at Covenant College, or do we just love hearing ourselves talk?

We really believe we are the standard.

I think it’s possible to think about God and forget Him at the same time. I’ve been part of one too many discussions concerning worship theology, philosophy, and methodology, during which my heart is usually not at all actually concerned with loving or honoring God. I can’t count the number of times I’ve either said or thought, “I really think that worship was great today, except I didn’t like…” And thus my contribution to the conversation has not been an edifying suggestion or critique, but rather a cynical and destructive remark which has only served to raise others’ awareness to my preferences.

But do we ever simply enjoy Jesus? Or are we too busy critiquing the music or speaker in chapel or church that we forget about Him in the process? Are we too busy analyzing the way a friend said something that we miss the incredible amount of truth they just spoke into our lives? Are we too busy pondering our next response in a conversation that we don’t even hear what the other person said? Are we too busy calling passionate believers self-righteous and fake because we’re intimidated by them? Intimidated by the fact that they understand the gospel in a way we can’t even fathom: they deeply love Jesus.

Sometimes I’m scared of people who get it, because they make me look bad, a threat to my reputation and value. I turn cynical to hide my fear, drawing back and allowing a quiet distrust to grow in my heart.

I know what you’re thinking. And you’re right. Our friends ought to speak truth in love, in a non-arrogant manner; our fellow students ought not say and do self-righteous things. Worship should be well thought out, not just thrown together (our student leaders do a phenomenal job preparing music); the speaker ought to be well-spoken, articulating the Word of God. Indeed, all these things must be done in a Scripturally sound way that is acceptable to God. I agree.

But God wants our hearts, and they are far from Him.

I have this recurring image in my mind of Jesus standing on the stage of the chapel, speaking to us students. Except he doesn’t have a three point sermon on the theological implications of the Sermon on the Mount—He’s weeping. And through His tears He keeps repeating,

You’ve missed the big picture.
You honor me with your lips, but your hearts are far from me.
You just don’t get it.

We miss it because we don’t want to see it. We want what we want, and our wants turn us into cynics.

It’s because we love ourselves.

And the only fitting response is repentance. We have spit upon the glory of the Almighty God with our self-interests, yet we continue to respond with complacency. If we only had a vision of a life that surpasses our own, of a conversation that is bigger than ourselves, of a people so changed by the power of the gospel that they bleed humility and love. May we lock ourselves in our rooms begging Jesus for forgiveness and healing until it happens. May we weep over our pride that we may be restored, for there is hope in the cross.

I Died for My--

2007-01-28T09:30:00.000-08:00

“I died for beauty”, she said.[1]

I didn’t know how to respond, uncomfortably staring at my feet, hoping she would soon change the subject. We were six feet below though, so I couldn’t escape her questioning glance, as moss slowly covered her lips.

“And you?”

“For my…beliefs.” I was not confident, my voice bearing witness. The statement was empty and I knew it; something seemed superficial. Could there have possibly been more? “Belief in—

“I for truth,” I heard a man reply.

“What is truth?” I asked, inquiring his doctri—

“Did you not die for truth?”

Truth.

It was then I realized the fatal error to which I had fallen prey. I died for belief, not truth. Therein lay the disconnect I had felt deep in my bones before the conversation began. I had not lived for truth, and thus could never have died for it.

“I died… I believed… I believe…

…in myself.”

I wept.

[1] Emily Dickinson, “I Died for Beauty”

Confessions of a Narcissist

2007-01-15T17:41:00.000-08:00

No one loves Joel Piedt more than Joel Piedt.

I'm convinced of this statement's truth. I was thinking of Narcissus's story a few days ago, the Greek myth about the beautiful man who fell in love with his own reflection, and ended up dying next to a pond staring at himself. It's a depressing/disturbing story for a number of reasons on a number of levels, but I'd rather not state the obvious.

What saddens me is that the story of Narcissus just so happens to be the story of Joel Piedt, minus the part about the guy being beautiful. I was on a road trip this summer, hiking in places like Zion National Park and the Grand Canyon. There was one time that I was hiking up a beautiful cliff called Angel's Landing, and I found myself lost in wonder.

In myself.

This is no lie. I was so wrapped up in a position I had just received, all I could think of was, "I wonder what people will think of me!" I thought about this for hours as I hiked, oblivious to the glory around me. And then it hit me.

I wonder how much I missed that day. If I wasn't so self-consumed, how much more glory would I have experienced surrounding me?

I do the same thing to God every day.

Every day.

I long to be caught up in something bigger than myself. I want to be captured by it. In Revelation, the elders are so caught up in worship, they fall facedown. They get it. They get the big picture. This is an expression similar to what Jesus meant when He said that we should take up our crosses and follow Him, dying to ourselves.

I want to be so caught up in Jesus' glory and beauty, that I forget myself, even if but a moment. The story of God is bigger than life, and I find that hard to believe most of the time. It's bigger than any concert, any sunset, any person, any piece of art, any movie, any book, any philosophy, any scenic view, or anything that raptures us from ourselves.

And I still miss it every day.

I'm growing tired of my reflection, but not tired enough.

God is so _ _ _ _?

2007-01-02T16:00:00.000-08:00

Why is there so much suffering in this world? So much pain?

God is great, God, is good...

If He is great and powerful enough to do something about our problems, why doesn't He? We have a few options here: Perhaps God is sovereign over the world, but is not a good God. Or maybe He is good and wants our best, but is not capable of changing the course of events the earth experiences. Either of these options seem like they could solve the issue at hand; there is absolutely no way that God is both great and good. Because in the Bible I read of a sovereign God; and in the world I see sorrow and sin and death and grief. I don't know how these two facts could possibly work hand in hand. Unless...

Throughout the Bible, God is constantly comforting His people. In the Old Testament, the Israelites go into exile. They are literally torn from their homes, families, trades, and most importantly, their temple. This might not sound too significant. But we must understand how the Israelites thought. They believed they could only worship God in His temple, where He dwelled. So when they were in a foreign land, they believed they could not worship Him. And God comforts them: "I am with you. I am Immanuel. I know the plans I have for you I am sovereign. I am the LORD over all the nations." This must have been refreshing to hear as the people of God. They could worship Him anywhere, in any context.

But it must have been frustrating.

You mean you are in control God? And I'm still in exile? I'm still in chains? Are you really good? I have a teacher at school who says this will be the question we continually stumble upon as we live out our Christian lives: Is God really a good God?

Jesus comforts His believers in the New Testament much like God does in the Old: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat and drink; or about your body, what you will wear" (Matthew 6:25). Jesus goes on to say that because God feeds the birds of the air, we can be sure that he will take care of us.

So there we have it. The world will be fed, clothed and cared for by a sovereign and loving God. No one will ever go without.

I wish I could say this was true. But it's simply not. I recently read that 16,000 children around the world die every day due to hunger related causes. That's one child every five seconds. In the time it took you to read this paragraph, a child has died.

Do you feel the tension? How does God feel about all the pain? What does He think of the suffering?

"About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, 'Eloi , Eloi, lama sabachthani?'-- which means 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'"

That's what God thinks. Ultimately, the sovereignty of God and the suffering in the world must be understood in the context of a suffering Savior on a cross. God cares, because He has suffered in every we have through Jesus Christ (Hebrews 2:18). Through Him, death loses it's sting, and through Him we find hope in the unseen (2 Cor. 4; Romans 8). He meant what He said in Matthew 6, but it must be understood in the light of the cross, and in light of history as a whole.

2 Corinthians 2:14 says that we are lead in triumphal procession in Christ. This happens because of the work of Christ--but only in part now. One day, we will be seated with Jesus in the heavenlies. Christians are dying now, but death has lost its sting because of the cross. We have a hope in future glory. This future glory is the real triumphal procession.

If you haven't already, you will one day ask yourself if God is good. Look at the cross.

God is great.

God is good.

Carnival: The Fun Ship

2006-12-29T18:41:00.000-08:00

I went on a cruise this week.

Absurd.

Oh it was fun; in fact, I loved it. However, I thoroughly enjoyed watching the human being's capacity for entertainment. There is no limit.

On a Carnival ship called "Fascination," there was a pool, spa, gym, casino, cafe, club, sports bar, 2 fancy dining areas, buffet dining area, library, arcade, basketball court, putt-putt course, running track, internet lounge, art gallery, and even a sweet teen disco dancing club for 15 to 17 year olds called "O2."

Hot. And that's not even including Key West or Mexico.

And yet a guy I met had the audicity to tell me he was bored because there was "nothing to do."

Oh God, may I find beauty in the simple. In the mundane, may I find you, the source of my joy.

Politicians, Theologians, and Jesus Christ

2006-12-20T17:07:00.000-08:00

Every weeknight, the fighting is viewed by thousands. Using rhetoric skills honed after years of study and debate, these fine-polished, well-clothed political guru's go at it in front of a couple cameras in a TV studio. I can't stand watching this, but my family members love political television, so I am forced almost every night to sit with my mouth shut and my spirit anguished.

Indeed, take your pick of any political talk show, be it CNN, Fox News,or MSNBC, and there you will find the depraved human heart at its best. I am not saying that all politicians or talk show hosts are corrupt; however, I have to laugh when I see grown men and women fighting like 12 year olds. They are all screaming loudly, trying to be heard over the next guy. Do they really think that what they have to say is the end all of truth? Have they captured what our country has been missing for hundreds of years? Do they have the answers that will solve our problems? They believe so. The only problem is that the guy across the table adamantly disagrees, arrogantly holding to his own version of truth which will solve the world's problems.

Lately I have been reading different Christian authors who act the same way. One theologian will write, "This is who God is." And then the next one will come along and write, "Well, this theologian is actually a moron. This is who God is." Repeat these 2 steps ad infinitum, and you have a pretty acurate history of the Church.

Ok, it's really not that simple, but I think that our history is not really as clean cut as we would like it to be. Does each one really think they have stumbled upon the answers that the Church has been missing for thousands of years?

But it still happens today.

In many ways, this rhetoric style conversation between Christians is a good thing. Serving as a means of accountability, Christian thinking and debating keeps us on our toes, and keeps us in line with Scripture.

Indeed, revelation is a communal happening. No one individual has the corner on truth.

Which is exactly why our arrogant rhetoric is so out of line. When did Christians ever get the audacity to make such confident remarks concerning Church government or the character of God? I am not saying that we must be spineless human beings who do not possess any real belief; indeed, we must hold to the gospel with conviction.

Yet when it comes to transcendent issues, we must realize the gravity of the matters of which we speak. We must speak in humility- the type of humility one exercises when disarming an explosive, acting with steadiness and confidence, yet realizing the seriousness of any given mistake. God used to kill false prophets.

If Christian theologians and philosophers were handling bombs rather than the Word of God, the world would have been blown to smitherines by now.

Handle Scripture gently.

Stop debating.

Stop fighting.

Listen.

Others have answers we are missing.

Truth is found communally, not individually.

At the end of the day, who was right and wrong will fade away. We will forget such trivial matters as we are enthralled by the glory of the LORD.

We pray that God's will would be done on earth as it is done in heaven, and yet we continue fighting.

Lessons From an Unspiritual Learner

2006-12-17T13:11:00.000-08:00

I am a slow learner, but this is what I have learned thus far about spirituality:

Spirituality is a process.

Spirituality is a long process.

Spirituality is not neat, or cut and dry.

Spirituality is mysterious.

Spirituality is not easy.

Spirituality hurts. It cuts deep into the inner-most part of our beings.

Spirituality is not glamorous.

Spirituality cannot be done alone. It needs community.

Spirituality is a relationship.

Spirituality is a conversation, not a monologue.

Spirituality is about being in love with Jesus.

Spirtuality is accomplished by the Holy Spirit.

The more spiritual I become, the more unspiritual I realize I am.

I am not spiritual.

Why Jesus and I Have Different Tastes in Brides

2006-07-12T21:14:00.000-07:00

When I think of certain qualities I would like to have in a wife one day, an unfaithful whore is usually not the first one that comes to mind. Rightfully so, because I think that might get somewhat frustrating after a while, the whole being maried to a prostitute thing. It's not like I sit down and think about this everyday or anything like that. But with the little thought I have given it, I've come to the conclusion that it wouldn't be the kind of thing I want to pursue.

I love the fact that God tells his love for us through stories and not just formulas. I think it's quite significant actually. He doesn't give us five easy steps to salvation; He paints a beautiful picture of it. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words, or something like that. Tucked deeply within the story of the Old Testament is an intriguing book called Hosea, where Hosea is told to go marry and be faithful to a whore named Gomar. It's a beautiful story when you see it in light of Christ's unending and relentless love for His bride, the Church.

I think every whore in the Bible is a picture of the Church, because they all find redemption somehow. This is the Church: disgustingly dirty, and then made clean. What's interesting to me is that Jesus would want Her as His bride. We a broken and filthy body, and yet the King of the universe has decided that He wants us. It's like the Prince of a country going down to the local stripjoint to find His bride. He looks at her with love in His eyes, and says, "I choose you."

If there is anyone in the Bible that I wouldn't want to be, it would be Hosea. I couldn't imagine how painful it must have been for him to go into to the city with money in his hands to buy back his wife. People probably heard him in the streets yelling for her to come back, and I'll bet he had tears in his eyes.

I once liked a girl in High School who kept going back and forth with her feelings between me and a few other guys, and that was one of the most painful experiences in my life. I would pour out my heart to her, only to have her turn on me for someone else within weeks. And this happened multiple times. I felt as though something deep inside of me was ripped out, and right as the wound began to heal, it would happen again.

And I began to wonder if Jesus feels like this when we betray Him. Oh how passionate we are for Him at church, conferences, or mission trips, only to stab Him in the back a few weeks later by turning to other things we find more interesting. And like Hosea, He comes running down the road with tears in His eyes and the richest currency in His hands to buy us back, His own blood. Of course He does it with joy, but I'll bet it still hurts. Love comes with a price.

What excites me is that one day the Church will be suitable for Christ Jesus. As believers, we are not to be unequally yoked (2 Cor. 6:14), and the same is true for Christ. He cannot be paired with a bride less righteous than Himself. And so now we are being refined and purified for Him; on that wedding day, when we walk down the aisle, the glimmer in Christ's eyes will be a reflection of His spotless bride, made completely pure for Him.

So if you look at the Church and don't like what you see, you're not alone. Don't be discouraged friends; what great hope there is for us. It's not yet time for the wedding. He who began a good work in us will complete what He started (Phil. 1:6). Behold, He is making all things new, even His unfaithful bride.

The Mysterious Spirit of Christ: Why I Believe Rafiki is a Prophet

2006-07-06T22:32:00.000-07:00

I love the Lion King. I could watch it every day for the rest of my life and not get sick of it. It's one of those classics, the kind of movie that will go down in history. Few would agree with me in saying that it is the best film ever created, and I think that's very sad, because I know that it is. There is no doubt in my mind about it. I would venture to even say it is the greatest work of art in the history of mankind. Period. I love it. I also love God. And I find it ridiculous that I just used the same word to describe a movie featuring talking animals and the sovereign God of the universe. But that is beside the point.

Towards the end of the movie, there is an incredible scene where Rafiki (the crazy monkey with a blue jabooty) shows Simba that his father Mufassa is alive. He brings him to a pond and tells him to look in; Simba is dismayed though because he only sees a reflection of himself. As the monkey stirs the waters with the tip of his finger, he responds, "Looook haaauder. You see? He lives in you." Simba looks down to find not his own reflection, but that of his father, the king.

The fact of the matter is, the Lion King taught me a deep truth about the mysterious Spirit of Christ. The whole Spirit thing is kind of strange when you think about it, you know? Jesus says He is gonna send a spirit (of Himself) back to earth to live inside His believers and guide them. These things have always confused me, but lately I've been especially inrigued by the odd words of Jesus. He says in John 5:41, "I do not accept praise from men, but I know you. I know that you do not have the love of God in your hearts." Oddly enough, this passage actually shed an incredible amount of light on this subject for me. Let me explain.

Jesus is talking to Nicodemus in John 3, explaining what it means to live eternally. He says something quite odd in verse 6: "Flesh gives birth to flesh , but the Spirit gives birth to spirit." I thought about that for a while, and I came to the conclusion that Jesus lives inside of us. Not terribly profound, yet it hit me really hard when I realized it. The Spirit (of Christ; aka, the Holy Spirit) literally gave birth to Christ in us just as our mothers gave birth to us. And the process of becoming holy is Jesus growing inside of us, consuming more and more of our being.

I realize that this sounds odd, but please hear me out. I become increasingly convinced that this is true, and I think the Apostle Paul defends the concept in Galatians 2:20, "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me." The process of us becoming holy is not us getting better; it is Christ in us becoming greater. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace...you know the rest. So if you've ever experienced true spiritual joy, it is literally the joy of Christ (the happiest being in the universe) in you being joyful. If you've ever truly loved someone, it is literally Jesus loving that person through you. I am convinced that we can't do these things on our own.

Let's take this one step further. We are finite. I was born in 1986 and will be done with life sometime within the next 60 years or so. Christ, on the other hand, is infinite, with no beginning or end. This is significant, because our eternal life (a phrase that has become quite trite within Christian circles) is literally Christ living forever in us. Amazing when you really think about it, isn't it? We as humans do not have the capacity to live forever, yet Christ does; so when He is alive in us, we too live forever.

Let me bring these thoughts full circle to the verse I spoke of at the beginning. Jesus says He doesn't accept any praise from men. I thought this was very strange, and even a little rude; but it makes perfect sense when we put all these Biblical truths together. Jesus doesn't accept praise from men, because we are unable to sincerely praise Him. Only those with changed hearts (the Spirit of Christ now living in them) can truly worship him. For it is the Spirit of Christ in us that adores and worships the Father and Christ Himself, for only He (the Spirit) understands how infinitely worthy of praise They are. We can't see this glory on our own. In this way, we may boast in nothing, giving full credit to Jesus Christ. May we say with John the Baptist: "[Jesus] must become greater; I must become less" (John 3:30).

Look harder my friends. You see, He lives in you.

What Bicycles Taught Me About Faith

2006-07-03T11:51:00.000-07:00

When I was little I used to ride my bike a lot. I would ride all around my neighborhood and even down the road if I was feeling crazy. I would think a lot too. When you're riding a bike, thinking about life sort of comes naturally, because your mind has nothing else to do. I heard a lot about faith when I was a kid, especially growing up in the Church. I wanted to test it all out, you know, with the bike. Sometimes I would close my eyes while riding on the sidewalk, and pray that God would keep me from falling on my face. I could only do it for a few seconds though, because I got scared easily. A few times I ran into the plants and scraped up my legs. It hurt.

I've kind of doubted the whole faith thing since those days. I mean, I still believe in Jesus and that what He says is true. But I don't know if I really believe Him, you know? He says in Matthew 17 that if we have faith the size of a mustard seed, we can move mountains. Now I realize that Jesus is speaking figuratively here, but this statement really surprised me when I read it recently. Have I become so formulaic in my faith and way of thinking that I don't leave room for God's power? Have I become so jaded by all the bike rides in my life that I no longer really believe in the power of faith?

I'm reading a book now about a guy who was integral in starting up the house Church movement in China. It's almost hard to read, because I feel so convicted by a man of such strong faith, yet I am encouraged by it at the same time. In China, people are getting saved by the thousands, people are seeing visions that come true within hours; miracles and healings and many other ridiculous things that I've never seen with my own two eyes are happening. In the past I would have written these things off as false spirituality, emotional worship, and that sort of thing. But I am beginning to see that all things really are possible with God. Oh how we need to just open our eyes to see the work He is doing!

God says in Habakkuk 1:5, "For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told." I realize this verse was not written to 21st Century Americans, but was intended for Habakkuk in his day; yet the principle remains. God is on the move. His Spirit is powerful and will accomplish the purposes of the One who sent Him. Oh how I long for faith! The kind of faith that Jesus says moves mountains; the kind of faith that sees miracles and visions for the sake of the Kingdom; the kind of faith that takes God at His word when He says He is going to do something unbelievable in our day.

God, what will you do? Do it even now Lord. Revive us. Forgive us for doubting. Give us faith as small as a mustard seed.

Learning to Live What I Teach: Finding Our Value in Christ

2006-06-30T13:18:00.001-07:00

Have you ever wondered why we try so hard to impress other people? It really is amazing when you think about it. I have spent a good portion of the last 19 years trying to get people to like me, think I'm cool, approve of me. I guess I believe this will finally tell me who I really am, as if people's opinions create my identity. And though I've heard a million times that I am to find my value and worth in the fact that Jesus loves me, it seems as though nothing has changed. It's like I thrive off of praise from others, and this tells me who I am. In the words of Donald Miller, we use others to redeem us to the world.

I have thought a lot about this lately. And these thoughts sort of came to a climax last week, mostly because I decided to teach on this topic at Sunday School, but also because this desire for approval is at an all-time high for me. You would think this wouldn't be the case, because I just left High School last year, graduating to become a real person apart from that kind of drama; but my love of self has really kicked in lately, and I'm not quite sure what caused it. I hate it though. I think this part of being a human really sucks.

I took a class on the principles of sociology in the spring, which I found very interesting. One of the things we studied was Symbolic Interactionism, which pretty much says that us humans send out symbols to people, and how they are responded to is how we perceive ourselves. I think that this is true. When I first heard this concept, something in my heart said "this is true," because I do it all the time. For example, I tell a joke to somebody, and depending on how they respond is how I will then view myself. If they laugh, I will think of myself as a funny person; and if they don't, then I'm not funny. "I am what I think you think I am." This happened to me a few months ago. I got a band together to play a show on the chapel lawn of my college, and I'm pretty sure (from comments made) that we absolutely sucked. And since then I have been telling myself that I'm no good, I'm a lousy musician, that no one wants to hear my stupid songs except my dad who is going deaf, and that sort of thing. I think that this is very sad, and I'm pretty sure that it is a result of the fall.

Before the fall, God told Adam and Eve who they were: they were beautiful beings created in God's image, and they found their worth in this. After the fall, God was no longer there to tell them this, so they tried to get that same value from others. The problem is, others can't tell us who we are; only God can. So when Jesus came back, he was re-establishing that broken relationship, thus inviting us to find our value in God's love once again. He says in John 15:9, "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you." I think this is one of the most profound verses in the Bible.

I was preparing this lesson for the Junior High and High School youth group, when I get a text message from one of my fellow interns saying he wouldn't be there the next day. My immediate thought was: He won't be there to hear this great lesson! There goes one compliment. My second thought was: Joel, you're an idiot. Prone to wander.

So I wonder what it looks like to really believe that Jesus loves me, and not care what others think. I think it would be quite life changing, really. It would be beautiful. To live life for the approval of one: God. So what if people do or don't find me attractive? I'm made in the image of God. So what if people think I'm no good at writing music? God gave me these vocal chords, and I'm making a joyful noise for him. How different would life be if I defined myself in the love of God? I would finally be free to live.