The Price of Winning the Argument

How much is it worth to have the last word?  Or perhaps, I should ask it more accurately.  How much is it worth to prove that you are right and that the other person is wrong?  It doesn't matter how big or how small the matter may be, if you press things to the point where you prove that you are right and they are wrong, what have you gained and, more importantly, what price have you paid to achieve your victory?

Let's look first at what was gained.  You proved you were right.  Again, it doesn't really matter what the conversation was, what the disagreement or argument was over, you have proven that your point was the correct point.  You now stand more self-assured that you knew the right answer, you stood up for the right answer, and you used your knowledge and insight to prove that you were correct.  Nice work.  The only thing is, notice how many times I wrote the word "you" in this paragraph.  Pushing the point of the argument to where you prove you are right has really only had a benefit for you.  You've grown in your pride, and perhaps even arrogance.  You've shown yourself superior.

Which brings us to the other side.  What price have you paid?  What has been lost in you proving that you are correct?  Well, the other person didn't win.  Again, whether it was a large or small matter, you've now "ranked" yourself over them in some way.  Unless you are someone who takes pride in making other people feel smaller and less significant, that really isn't a win.  You've lost them, to some extent.  You've taken away from their worth and value.  You've exalted yourself and humbled them, which means that you have likely also lost some relationship currency.  They may not want to have similar conversations with you, if you are only going to prove that you are right and they are wrong.

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul wrote that the Philippian Christians were to consider others as more significant than themselves.  Winning the argument does just the opposite.  Now, to be sure, there are times where it is fully appropriate to win the argument.  If my kid wants to run in the street where cars are driving, I'm going to win that argument.  However, I only do so because there is a greater value at work, their safety.  If they want to color with red markers instead of blue markers, why do I need to win that argument?  Just because blue is my favorite color?  Just because the sky is blue, not green?

I admit that I have often pushed to win arguments in my life.  However, life experience and God's Word have gone a long way in showing me that winning the argument isn't the great joy it may seem that it should be.  I've learned, instead, to ask questions.  I've learned to listen a lot more, and speak a lot less.  Sure, there are times when my ego wants to win, and I even give in to that desire at times.  But I have also seen the Spirit calm that need within me, seeing what Paul wrote to the Corinthians, that it is sometimes better to be wronged than to get my way.

There is always a cost to winning.  Sure, we have to deal with substantive issues at time, but even then, when we need to be right, we should strive to do so in respectful, gentle ways.  I think most people would value someone who would be right, but would be so in a gentle, respectful way.  I hope that you will be guided by that next time you feel the need to be "right". 

The Power of the Question

I was recently reading through a book in which the author mentioned that he started reading through the Gospel accounts with the goal of counting the number of questions that Jesus asked.  He said that he stopped at somewhere around 300 questions.  Think about that for a moment.  One of the things Jesus did repeatedly was ask questions.  More often than not, He also didn't answer them, but rather allowed the person to work through the answer for themselves.  (By the way, I've also read that letting others answer the question for themselves is just about the most effective way for them to not only learn, but actually retain that information.)

Over the past number of years, I have to say that I have noticed myself moving toward asking questions far more than answering questions, or inserting my thoughts into a situation.  Sure, I might have some knowledge or even wisdom to apply to a situation, and there may be a time where it is suitable to provide that.  However, far more often, it is most beneficial to ask others to work through their thoughts and assumptions on things, to see what they are thinking and, perhaps more importantly, why they are thinking that.  That begins to tap into the power of the question.

I realize that this really isn't anything all that profound.  Yet, it also goes against so much of our human nature.  We want to think that we have something to contribute to the conversation.  We have knowledge that fits the situation, and it just seems appropriate to provide it.  We have wisdom regarding what is happening, and it just seems appropriate to share it for the benefit of others.  Yet, how often have you provided knowledge or wisdom, only to have the other person do something else, regardless of how good or right your knowledge or wisdom was?  Just like we think we have something to contribute, we could also benefit from remembering that they also think that, and somewhere in the back of their mind, they may also think that their way of thinking of the situation is superior to ours.

To ask questions means that we put aside our human tendency to insert our thoughts into the situation. That, my friends, is a hard thing to do. It involves a very intentional effort.  It means that we do as Paul wrote in his letter to the Philippians and consider others as more significant than ourselves.  Truthfully, we don't want to do that.  That's why the power of the question so often goes untapped.

I admit that I am still learning this.  I've been coached by a wonderful man of God, who introduced me to much of the power of the question.  I've seen repeatedly in my reading of God's Word how often God asks a question, looking for His people to consider their answer.  And I have grown to see that God's Spirit is at work in ways that I can hardly imagine, and sometimes I have to ask before I see how He is bringing this person before me at this time to contribute something that I would not have seen if I hadn't simply asked for their input.

The power of the question.  What is keeping you from making use of this powerful thing?  How do you see God using questions to grow His people in knowledge, faith, and maturity?  

On Motivation

"For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore, all have died..."  2 Corinthians 5:14

What drives you and motivates you?  In some ways, this is an easy question to answer.  When you wake up in the morning, an empty tummy drives you to breakfast.  A full bladder drives you to the bathroom.  With a desire to approach the day anew, you may be motivated to shower, shave, and get ready for the day.  When you are tired in the evening, your droopy eyes and the darkness motivate you to sleep.

Other times, however, discerning this is not so easily accomplished.  What drives you or motivates you in how you approach your work?  Think about it for a moment.  It could be the need for a paycheck, which motivates you to work, but not perhaps to put your greatest effort into it.  You could be motivated to please those who determine your pay level, and so you are motivated to do the things that you get "graded" for, but not a lot else.  You could be motivated because you feel particularly called to what you do, and therefore, you go above and beyond what is expected.  And even within these, you may find a variety of different motivations for the different tasks you face each day.

We can apply this question to practically everything in life.  Your interactions with your family, with your friends, with your neighbors.  What motivates you to buy the food you buy, the car you drive, the house in which you live, and so on down the line.  Perhaps you have reflected and thought about it, or perhaps not.  The question of what drives us is likely not one we consider often enough.

In the verse above, Paul is mentioning that he is driven and motivated by what Jesus had accomplished for him in His death and resurrection.  The New International Version of the Bible even puts it like this.  The love of Christ compels us.  For Paul, the love that God has revealed in Jesus is the motivating factor behind everything.  The work he would do, whether as apostle or as tentmaker, would be motivated by Christ's death and resurrection for him.  The people he would engage with, he would do so because he was motivated by Christ's death and resurrection for him and for them.  The places he would visit, and even the end he would meet, would all be motivated by the love of God in Christ Jesus crucified and raised from the dead.

Think back now to the questions that were posed above.  What motivates you in those different things?  Sure, the love of God in Christ Jesus may be behind some of them, but you might not think about it for others.  How does the love of Christ motivate you, say, in the car you purchase?  The home in which you live?  How you interact with your coworkers or neighbors?  What role does the love of Christ play in how you approach your work, or your family?

You may notice that I'm not answering these questions.  These are yours to answer, and if we are honest with ourselves, we may not like how we answer them.  We may grow in our realization that much of what we do is not motivated or driven by the love of God in Christ Jesus.  That is uncomfortable for us to think about, and yet, it may be the very thing we need to consider so we start to find the love of God in Christ Jesus motivating us even more.

For example, how can the love of Christ motivate us in the house we purchase?  Well, it could be that we consider being good stewards of the gifts God has given us.  It could be that we consider how our house and home could be a place where we advance God's kingdom, which then impacts the type and style of home we purchase.  Say you are motivated by Christ's love to host.  Then you likely will choose a house where hosting is easily accomplished.  Say you are motivated by Christ's love to raise children, your own, foster, adopted, etc.  You choose a place where you can more easily accomplish this.  Or you are motivated to live in a place where you can live generously toward others financially, and so you choose a smaller, more spartan house.  You see how the love of Christ can motivate even something like the house you buy.

Motivation is not an easily discernible thing.  I would argue that we do not consciously know what motivates us in what we do, and so taking the time to reflect on that motivation could prove to be a helpful thing.  It may show us things about ourselves we don't like, but that's when we fall back in thankfulness to God's truth that one has died for all, and in our baptism, we have died with Him.  Likewise, we have been raised with Him through those same baptismal waters.  

A God of Order and Chaos

Okay, so perhaps the title of the post is overstating it a bit.  Perhaps we should think of God as a God of order and disorder.  Order is clear as you read through the Scriptures.  A set pattern for creation.  The simple way that we humans are made and function within the world He created for us.  If you read through Exodus, you see a God of order at work, issuing things like the manner of life He expects of His people and the construction of His tabernacle on earth.

Yet, you also cannot read through the Scriptures without getting a sense that God is very much like the way C. S. Lewis describes Aslan, the Christ figure in the Narnia series.  "He's not a tame lion."  "Is he safe?"  "No, but He's good."  Just read through Jesus' words to Nicodemus in John 3 and you get a picture of a God who is above order.  "The wind/breath/spirit blows where it will, and you do not know where it is coming from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit." And yes, I do believe that Jesus leaves it very ambiguous on whether He is talking about the wind, our breath, or the Spirit of God.  It proves the point.  God is a God of great order, and yet, God also at times seems extraordinarily disorderly.

Perhaps that is mostly due to the fact that we tend to focus on one side of this equation, or the other.  We see God's order, and we feel comfortable with that order.  We look for that order in all things, even in the way that God's Spirit works to create faith and draw people to Himself.  So we set about designing an orderly way, say, of evangelism, where you follow a script, memorize verses, and the like.  Yet, then we are surprised when that doesn't work the way we expect it might.  If God is a God of order, why doesn't He do things the same way every time?  Why don't we organize our worship times to be exactly the same everywhere?  And yet, we see God working through things that so often seem disorderly.

Or, we go the other way. God's Spirit cannot be predicted or confined, so we aim to "leave things to the Spirit."  Why have order to, say, a worship service if God's Spirit works in ways other than a set worship order?  Why think through a way of engaging someone with our faith in God if God's Spirit is simply going to do the leading?  So we strive for disorder, and yet are surprised that God works through regular ways that He Himself indicates do what He says (like baptism and the Lord's Supper).

We find it difficult to hold this tension.  That shouldn't be surprising, after all, we are a creation out of step with God and His creational aspirations for us.  When we expect order, God may respond with order, or He may respond in ways unanticipated.  When we expect that God will work in many and various and unusual ways, God responds with a call to observe how He created and wills for things to operate in this messy world.  God perfectly holds in tension that which we are unable.  And even more incredibly, God perfectly forgives through a bloody cross and an empty tomb, working through this seemingly chaotic course of events to bring His restoration through orderly means again and again.

Perhaps the opening title isn't so off base, then.  It seems like chaos to us.  But to the God who is able to hold order and disorder in perfect tension, it makes perfect sense.  And our faith clings to that God who is able to do that which we cannot. 

Self-Awareness and Reflection

For a moment, I want you to do something that is a little strange sounding.  Think back to the last real difficulty or challenging moment that you had.  As you think back to it, I want you to consider a couple of things.  First, what were the specific challenges that you faced?  In what ways were you prepared for it?  In what ways were you unprepared?  What could you have done differently and perhaps seen a different result?  As you think through these questions, perhaps even close your eyes and re-imagine the situation, or write down your reflections upon it.

I have come to believe that reflection is something that we do not attempt nearly enough in our lives.  We go through a situation, we quickly brainstorm an idea or two, or simply do the first thing that pops to mind.  Then, once the situation has come to its conclusion, we move along to the next one.  What's lacking in all of this?  Taking time to reflect.

If we take a few moments to reflect in the midst of the situation, we will likely come up with another direction or two that we could take.  Further reflection can even provide us with an opportunity to see how each of these different approaches could lead to different results.  Just a little reflection in the midst of the situation not only provides alternative avenues, but even the chance to consider if the avenue we are taking will lead in a direction we would like.

Additional reflection at the end also lends itself to bearing fruit.  When we look back, we can see the various points at which we could have gone a different direction.  We can reflect on if we made a good choice, a bad choice, an informed choice, or an uniformed choice.  We can also take that opportunity to reflect on what we learned and what the situation has taught us for the next encounter we have.

Several recent studies I have read show that taking time to reflect is actually one of the best ways to ingrain what we learn from a situation.  This is, for example, the power of journaling.  We reflect and write down what happened, what our thoughts were, what our reactions were, and what we could have done differently.  In doing this, we learn so much more than if we didn't take the time to reflect.

Taking this reflection approach also permits us to become more self-aware, to know who we are, what our strengths and weaknesses are.  Reflection can also allow us to learn what our "trigger points" are.  When we are struggling with a sin, reflection can help us learn of how we react leading up to the sin, and perhaps can serve to give us clues on how to battle against that sin in our lives.  Reflection also permits us to confess to God, knowing that He assures of us our forgiveness in Jesus, and to come to a greater awareness of our sins, faults, and flaws.  In doing this, we come to a more realistic picture of who we are, and I am convinced that doing this will also grow us in appreciation for God's gift of Jesus and our baptism, which connects us to Jesus' life, death, and resurrection.

Building this habit into daily life is not easy.  I have tried and, while I do it quite often, I also find many times where I fail to reflect well.  In the end, my times of reflection have served to grow my appreciation for God's Law and will, as well as to more fully understand the depths from which Jesus has rescued me.  I pray that taking time for reflection may do the same thing for you. 

Dependence: Good, Bad, or Neither?

Think about phrases that describe our North American lifestyle.  Some old ones are along the lines of "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps", "Never let them see you sweat", and "You can only rely on yourself."  Still today, you hear phrases like, "If you want the job done right, do it yourself."  In other words, the sentiment is still very strong out there.  You cannot rely on others, you should only rely on yourself.

A word that is often used to sum up this idea is "independent".  Independent means that you don't have to rely upon others.  You can do what you want, the way you want, in the time that you want.  This is contrasted with being dependent.  The idea of dependent is that you cannot do anything without relying on others.  To take it to extremes (which some do), it means that you are incapable of doing something without the assistance, direction, or motivation of others.  You are incapable of accomplishing it yourself.  To many, there is a very strong aversion to dependence. 

I've seen this aversion to dependence in a variety of ways over the years.  You get someone who is recovering from illness or surgery, and they have to rely on someone to tie their shoes, or help get dressed for example.  They almost seem embarrassed that they need such help, even if it is understandable, given their circumstances.  Yes, I recognize that this is a fairly benign example, but you get the idea.  We see it with parents whose children fail to leave home during or after college, where they are often viewed as dependent (with a negative connotation toward the idea).

The question we are asking today is this.  Is such dependence, while perhaps not normal for our culture, biblical?  Paul uses the image of the body, a multitude of parts that all rely upon one another, working in coordination.  Eyes do not function on their own, but as a part of the overall body.  The same is said for ears, the brain, the spine, the legs, the arms, etc. The body, as a whole, simply cannot have one part exist independently of the rest.

Yet, we also have examples from the Bible of the need to be a functioning part of the body.  Paul would also say that the worker is due his wages.  If someone refuses to work, then they should bear the consequences of such inaction.  This creates a tension.  We are to rely upon others, but at the same time, we are also to do the "work" given us to do.  We are dependent on one another as members of the body and as members of society, and yet, we are each also expected to fulfill the roles (work) that God gives us to do.  Because of our redemption in Jesus, we do this now out of love for neighbor rather than as a means of pleasing God, but the point is, we DO it.

I would dare assert that we spend much time trying to be overly independent.  That means there are times when we must give way to our independent instincts and allow others to serve us, just as we are also to serve them in their needs.  Yes, it means putting aside our pride and dying to ourselves, but those are held up as good things throughout God's Word to us.  Just as Jesus put aside His own needs to serve others, we do the same thing as redeemed, baptized children of God. 

As an end note, I realize that this is a fairly specific use of the word dependent that I am using for this post.  There are other uses of the word which I am not addressing in here where dependence is not a good thing.  But overall, what I most would like for you to take away from this is that we actually could stand to grow in our reliance upon others, seeking to put to death our self so that we are open to others serving us, just as we want to serve them and pray for them to be open to it when we see their need.

I've Been Found, But Now What?

In yesterday's blog, I talked a little bit about being "found", and how, sometimes, we who have been born and raised as Christians often have a difficult time relating to those who have not had the same upbringing and background.  Yes, there is much more to dive into in that, but today, I want to revisit Luke 15 and those stories of Jesus for a moment.

In the first story that Jesus tells in Luke 15, we have a sheep that has gotten lost, and the shepherd goes out to find the poor lost lamb.  He picks it up on his shoulders and carries it to safety.  A sheep isn't an inanimate object, but it also is not one of the more rational animals in the world either.  We aren't told the details of how the sheep got lost, but it has no capacity to get back on its own, and once it is found, being "found" may not truly have that deep of an impact on it.

The second story features a lost coin.  Now we are dealing with an inanimate object that has neither thoughts nor feelings.  It's found, and truly, for the coin, it probably doesn't make a difference whether it is lost or found.

The third story then features a son (actually two) that is lost.  However, this son comes to his senses and desires to return to his father.  He makes the move to return, though his father truly welcomes him back and restores him to the family and community.  The son is a living, breathing human being, capable of rational thought, and realizing what he has done and what he desires.

Now, we realize that the rescue that God has done for us in Jesus is fully on Jesus' shoulders.  We cannot redeem ourselves, and quite often, like the coin or the sheep, don't even really have a conscious mindset to think about it.  That's why we tend to relate so well to the son who returns.  But perhaps you notice that the story is incomplete in a number of ways.  First, we aren't told how the older brother reacts (which is the point Jesus seems to be making to the Pharisees, to see how they react to others being received back into the kingdom, a whole different point).  But we also are not told how the younger son acts and changes upon being restored to the family.  Is he happy to be back?  Does he want to have the comforts of home?  Does he miss the adventures of being out on his own again?  We simply are not told those things.

We have been found, which is actually the point of the three stories.  But now what?  Are we like the sheep, that probably doesn't have a real sense of what we have been rescued from, and therefore, do not truly understand what has happened?  Well, perhaps a bit.  Are we like the coin, with no conscious thought about it whatsoever?  Probably not.  Are we like the son, who realizes what it means to be a part of the family, and who (hopefully) grows in appreciation for what had been lost in his life?  Well, we would sure hope so.

As Lutherans, we tend to focus more on the restoration than on what happens after that.  And yet, we simply cannot overlook the fact that being found should have an impact on us.  The son should be comforted and more appreciative of his family now that he has been found.  Hopefully he has grown in understanding what a gift he has been given, and he grows more responsible in his role in the family.  It's not a guarantee, by any means.  But it would seem wrong if nothing changed for him.

How has being found impacted you in your life and your faith life?  It's a question well worth considering, and perhaps even taking action on as you consider it.

Lost and Found

If you don't know that you are lost, can you really be found?

Okay, it's a hypothetical question, one that probably can't fairly be answered.  In Luke 15, Jesus tells three stories about lost things.  One is a lost sheep that the shepherd goes to find, leaving the 99 safe and secure in the pen.  The next is a lost coin, one out of 10 that a woman has, and she sweeps her whole house to find that lost coin, presumably keeping the other 9 in a safe place.  Then, Jesus follows up with the longest story, that which is commonly known as the prodigal son.  A son asks for his inheritance, leaves home, squanders what he was given, comes home, and dad throws a party, to which the older son seems to refuse to be part of. 

Naturally, in these stories, we have a tendency to focus on the lost object, and to identify ourselves with that lost object.  And yet, for people like myself, who were washed in baptism at a very young age and who know no other life than that of being part of God's Church, the question above may speak very appropriately to us: if you don't know that you are lost, can you really be found?

Right away, the first answer has to be, yes, you really can be found.  After all, it is God who rescues us in Jesus' life, death, and resurrection for us, and in God's gifts of grace given to us.  In a sense, that's where the stories I mentioned above come in.  The primary person in each of the stories is not the lost object, nor the ones who were safely kept, but the one who did the searching.  It's the shepherd going out to find the lost sheep.  It's the woman looking for her lost coin.  It's the father who joyfully receives his son into the family of his origin.  The point of the stories is not the lost one, it's the one who finds and receives and celebrates.

Yet, we can lose that sense of being a lost one.  Many, like me, have been "found" for so long that we don't truly comprehend the depth of what it means to be lost.  We have lived our lives knowing that God loves us, that Jesus saved us, that God wants to do good for us.  It seems shocking to suggest otherwise. 

But perhaps that is where most of the people that we encounter daily actually are.  Perhaps they wonder if God is even there, much less if God wants to do good things to them.  They see the hardships of life, and think that God, if He exists, must have it in for them.  They may know the name Jesus, but overall, society points to Jesus more as a good teacher and moral man than Savior, and so they don't know that they have been rescued from the futility that they experience in life.  They see God as waiting with thunderbolts in hand, and if they walk through the door of that church, won't He throw it at them, since only "good" people go there?

In some ways, it's hard for someone like me to relate to someone who truly feels lost and separated from God.  But that's not even the point.  The point is, I also am lost, no matter how much I may not experience it.  My sin, which may not be as bad as theirs from a worldly standpoint, is just as deadly in God's eyes as theirs.  I am truly lost and fear standing before a wrathful God, even if my worst sin is a simple white lie to my wife, or that paper clip I stole from work.

Do you know what a good cure is when we find ourselves not able to relate to those who truly seem to be experiencing that lost sense?  It's to go out there where they are, to see their life without passing judgment on it, to get to know them and care for them, and see where their struggles are.  Not doing it as an outreach, but doing it out of Christian love.  Our hope is that God's Spirit works both in us and in them, growing us in our care and concern for them, and drawing them to their Savior through our interactions with them.

Perhaps that's the answer to the question.  If those who are found don't sense their lostness, perhaps going out and experiencing life with those who are lost will help deepen our faith and appreciation for the lengths our God goes to on our behalf.

The Weekend is Here

"Everybody's working for the weekend."  Loverboy

Okay, so it's not a quote from the Bible leading off today's post.  Yet, this lyric from the song "Working for the weekend" seems somewhat fitting as Friday rolls around.  Yet, as you may have guessed, I want to approach the weekend from a slightly different mindset than that of a group that would call themselves Loverboy.

Sure, in our day and age, most people approach the weekend as a break from the workaday week.  It's a time to kick back, relax, do something fun, and have fewer responsibilities.  It shouldn't be a surprise that there is an equal correlation between attendance at clubs and bars, incidents of drug and alcohol use (and abuse), and other things of such a nature.

Is that really what the weekend is about?  Or, perhaps I should suggest it in a different way.  If that is what the weekend is about, what does it say about the purpose of your existence?  If you exist and work simply to get to the fun times, that really is a pretty shallow existence.  Work becomes a means to fun and enjoyment, during which you try to escape from the means that allows you to have such fun and enjoyment.  Work becomes a drudgery that you simply have to do and endure if you want to have fun.

Yet, as Christians, not only do we see work in a different light, we also see the weekend in a different light.  God instituted a day of rest, a day to be refreshed, a day to honor Him and His work of creation.  And then, in the resurrection of Jesus, that came to include a day that we would honor the ultimate work of our Savior in rising from the dead, winning victory of sin, death, and the devil.  The weekend is our time to honor our God, to honor His work in this world, and to honor His sacrifice for us.

Far too often, we use the weekend to honor our own sinful pleasures and desires.  And yet, as the weekend once again approaches, what about seeing it as a time to honor our God, who created everything and did everything that the weekend truly is about?

Temples and Tabernacles: Stability and Flexibility

As God's people, there is a certain amount of tension that we live with in our faith lives.  We have been rescued from our sin by what Jesus did and endured for us, and yet, we still battle against sin in our daily lives.  We are fully redeemed in God's eyes by what Jesus has done, and by virtue of our baptism, and yet, we are still sinful human beings, daily doing that which He says not to do, and failing to do that which He commands us to do.

One thing about us human beings, though, is that we simply do not do well with tension.  We go out of our way to keep tension down in our lives.  Tension even goes so far as to have physical effects on our bodies.  Our heart rate elevates.  Our blood pressure rises.  We may even find ourselves sweating.  In our minds, it creates that "fight or flight" instinct.  Tension just isn't something that deal well with, even when it is something like wrestling with the fact that we have life in Jesus, and yet, we must die because of our sin.

In a way, the place of God's presence presents tension into what we think of God and how He comes to us.  In one sense, we want a reliable place to know that "this is the place where I go to meet God."  There is comfort in knowing that we have a place to go in which we meet God, and where others can share that same thing.  That is the sense of the temple.  Here is the place where God meets His people, and you can know that He is there, as He has promised.

Yet, we also want to know that God is with us wherever we may go.  We want a God who is with us, regardless of where we may be.  We want a God who travels with us on the roads of life, who goes before us, who goes under us to support us, and above us to protect us.  This is the sense of the tabernacle, that God is with us in our travels, and not merely at one designated place, and that He promises that He is with us wherever we may be.

The reality that we find is that God desires both of these.  God is a God of the tabernacle, which traveled with the people throughout the wilderness, and God is a God of the temple, establishing a place where He can be found on a somewhat permanent basis.  And truth be told, there are times in our life where each of these is desirable.  We want the temple, the reassurance that THIS is God's house.  We also want the reassurance that God is with us when we are not in His house, but when we are fighting the good fight of the faith in our daily lives. 

The nice thing is, our God is both of these.  He doesn't feel the tension of wrestling with where He is found.  He simply is found.  He is present with us in all places, and He is present in His house for us.  He is stable, giving us a place where we can know He is found, and He is flexible, with us everywhere we go in life.  And that is a great thing for us, even if we cannot fully fathom it.

Honoring MLK Day

Since this blog is basically random thoughts on our life in this world as a Christian, inevitably there will be days, themes, and observances that I will "think about out loud", even if there isn't a specific Christian connection or correlation.  The theme of today, the day we, as a nation, honor Martin Luther King Jr, is one of those.

In a sense, it is both amazing and kind of sad that we have to have a day such as this to honor, especially when we think about it as a Christian.  Yes, Dr. King did many brave and courageous things in fighting for equality and equal rights in our nation.  I don't mean this post to downplay that in any form or fashion.  But I will say, especially from a Christian standpoint, it's rather sad that we have to have such a day to honor.

Why is that?  Well, if I understand much about what we believe about how God made us all and redeemed us all, it would seem that all humans, regardless of race, nationality, skin color, or any other feature, all stand equally in the eyes of God.  We are all equally His creation, and we are all equally His fallen, sinful creation.  Likewise, in Jesus, we are all equally redeemed through the blood of the Lamb, and we all equally have the hope of new life, as we put our hope and faith in His redeeming work for us.

In that regard, shouldn't we, as Christians, view the need for a Dr. King as a rather sad thing?  Shouldn't Christians, regardless of race, color, nationality, language, or any other characteristic, believe that humans stand equally in the eyes of God?  I believe the Bible makes pretty clear that we are to make no distinctions in these areas.  Yes, when it comes to our sinful behavior, we are called to treat each other in varying ways, though always tempered with compassion, and with an eye toward forgiveness.  But when it comes to race, nationality, and the like, we all truly stand as equals.

Quite often, in history, Christians have not spoken up against things that seem obvious to us with the perspective of hindsight.  Issues such as slavery and racism present one such example.  So yes, it is truly appropriate to honor such a significant figure, who fought for such things, even as we rather shame-facedly admit that the need for him to do such a thing was because we Christians often have a difficult time distinguishing exactly what God intends from us at any given time.  That's why we cling so richly to the Christ, to Jesus, and to the forgiveness that He purchased at such a high price.  And that is why it is fully appropriate to honor those who fight for things that we as Christians recognize that we should have been fighting for all along.

Dual Realities

I am pretty sure that I have blogged about this idea before, but it's one that I believe is well worth us thinking about.  It's also one that has a lot to do with some of the topics I am preaching on during the month of January.

As Christians, we find ourselves living in a dual kind of reality.  Okay, what do I mean by that?  Let's use being united in the Body of Christ as the example today, since that is the topic I am on this Epiphany season.  We live in one reality in which we are part of the Body of Christ because of what Jesus has done for us, in His life, death, and resurrection.  Our faith clings to His work, and in that, we are united together in a way that only God truly sees and knows.

Now, if that were the only reality, easy enough.  But when we read through the Bible, we find that God is constantly calling His people to live together in peace and unity.  This reveals to us the second reality in which we live.  We are united in the Body of Christ in this world.  The thing is, it is much more difficult to see that unity within this reality. 

As we look around the Christian landscape, we see multiple Christian churches and denominations, and even those who claim not be a denomination, which are really a denomination of themselves.  We see churches where conflict and struggle are the norm, rather than peace and unity.  And if we aren't careful, what we see in this reality can cause us to question the other reality, that we really are joined together and unified in the Body of Christ.

In the first reality, the work is fully God's.  God has redeemed us in Jesus, and He has even planted the gift of faith in our beings.  We don't do any of that; God does it all.  But in the second reality, the work of unity falls into our hands.  Yes, we are led by the Spirit, but we are the ones who have to work to remain connected and unified together.  We talk about how we may read various portions of the Scriptures differently.  We discuss how to act toward one another, and we determine the words that we use when we talk to and about one another.  In that way, unity is something that we have to work toward, even as we live in the greater, unseen reality, that we belong to God fully because of what Jesus has done.

What you often find, though, is that we as humans have a difficult time holding to the tension of those two realities.  We invariably slip more toward one than the other, rather than seeing that both hold equally upon us.  God fully establishes unity among us, and we have to work at unity.  Both are described in God's Word, and really, we see the truth of that every time we have two or three gather in God's name (where four or five opinions reside!).

What about God and Dishonor?

From yesterday's blog.  "Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use?"  Romans 9:21


Yesterday I wrote a bit about God and the clay that He molds.  I talked about how that can be a painful thing for the clay, and how I have seen that at work in my life quite frequently.  But I also included the above verse from Romans 9, about how the potter makes some clay into honorable use vessels, and others into vessels for dishonorable use.  So let's talk about that a little today.

What would be a vessel for dishonorable use?  Well, think about some of the ceramic fixtures in your house that you don't exactly show off a lot.  Maybe the first one to jump to mind is found in your bathroom.  Let's face it, going to the bathroom is not exactly something that springs to mind when we think about honorable use.  We treat it with more modesty, hiding it behind closed doors, precisely for that reason: it isn't the most honorable thing in our house.

So, if God molds the clay, and some of it is for honorable use, and others for dishonorable use, then what would be those vessels of dishonorable use?  Or, to put it in a slightly different way, what would be the equivalent of the toilet when God fashions people?  A necessary part of life in this world, but not exactly one that we are proud to admit that we need to use, or that we even really want to admit to having to use.  So what would be the people equivalent of that?

Well, God does actually paint a few pictures of that for us.  Think about Pharoah at the time of the Exodus.  God actually speaks that He put Pharoah in charge so that He could demonstrate His power in freeing His people.  Pharoah would seem to be a vessel for dishonorable use.  Or, at the time of the exile, when God would utilize the Babylonian army to destroy the temple, Jerusalem, and Judah, eventually to bring about their downfall because they overshot what God had given them to do.  It may seem that they were set up for a dishonorable purpose, to be God's sword against His people, only to be discarded for what they had done.

The point I basically make is really the same as yesterday.  If God decides to do that, what can we really say against it?  Can we say that He is wrong to do such things, especially as it serves the purpose of His will and design?  Can we say He is wrong in that at all?  After all, who are we to question the one who makes us, and who has His design for our role in the grand scheme of things?

Really, I think it boils down to this one thing.  How comfortable are we with really saying, believing, and knowing that God is the one who gets to call the shots, and we really don't have much say in the matter?  But don't we say that our lives are in His hands, and that He should do with us what He sees fit?  What if He decided that you were to be a vessel of dishonorable use?  Would you still be able to say, "Praise the Lord"?  If not, what would be getting in the way of that?  It's a thought well worth thinking about. 

The Pain of the Clay

"But now, O LORD, You are our Father; we are the clay and You are our potter; we are all the work of Your hand."  Isaiah 64:8

"Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use?"  Romans 9:21

"Daddy, make a ball for me."  That was the request of my three year old the other day, as she played with some play-doh.  So I dutifully rolled a ball out for her.  However, she noticed that there was a small "crack" in it, where it had folded over on itself, and I hadn't done an adequate job of getting rid of the "crack".  So she made me roll another one, watching as I squeezed it and pushed it, making sure that it was one solid ball, rather than just several clumps of play-doh pressed together.

At times, it seems that I find God doing much that same thing to me.  He takes this lump of play-doh or clay, and He mashes it together according to His will and design.  Now, I have never heard the play-doh scream out in pain when I've rolled it or pressed it before.  However, it does seem to me that, when God is doing that same thing in my life, it can be rather painful.

There are times in life where I think I have discovered something that looks promising, and then God shows me how He wants the thing to be formed by having me ask others about what I am considering.  Quite often, I have discovered that other people have insights or viewpoints that I had not considered, which sometimes means that the "brilliant" thing I am considering needs considerable refinement.  That is painful, especially to the ego, though I admit that it is a pain that I take rather willingly and joyfully, especially as it pertains to God's kingdom and His people.

There are other times where it seems that God is intent on pressing me in an effort for me to realize just how resiliant He created me to be.  Stringing together nights of little sleep, caring for children who suffer from illness, God has, on a few occasions, shown me just how resilient He created me to be.  I have been amazed how much I have been able to do after nights of only 2-3 hours of interrupted sleep.  The pain of the clay, but done willingly (not always joyfully) for the good of other loved ones.

Let's face it.  It hurts when God forms us.  And yet, I would dare to suggest that this is necessary pain.  How can we be the creation that He intends for us to be if we aren't open to His pressing, pushing, and pounding?  Yes, He loves us with love beyond measure, but He also intends to form us into something incredible in His eyes, and that involves us being formed.  (I actually think this is a great challenge for the men of God, and men in general.  How manly is it to run from the pain of being formed, and how much more manly is it to stand up and be formed by the God of all creation?)

The thing is, being God's vessel means letting Him do with the clay what He wants.  It may even seem that He is forming us to be a vessel of dishonorable use (maybe tomorrow I'll write about that one a bit, because it seems significant).  And you know what?  That's okay.  It's still Him forming us, and when we are formed into what He wants us to be, I dare say we will find ourselves closer to Him than if we resist His formation, even if it would save us a little pain.

Love and Forgiveness

I've often heard that the most important factor in what Jesus has done for us is that He won forgiveness for us.  The reality is, there is a lot of truth to that statement.  Without the forgiveness of Jesus, we simply cannot stand in the presence of God the Father and hope to have a word of welcome.  God's holiness and our sin simply cannot coexist.  We need the forgiveness that Jesus obtained for us at such a high cost.

And yet, as a Lutheran, I'm often drawn back to some of the confessions of faith that we cling to. In one of those, we have the writers of those Lutheran documents contrasting the writers of the Catholic Church of the day, especially over a verse that comes at the end of 1 Corinthians 13, the "love" chapter of Paul's letter.  That last verse says that these three remain: faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love.

The Lutheran writers, clinging to faith as the means by which we have assurance of God's forgiveness of us, highlight the importance of faith in that.  The Catholic writers highlight the importance of love, especially actions of love done on the part of human beings.  (As an aside, these are important, but as the rest of the Scriptures make pretty clear, our greatest actions of love still don't make us right with God, a point the Lutherans wanted to emphasize.)

As I have grown more experienced in ministry, I have started to see this in a bit of a different light.  I honestly do think that, in some respects, those involved in the dispute kind of "talked past" each other.  In some ways, when we look at these three, and then also at the role of forgiveness, there seems to be a bit of an apples and oranges thing going on here.

The forgiveness of Jesus is vital to restoring our relationship with God.  However, what moved God to even want to restore that relationship?  Love, specifically, God's love for fallen, sinful humanity.  Love is vitally important, not as the means by which God restored us, but as the motivation that drove God to forgive us.  Our faith then clings to what God has told us that He did in Jesus, with His love for us as the motivation.  Our faith looks to that, and then, as God's Spirit does His work, inspires us toward that same kind of love toward others.

As you read through that paragraph, you perhaps can see why it's impossible to actually "rank" one thing higher than the other.  They are all different parts of something that is necessary.  At the back of it all, though, is the fact that God does it because of His great love for us.  That love inspires the work of forgiveness in Jesus, which we then cling to in faith.  It sounds a bit like a process, even though it takes place constantly in the life of a believer.

I can't say why this has been on my mind lately, other than that I think there is a life application to be made from it.  We usually don't forgive someone that we don't have a relationship with.  Love tends to be the driving force behind our forgiveness.  Let me use the example of a husband and wife for a moment.  Love is the prevalent thing in the relationship.  That love is what drives forgiveness when it is called for in the relationship.  If the forgiveness is absent, you can question the presence of love.  Yet, forgiveness is not all that is there to the relationship.  But the reason that the couple can continue is because they believe (put their faith in) the fact that the other has forgiven them.  The forgiveness is vital, but not the driving force.  Love is the driving force.

As I said, this is kind of thinking out loud, and I think I also need more time to flesh it out more.

If Not Equality, Then What?

Yesterday, I began to make the case that God is not overly concerned about equality.  While some attribute this to the culture and time in which the events of the Scriptures occured, what we actually find is that God really hasn't created us to be all equal.  Sure, when it comes to sin, we're all equally guilty, and Jesus' forgiveness and blood cover us equally, but outside of that, God doesn't seem overly concerned with equality.

So, if that's the case, then what is God concerned with?  Does He want to see abuses practiced upon those who have more, or does He want to see those without a voice or without "rights" abused and mistreated?  Well, no.  In fact, throughout His revealed Word to us, God makes it very clear that His expectation of His people (and that does mean that it covers all people of the world) is that they love their neighbors as they love their own selves.

So, if God happens to give some set of spiritual gifts to one individual, it doesn't mean that God is exalting that person above others.  It means, instead, that this person, in love for neighbor, is to utilize those gifts in service to others.  He or she isn't to keep them wrapped up, or to use them to exalt oneself.  They are to be used to build up and grow others around them.

In fact, that's the design that we see with our God and His creation.  He doesn't give equally, or else we would not have to rely upon and live in community with each other.  But God created us to have to rely upon others.  He created the people of this world in a way that some would raise crops, others would transport the crops, others would sell the crops, some would have the skills to make clothing, others would be builders, and the like.  Instead of equality, God created a system in which everyone has to rely upon each other (and upon God) for the needs and necessities of life.

God is concerned with love for neighbor, and with our interdependence upon one another.  If one is lazy, it affects all the rest.  If one exalts oneself over others, it affects all the rest.  If one part is missing, it affects all the rest.  St. Paul paints this picture beautifully using the illustration of the body.  The various parts all work together, even though they are not created equally, but all are equally needed for the body to operate as it does.

God is less concerned with equality, and more concerned with love for neighbor and reliance upon one another.  That cuts to the heart of an individualistic society such as we live in, but that's also why we acknowledge that following God's will and design truly is a counter-cultural thing.

Is God Concerned about Equality?

Equality is a buzz word in our current day and society.  We seem to be truly concerned about equality (and yes, I say we seem to be concerned with it, as I will explain in a moment).  Recent events like the Supreme Court ruling on homosexual marriage has the word "equality" attached to it.  We hold to things like an equal right to vote, or to an equal right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

That sounds really good.  In fact, I would dare say that if you went and asked your average Christian in the USA if God is for equality, he or she would probably say yes.  And yet, there are a large number of sections of God's Word that truly challenge this notion that everyone should be equal.  (And as a bit of a side note, think about it from this standpoint.  What does it truly mean to have equality?  Does it mean that everyone gets the same?  Does it mean that everyone's voice is heard the same?  Does it mean that everyone gets the same opportunities regardless of education, intelligence, opportunity, and the like?  Challenging questions to consider in this discussion.)

So, is God concerned with equality?  I would venture to say that He is not.  Sure, He created us all to be equally loved and cared for by Him, and He has equally purchased and redeemed us from sin, death, and the devil through His Son Jesus.  But that seems to be about the extent to which God concerns Himself with equality. 

Think about some of the topics that would create a controversy in a congregation.  Women's rights is one that jumps to mind for many.  Some would say that women deserve an equal right to serve as pastors.  Yet, from the pages of Scripture, you have a rather challenging time to hold that argument up.  So, what do those who support such a notion do?  They try to change the context.  "It was a cultural thing," they say.  And yet, the idea that God may not be a great promoter of equality may not seem to cross their minds.

Think about it this way, too.  When the various gifts of the Spirit are given out, does it say that all are given them equally?  No.  Rather, it quite pointedly shows that some get one or two gifts, others get one or two gifts, and that means that there are those who get less, or practically none, of a particular gift.  God is not so much about equality when it comes to spiritual gifts, it seems, or else all could heal equally, speak in languages equally, discern spirits equally, teach equally, and the like.

Tomorrow I plan to post about why I believe God isn't about equality.  But for today, I've given us enough to chew on.

Asking the Questions

I recently read a very interesting book, entitled "Humble Inquiry: The Gentle Art of Asking Instead of Telling", by Edgar H. Schein.  No, this isn't a theology book.  If we classified it, it might be more of a business management style book at heart.  However, the author does indeed raise some very intriguing points that I believe we are wise to think about as Christians.

Basically, Dr. Schein writes about how we live in a "tell" society.  Think about your conversations.  Don't we spend more time telling others what we think, what we have seen, what our thoughts are, and the like, rather than asking what others think, or how others percieve things?  Truth be told, I have even seen this in myself, where I am part of a conversation, and as someone else is talking, I'm already thinking about the next thing I want to say rather than listening to what they are saying.  I really do believe this is one of the signs of being raised in a "tell" culture.

Instead, what Dr. Schein proposes is to be more inquiring when it comes to conversations in any and all situations.  Instead of a "tell" culture, he calls for developing an "ask" culture.  Okay, so what does that look like.  Imagine having a conversation where the other person genuinely is interested in what you are saying, is asking questions that show that they are truly paying attention, and aren't interested in telling you what they think or what their experiences are.  That would be something like what Dr. Schein would propose.

Sounds good, right?  Who doesn't want others to have a genuine interest in what they say or think?  And here is where I think this connects with our Christian faith.  Instead of "telling" others what we have that they are missing, or "telling" them where they are straying from God's will and design, what if we asked questions with a genuine interest in discovering what led them to the place in life that they happen to be in?  We might discover a lot of connection points with our God and our Christian faith.  We might discover that they aren't as far "out there" as we might think.  We may even discover that, since we have shown a genuine interest in them, they may also return the favor and show interest in us.  What possibilities might that hold for us to speak of our Savior, our God, and our faith?

As I read through the Gospels, I find Jesus asking a lot of questions and listening intently to the people He conversed with.  In this instance, I would suggest that scientific study and research has done nothing more than uncovered what God has shown us all along.  Listening and building the relationship will go much further than pretty much any form of us "telling" them what they are missing.  And who knows?  That just might create a new relationship between that person and their Savior, Jesus, as we open our ears and show genuine interest in others more.

It's Startling

It doesn't happen very often, but every once in a while, something actually does catch me by surprise.  I say it doesn't happen very often because there is one significant part of me that always expects human beings to be the sinful beings that they are.  I'm not really surprised when an upstanding person suddenly is revealed to have a dark side to them, or a hidden lifestyle, or something along those lines.  Part of me actually expects that, since we are, by nature, sinful and unclean.  It will come out.

But over the past half a year plus, I have actually been surprised.  My wife and I celebrated the addition of a little boy to our family just days before last Christmas.  As we started to figure out what this new addition meant to our family and our life, I knew that it would call for some extra time on my part, time I was truly happy to give.  After all, one of the primary commands that God has given to men, husbands and fathers in particular, is to care for their families and to make sure that their needs were met.

Truth be told, I was surprised that there are those who found it strange that I, the husband and father and head of the household, would take the time to make sure that all was well within the household.  Undoubtedly, that required a few sacrifices on my part, but thankfully, God also has blessed me with a number of awesome people who were able to fill in gaps.  Sure, things went undone as the demands of time and commitment called me to my family, but overall, I would like to think that, in the grand scheme of things, relatively few things of significance were impacted.

As Christians abiding in the nation in which we live, have we so bought into what our nation and culture teaches that we find it odd or even distressing that a husband and father would want to spend a little extra time with his family?  Have we become more Americanized, as in thinking that the father has to spend hours on end outside the household and that the mother has to assume all the working duties of the house, than we are Christianized, where care and concern for others is our highest command?  Do we take it that, when God commands that the head of the household should care for his family, that this only means in going to work, and not in actually being present with them, especially at challenging transition times like sleep and lunch and dinner and the like?

I don't know.  I guess the reason I was so startled and surprised was that I truly would hope that a father caring for his family wouldn't be so odd, but then again, so many of the things that God would have us consider as we live as His people truly are countercultural. 

Whose is it, Anyway?

As I've been perusing the thoughts of what it means to be inclusive this week, I think that there is an underlying thought that we need to examine a bit to guide us in this.  We often will talk about the church we attend as "our" church.  We hope and pray that God will grow "our" church.  When we invite others to walk along with us, to grow in knowing what God has done in Jesus, it's typically with the hopes that they will join "our" church and that "our" church will grow.

You may have noticed that there are a lot of quotes in that paragraph around the word "our".  That is intentional.  While using "our" helps us to differentiate between the church we attend and the one down the street, an unintended side effect of this is that we start to think of it as "our" church.  But there is a big reality that we may know, but can sometimes forget.  The church is God's.

So what does that mean?  Do we throw out the word "ours" completely?  Well, perhaps not.  But one thing we do need to change is how we view God's work in the church that we happen to be part of.  It doesn't belong to us.  It belongs to God in Christ Jesus.  That means that God is going to do with this church what He will.  Yes, you and I play some vital part in what happens with it, but the truth behind that is that God is going to do with it what He designs and wills. 

That's why I would suggest something a little bit different than how we typically think.  When we ask God to grow the church, let's ask Him to grow the full number of those who belong to Him in Jesus.  That may or may not include people coming to our local gathering.  But guess what?  That doesn't matter.  That's in God's hands.  Sure, we can hope that He will send them our way, and He likely will.  But our focus is to be on the bigger kingdom and to trust that God will do with our local gathering what He will.

That doesn't mean that we stop planning programs, or growing in how we can draw people to God in our particular gathering.  But as we do that, we keep our eyes open to the eternal kingdom, knowing that God is going to care for us.  It may not be what we want, or what we hope, but if our eyes are focused on the right thing, then we may just discover that God can do far more than we could ever do if our eyes were fixed on too small a thing, such as "our" church!