Each month, our school has a different virtue that we think about and discuss. Then, a certain grade is chosen to present on that virtue in chapel. Yesterday, the sweet little first graders taught us about gratitude. In preparation, they each thought of something they were grateful for and drew a small illustration. In chapel, each child stood and said what they were grateful for while holding up their picture. Hearing so many little voices share their unique perspective one after the other, accompanied by their sweet little drawings, was absolutely beautiful, moving, full of joy. I was so moved, in fact, that I secured the list to share with you here. Read it less like a list, and more like 48 imaginative little six and seven-year olds telling you what they appreciate most about life.
We are grateful for...
...trees that give us oxygen.
...flowers because they make our world beautiful.
...fuzzy stuffed animals to sleep with at night.
...to be living in such an awesome world.
...having a nice teacher.
...God.
...having a cat to sleep with each night.
...a warm, cozy bed.
...our pets.
...our loving families.
...snow in winter and sun in summer.
...our houses.
...sleepovers with our friends.
...night and day.
...the animals on our Earth.
...our planet Earth.
...electricity.
...our school, so we can learn.
...brothers and sisters.
...shade of a tree on a hot summer day.
...new sneakers when we run the mile run.
...having clothes to wear.
...all the beautiful colors in the world.
...artists who share their creativity.
...scientists because they discover things about our world.
...doctors who keep us well.
...dogs who are always happy to see us.
...pencils to write with.
...books to read.
...firefighters and police officers to protect us.
...the President of the United States.
...a peaceful world.
...food and water to nourish us.
...gravity, which holds us to the Earth.
...the stars and the moon.
...the planets in our solar system.
...the creatures of the sea.
...swimming in the summertime.
...the sports we play.
...stoplights, so cars won't crash.
...our healthy bodies.
...the stories we read.
...green grass under our bare feet.
...wiggly teeth.
...our country's freedom.
...the things that make us special.
...vacations on the beach.
...glasses to help us see.
If that doesn't brighten your Thursday, not much will.
It's hard not love the girl who is grateful for her wiggly teeth, but which is your favorite?
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Enough is enough.
Alright, BBC tells me that now swine flu is killing babies. It's easy to giggle about zombies, but now that it's killing babies, I feel really guilty about laughing so much yesterday.
Will you forgive me?
Will you forgive me?
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Swine Flu Hysteria
The kids came in talking about swine flu today. Everyone is talking.
The principal got on the morning announcements and reassured everyone that we clean the desks every night with a 10% bleach solution. Also, she will not be shaking hands with kids for the time being, but bumping elbows instead.
There was a rumor in another 5th grade room about a parent having swine flu. Another parent called in wondering why the child was still in school. The principal made an announcement at lunch, reassuring the students that she contacted the person directly, and it was purely a rumor.
I had to stifle my giggling during all of this. It was difficult.
I made a few jokes with the teachers about swine flu. They didn't think it was very funny, and instead talked about all the cases in New York and New Jersey and even one in PHILADELPHIA! It's coming closer! They were very serious about it, and I kept trying not to giggle.
When they discussed how it is transmitted, I tried to start the rumor that swine flu is passed on by snorting, squealing zombies and I saw one signing in at the office. The rumor didn't get very far.
Then, one boy at a lunch table started screaming at the top of his lungs, "I HAVE SWINE FLU!!!!!!"
I really had to try not to giggle at that, because he got in quite a bit of trouble. But with everyone all serious and freaking out about it, all this mostly unreasonable mass hysteria, I really wanted to do the same thing.
All of this wouldn't be as funny if it was called something besides Swine Flu. Come on, how can you NOT laugh at that?
But I guess if I keep laughing about it, it'll come back to haunt me and I'll be one of the unlucky few in Pennsylvania. Guess I better get a hold of myself quick.
Now, just in case, where did I put that face mask?
The principal got on the morning announcements and reassured everyone that we clean the desks every night with a 10% bleach solution. Also, she will not be shaking hands with kids for the time being, but bumping elbows instead.
There was a rumor in another 5th grade room about a parent having swine flu. Another parent called in wondering why the child was still in school. The principal made an announcement at lunch, reassuring the students that she contacted the person directly, and it was purely a rumor.
I had to stifle my giggling during all of this. It was difficult.
I made a few jokes with the teachers about swine flu. They didn't think it was very funny, and instead talked about all the cases in New York and New Jersey and even one in PHILADELPHIA! It's coming closer! They were very serious about it, and I kept trying not to giggle.
When they discussed how it is transmitted, I tried to start the rumor that swine flu is passed on by snorting, squealing zombies and I saw one signing in at the office. The rumor didn't get very far.
Then, one boy at a lunch table started screaming at the top of his lungs, "I HAVE SWINE FLU!!!!!!"
I really had to try not to giggle at that, because he got in quite a bit of trouble. But with everyone all serious and freaking out about it, all this mostly unreasonable mass hysteria, I really wanted to do the same thing.
All of this wouldn't be as funny if it was called something besides Swine Flu. Come on, how can you NOT laugh at that?
But I guess if I keep laughing about it, it'll come back to haunt me and I'll be one of the unlucky few in Pennsylvania. Guess I better get a hold of myself quick.
Now, just in case, where did I put that face mask?
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Sufjan Baring it All
Sufjan always wanted to be a writer. If he's using the backdoor of popularity in indie music to get to his first love, I'm ok with that, because I could handle reading a book of his essays. This blurb made me literally LOL. And the music did, too.Read and listen here, especially if you've ever been corrected on the pronunciation of his name.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Prophets of a Future Not Our Own
The following was read in this morning's Lovefeast service:
It helps now and then to step back and take a long view. The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a small fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work. Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said. No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession brings perfection. No pastoral visit brings wholeness. No program accomplishes the Church’s mission. No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
This is what we are about: We plant the seeds that will one day grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it well. It may be incomplete but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
—Archbishop Oscar Arnulfo Romero of El Salvador (1917-1980)
Tricking Kids into Liking Physics
I love teaching in Spring, because I get to teach physics and poetry. A strange combo, yes, but my two most absolute favorite things to teach.
"Physics?" you ask, with a tinge of outrage in your voice. Yes, physics. Newton's three laws of motion, mostly, with emphases on gravity, velocity, acceleration, and friction.
You would expect 5th graders to be completely bored and confused out of their minds, but not in my class. I brainwash them with one easy gimmick: the ukulele.
For my very first job interview in the summer of 2005, I had to write a lesson plan on one of the laws of motion. I picked up my ukulele and wrote a quick ditty about inertia. I was tempted to take it to the interview, but chickened out at the last minute, and maybe that's why I didn't get the job. But two years later when I had the opportunity to teach this lesson in science class, the song was still playing in my mind, and I put it to good use.
The kids go nuts over it. They beg for more. Last year they added verses which I used again this year. And this year we added hand motions.
So now, we're recording the song on Garageband and making a full-fledged educational video complete with demonstrations on each of the laws of motion. The kids drew storyboards and helped with the script, and we've been filming for a week or so now.
But I knew for sure I had successfully brainwashed them this past Friday.
A group of girls brought in a Barbie car with a whole family of Barbies. They put them in the car without seatbelts and pushed the car down the sloping parking lot by the playground during recess. The entire class saw what was happening and joined in. They all ran next to the car jumping and cheering the whole way down and watched excitedly as the car slammed into a concrete wall and the Barbies went flying, because of their inertia, of course.
It was a gruesome scene. Barbies sprawled everywhere on the pavement. Perfect!
They did this over and over and over again. The bigger the crash, the bigger the cheers. It was amazing! And boy did we get some good footage.
And I'm waiting to be confronted about the violence of all of this. I'm pretty sure my response will be sufficient: Have you ever seen 11 year-olds this excited about inertia?
"Physics?" you ask, with a tinge of outrage in your voice. Yes, physics. Newton's three laws of motion, mostly, with emphases on gravity, velocity, acceleration, and friction.
You would expect 5th graders to be completely bored and confused out of their minds, but not in my class. I brainwash them with one easy gimmick: the ukulele.
For my very first job interview in the summer of 2005, I had to write a lesson plan on one of the laws of motion. I picked up my ukulele and wrote a quick ditty about inertia. I was tempted to take it to the interview, but chickened out at the last minute, and maybe that's why I didn't get the job. But two years later when I had the opportunity to teach this lesson in science class, the song was still playing in my mind, and I put it to good use.
The kids go nuts over it. They beg for more. Last year they added verses which I used again this year. And this year we added hand motions.
So now, we're recording the song on Garageband and making a full-fledged educational video complete with demonstrations on each of the laws of motion. The kids drew storyboards and helped with the script, and we've been filming for a week or so now.
But I knew for sure I had successfully brainwashed them this past Friday.
A group of girls brought in a Barbie car with a whole family of Barbies. They put them in the car without seatbelts and pushed the car down the sloping parking lot by the playground during recess. The entire class saw what was happening and joined in. They all ran next to the car jumping and cheering the whole way down and watched excitedly as the car slammed into a concrete wall and the Barbies went flying, because of their inertia, of course.
It was a gruesome scene. Barbies sprawled everywhere on the pavement. Perfect!
They did this over and over and over again. The bigger the crash, the bigger the cheers. It was amazing! And boy did we get some good footage.
And I'm waiting to be confronted about the violence of all of this. I'm pretty sure my response will be sufficient: Have you ever seen 11 year-olds this excited about inertia?
The Tallest Man on Earth playing in the Coolest Music Shop on Earth
Do yourself a huge favor and watch these, please.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Hating Life, part 4
It is not natural for us to willingly hate our lives. In fact, most everything in our human flesh completely resists it. What would cause someone to obey, serve, and submit one's plans? What is the motivation?
Get to know Him.
As Schilder says: "Hear him, hear him."
What other answer is there? What would cause Mary to give of her most valued possession in such a humbling, awkward, extravagant gesture? She knew her savior. How did she know him? She sat at his feet at every opportunity.
You can try as hard as you'd like on your own strength, but if you don't know the depths of the character of Christ, you won't care to give up very much of your life for Him. Why would you even want to? But as you get to know him and the extent of his sacrifice for your sake, the depths of what he's made possible, your paycheck and picket fence simply won't seem as dear to you.
To the unbeliever, all of this sounds preposterous. And it should. But get to know him, and no longer.
This is what enabled Paul to say that he counted his resume and popularity as complete garbage compared to the riches in Christ.
This is what inspires Over the Rhine to sing that in view of the Trumpet Child, the rich forget about their gold.
And in a passage that puts a knot in my throat pretty much every time, Isaiah tells us that when we see the Lord, we will consider our most precious possessions to be utterly worthless, as filthy and disgusting and disposable as a used tampon, of all things:
"O people of Zion, who live in Jerusalem, you will weep no more. How gracious he will be when you cry for help! As soon as he hears, he will answer you. Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.' Then you will defile your idols overlaid with silver and your images covered with gold; you will throw them away like a menstrual cloth and say to them, 'Away with you!'" (Isaiah 30:19-22)
There are plenty of things in our lives pulling our attention away from the spiritual, the transcendent, the unseen. To know Christ and yet still hold on to them so dearly is as foolish and unthinkable as holding on to a used tampon, placing it in the jewelry box instead of the precious diamond necklace.
And yet, that's part of our cloudy vision as humans. One day that will finally change completely, everything in its right place:
"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears,we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." (1 John 3:2)
And so for now, with the Father's grace and the Spirit's help, get to know Him.
Get to know Him.
As Schilder says: "Hear him, hear him."
What other answer is there? What would cause Mary to give of her most valued possession in such a humbling, awkward, extravagant gesture? She knew her savior. How did she know him? She sat at his feet at every opportunity.
You can try as hard as you'd like on your own strength, but if you don't know the depths of the character of Christ, you won't care to give up very much of your life for Him. Why would you even want to? But as you get to know him and the extent of his sacrifice for your sake, the depths of what he's made possible, your paycheck and picket fence simply won't seem as dear to you.
To the unbeliever, all of this sounds preposterous. And it should. But get to know him, and no longer.
This is what enabled Paul to say that he counted his resume and popularity as complete garbage compared to the riches in Christ.
This is what inspires Over the Rhine to sing that in view of the Trumpet Child, the rich forget about their gold.
And in a passage that puts a knot in my throat pretty much every time, Isaiah tells us that when we see the Lord, we will consider our most precious possessions to be utterly worthless, as filthy and disgusting and disposable as a used tampon, of all things:
"O people of Zion, who live in Jerusalem, you will weep no more. How gracious he will be when you cry for help! As soon as he hears, he will answer you. Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.' Then you will defile your idols overlaid with silver and your images covered with gold; you will throw them away like a menstrual cloth and say to them, 'Away with you!'" (Isaiah 30:19-22)
There are plenty of things in our lives pulling our attention away from the spiritual, the transcendent, the unseen. To know Christ and yet still hold on to them so dearly is as foolish and unthinkable as holding on to a used tampon, placing it in the jewelry box instead of the precious diamond necklace.
And yet, that's part of our cloudy vision as humans. One day that will finally change completely, everything in its right place:
"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears,we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." (1 John 3:2)
And so for now, with the Father's grace and the Spirit's help, get to know Him.
fourfivethreesixfive
Jamin told me about this, assuming I'd freak out over it.
He knows me too well.
Teaser from FOUR FIVE THREE SIX FIVE on Vimeo.
He knows me too well.
Teaser from FOUR FIVE THREE SIX FIVE on Vimeo.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Resurrection
We spent time last night discussing the resurrection of Lazarus, and ended up focusing on our own spiritual resurrection, being made alive in Christ after being dead in our transgressions and sins. But as we were wrapping up, one girl made an observation that gave me chills.
John 11:43,44 When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.
Jesus said to them, "Take off the grave clothes and let him go."
What a sight that must have been. Lazarus, a smelling, rotting corpse, is brought out from the grave and restored to full life. And why would he ever dream of keeping his grave clothes on? No way. Take them off. Let him go. Freedom, like never before!
And so too with us. Why would we ever dream of keeping our grave clothes on? We're a new creation, after all, the old has gone and the new has come. Those old smelly rags don't suit us anymore, they'll only slow us down. Leave them behind.
Hebrews 12:1 Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.
John 11:43,44 When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.
Jesus said to them, "Take off the grave clothes and let him go."
What a sight that must have been. Lazarus, a smelling, rotting corpse, is brought out from the grave and restored to full life. And why would he ever dream of keeping his grave clothes on? No way. Take them off. Let him go. Freedom, like never before!
And so too with us. Why would we ever dream of keeping our grave clothes on? We're a new creation, after all, the old has gone and the new has come. Those old smelly rags don't suit us anymore, they'll only slow us down. Leave them behind.
Hebrews 12:1 Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Hating Life, part 3
Since preaching, I've been wondering more specifically about how well my generation of "Christians" is doing at hating our lives, particularly in those three categories of obedience, service, and planning. It's always tricky overgeneralizing and stereotyping like I'm about to do, as there will always be at least one anecdote to prove things wrong. But these are some casual observations of trends from one who lives within them.
In planning, young people are bit unusual. We've watched our grandparents and parents plan perfectly and stay in the same house in the same town at the same job all their lives. At points, they look a bit miserable or at least a little bored, so we're hesitant to take their advice when they try to tell us a thing or two about prudent planning. We can't make up our minds and look a bit bewildered when faced with monumental decisions. Rapid paces of technological and societal advancement tell us we can't predict the future, so why bother planning? We live in the moment and let the winds of change blow us wherever they please.
On the surface, then, we look willing to submit our plans to God, but maybe that's only because we have no significant plans that we're invested in, and we would not be foolish to pursue a little more diligence in thinking toward the future more often.
All of this is one reason why Erica's and my plan for France is daunting for us and friends our age; departure is a couple of years away, and then there's three years of language and cultural acquisition, and then we get to work?! I'm finally getting to the point where departing in a year and nine months seems really soon, but I recently shared that with someone else our age and she said, "Two years?! That's really far away!"
In service and generosity, most of us are disillusioned with the American dream. We're well aware of materialism and consumerism, and we like to complain about it in philosophical discussions. Capitalism is what's ruined this country, after all. That makes us sound like we don't care about money, so it might make us sound like we're pretty generous too. Is it true? This one's a little harder to pinpoint, but part of me thinks we tell ourselves we don't care about money just so that we don't have to be diligent in doing the planning it takes to make money. Our fathers and grandfathers kept their jobs for 30 years in order to make money. Thirty years sounds like a long and miserable amount of time, so if we tell ourselves we don't care about the money, we won't have to do it.
I'd say we have great potential to be generous, because we are close to having the underlying ideologies of simplicity. But so far, I'd venture to say we're just as selfish as the next person. We like to get and hold on to our "stuff" just as much; we just have more trickier arguments and discussions that excuse it.
In order to get to France, Erica and I have to raise a lot of support. That means people are going to have to give us money. Our generation hates this idea. Why? Probably because, ultimately, we don't want to give our money away. So we dress it up and say all missionaries should be "tent-makers" because "that's what Paul did," and while I don't dismiss those ideas lightly at all, I'm wondering if we say that so the missionaries can earn their keep and we can keep our earnings. But, I'm slowly coming around to the idea myself: could it be that God doesn't mind some of his believers giving generously so that others can devote themselves and all of their time to his ministry?
Finally, obedience. Plain and simple, we are awful at obedience. We've labeled anyone who preaches about obedience a legalist and a Pharisee. We've grown up hearing, "You don't know me," and "You can't judge me," and "Who are you to tell me what to do?" We have a horrible time responding to authority, and we hate being told what to do. So we have more philosophical discussions about judging others and legalism and the authority of scripture (everything's cultural! everything's relative!), all of which have some validity, but the underlying motivation is really that we want to live however we want to live. We love our lives. We call ourselves followers of Christ without actually following him. We're attempting to have our cake and eat it too, as they say.
James Montgomery Boice said it better than I could:
"For some reason the idea is current today that, because God is gracious and loving, a Christian can therefore enjoy the fullness of God’s blessing without at the same time accepting the full lordship of the Lord Jesus Christ in his or her life. This is not biblical. Those who have convinced themselves of this ignore God’s laws. They disregard his instructions about the permanency of marriage, for instance. They ignore his instructions about continuing to meet together with other Christians. They do not live by the highest of moral standards. So they are not happy, and they do not know why. Well this is why. They have not died to their own desires in order that they might live for Christ. They have not been crucified with him. They have not obeyed him. Jesus may be their Savior, but he is not truly their Lord.
It is not pleasant to be crucified, I know. But you will never truly live in the full spiritual sense until you are. Losing your life means you must be willing to do anything for Christ if he directs it. It will not be a sad and gloomy thing either. Do not think that. The sad thing is to disobey him. To obey is a joy."
And so, your turn. Am I right or wrong?
There's one more part coming to this little mini-series of a post.
In planning, young people are bit unusual. We've watched our grandparents and parents plan perfectly and stay in the same house in the same town at the same job all their lives. At points, they look a bit miserable or at least a little bored, so we're hesitant to take their advice when they try to tell us a thing or two about prudent planning. We can't make up our minds and look a bit bewildered when faced with monumental decisions. Rapid paces of technological and societal advancement tell us we can't predict the future, so why bother planning? We live in the moment and let the winds of change blow us wherever they please.
On the surface, then, we look willing to submit our plans to God, but maybe that's only because we have no significant plans that we're invested in, and we would not be foolish to pursue a little more diligence in thinking toward the future more often.
All of this is one reason why Erica's and my plan for France is daunting for us and friends our age; departure is a couple of years away, and then there's three years of language and cultural acquisition, and then we get to work?! I'm finally getting to the point where departing in a year and nine months seems really soon, but I recently shared that with someone else our age and she said, "Two years?! That's really far away!"
In service and generosity, most of us are disillusioned with the American dream. We're well aware of materialism and consumerism, and we like to complain about it in philosophical discussions. Capitalism is what's ruined this country, after all. That makes us sound like we don't care about money, so it might make us sound like we're pretty generous too. Is it true? This one's a little harder to pinpoint, but part of me thinks we tell ourselves we don't care about money just so that we don't have to be diligent in doing the planning it takes to make money. Our fathers and grandfathers kept their jobs for 30 years in order to make money. Thirty years sounds like a long and miserable amount of time, so if we tell ourselves we don't care about the money, we won't have to do it.
I'd say we have great potential to be generous, because we are close to having the underlying ideologies of simplicity. But so far, I'd venture to say we're just as selfish as the next person. We like to get and hold on to our "stuff" just as much; we just have more trickier arguments and discussions that excuse it.
In order to get to France, Erica and I have to raise a lot of support. That means people are going to have to give us money. Our generation hates this idea. Why? Probably because, ultimately, we don't want to give our money away. So we dress it up and say all missionaries should be "tent-makers" because "that's what Paul did," and while I don't dismiss those ideas lightly at all, I'm wondering if we say that so the missionaries can earn their keep and we can keep our earnings. But, I'm slowly coming around to the idea myself: could it be that God doesn't mind some of his believers giving generously so that others can devote themselves and all of their time to his ministry?
Finally, obedience. Plain and simple, we are awful at obedience. We've labeled anyone who preaches about obedience a legalist and a Pharisee. We've grown up hearing, "You don't know me," and "You can't judge me," and "Who are you to tell me what to do?" We have a horrible time responding to authority, and we hate being told what to do. So we have more philosophical discussions about judging others and legalism and the authority of scripture (everything's cultural! everything's relative!), all of which have some validity, but the underlying motivation is really that we want to live however we want to live. We love our lives. We call ourselves followers of Christ without actually following him. We're attempting to have our cake and eat it too, as they say.
James Montgomery Boice said it better than I could:
"For some reason the idea is current today that, because God is gracious and loving, a Christian can therefore enjoy the fullness of God’s blessing without at the same time accepting the full lordship of the Lord Jesus Christ in his or her life. This is not biblical. Those who have convinced themselves of this ignore God’s laws. They disregard his instructions about the permanency of marriage, for instance. They ignore his instructions about continuing to meet together with other Christians. They do not live by the highest of moral standards. So they are not happy, and they do not know why. Well this is why. They have not died to their own desires in order that they might live for Christ. They have not been crucified with him. They have not obeyed him. Jesus may be their Savior, but he is not truly their Lord.
It is not pleasant to be crucified, I know. But you will never truly live in the full spiritual sense until you are. Losing your life means you must be willing to do anything for Christ if he directs it. It will not be a sad and gloomy thing either. Do not think that. The sad thing is to disobey him. To obey is a joy."
And so, your turn. Am I right or wrong?
There's one more part coming to this little mini-series of a post.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Hating Life, part 2
In John 12, we get some good examples of the contrast between hating life and loving life.
Mary freely gives a years' wages in perfume, probably her most valuable possession, to her Savior in love, in understanding, in gratitude as she acknowledged is impending death. She hated her life, not thinking twice about holding on to such a generous sacrifice.
Judas, on the other hand, gives up on this guy he's been following, because Christ is obviously not as interested in good business practices and get-rich-quick schemes as he is. He loves his life, and because of that, he will lose it just a short time after.
The people in Jerusalem are loving their lives, cheering for what they think is an earthly king that will lead an earthly revolt and set up an earthly kingdom, giving them earthly comfort finally outside the control of Rome. A week later, they realize he's not the king they thought he was and yell, "Crucify him!"
But what does it mean for us to hate our lives? This past Sunday I challenged my church body to hate their lives in terms of obedience, service, and life plans.
Making Christ our Lord and King means following his every command. Today's church seems to be reacting against all sorts of ideas, and we seem to be forgetting that God calls us to be holy. We do not respond well to authority in today's culture. We don't like people telling us what to do, and yet, that is largely what the Christian life is about. We are called to obedience. Paul compares the life of a Christian to the life of an athlete, soldier, and farmer. All three of these people, for different reasons, can't live life however they please. There are many things they must do and not do. It is no different as a Christian. This is not at all legalism, this is part of what it means to follow Christ.
As mentioned in the last post, hating our lives means giving of our time, money, and resources. We must serve the body of Christ and we must serve our unbelieving neighbors. If all that we have belongs to God, and if he gave so generously to us through the sacrifice of his Son, what right do we have to be tight-fisted with anything we can offer? Our materialistic culture pulls us so easily, but we must be willing and ready to share, share everything, and share often. You don't need such a padded savings account, anyway. Clowney says, "Our heavenly Father knows our needs and will supply them, but building bigger barns to store surplus crops for our own easy and security is not seeking the Kingdom of God; it is worldly folly, the service of mammon." In a recession, we hear the panic around us and we're tempted to hold on to everything we've got. But instead, now is the time to share more than ever.
Finally, certain personalities have their entire lives planned out perfectly. There is nothing wrong with planning, but the people I'm talking about here will insist and argue with God until the get their own way. A certain degree to obtain that specific job with this salary, a good spouse by this age with a family started shortly thereafter, a perfect home with a two car garage, the right cars parked inside, three kids, two years between each one, two boys and a girl, a puppy and kitty cat, good pension plan, vacation home, retirement at the age of 65, tour the world before dying peacefully at home at the age of, oh, say, 85, as long as arthritis hasn't set in too badly before then. Are you willing to submit your life plans to God? He may very well see fit to fulfill your diligently made plans, but at the very least, he wants you to share them and use them for his purposes. But if he has something radically different, something that flies in the face of the American dream of stability and security, will you follow? After all, the Lord is ultimately in charge of your plan, anyway. The question is will you submit yourself to it, or rebel with bitterness?
Mary freely gives a years' wages in perfume, probably her most valuable possession, to her Savior in love, in understanding, in gratitude as she acknowledged is impending death. She hated her life, not thinking twice about holding on to such a generous sacrifice.
Judas, on the other hand, gives up on this guy he's been following, because Christ is obviously not as interested in good business practices and get-rich-quick schemes as he is. He loves his life, and because of that, he will lose it just a short time after.
The people in Jerusalem are loving their lives, cheering for what they think is an earthly king that will lead an earthly revolt and set up an earthly kingdom, giving them earthly comfort finally outside the control of Rome. A week later, they realize he's not the king they thought he was and yell, "Crucify him!"
But what does it mean for us to hate our lives? This past Sunday I challenged my church body to hate their lives in terms of obedience, service, and life plans.
Making Christ our Lord and King means following his every command. Today's church seems to be reacting against all sorts of ideas, and we seem to be forgetting that God calls us to be holy. We do not respond well to authority in today's culture. We don't like people telling us what to do, and yet, that is largely what the Christian life is about. We are called to obedience. Paul compares the life of a Christian to the life of an athlete, soldier, and farmer. All three of these people, for different reasons, can't live life however they please. There are many things they must do and not do. It is no different as a Christian. This is not at all legalism, this is part of what it means to follow Christ.
As mentioned in the last post, hating our lives means giving of our time, money, and resources. We must serve the body of Christ and we must serve our unbelieving neighbors. If all that we have belongs to God, and if he gave so generously to us through the sacrifice of his Son, what right do we have to be tight-fisted with anything we can offer? Our materialistic culture pulls us so easily, but we must be willing and ready to share, share everything, and share often. You don't need such a padded savings account, anyway. Clowney says, "Our heavenly Father knows our needs and will supply them, but building bigger barns to store surplus crops for our own easy and security is not seeking the Kingdom of God; it is worldly folly, the service of mammon." In a recession, we hear the panic around us and we're tempted to hold on to everything we've got. But instead, now is the time to share more than ever.
Finally, certain personalities have their entire lives planned out perfectly. There is nothing wrong with planning, but the people I'm talking about here will insist and argue with God until the get their own way. A certain degree to obtain that specific job with this salary, a good spouse by this age with a family started shortly thereafter, a perfect home with a two car garage, the right cars parked inside, three kids, two years between each one, two boys and a girl, a puppy and kitty cat, good pension plan, vacation home, retirement at the age of 65, tour the world before dying peacefully at home at the age of, oh, say, 85, as long as arthritis hasn't set in too badly before then. Are you willing to submit your life plans to God? He may very well see fit to fulfill your diligently made plans, but at the very least, he wants you to share them and use them for his purposes. But if he has something radically different, something that flies in the face of the American dream of stability and security, will you follow? After all, the Lord is ultimately in charge of your plan, anyway. The question is will you submit yourself to it, or rebel with bitterness?
Hating Life, part 1
In my dark sense of humor, every once in a while you'll hear me say, "I hate my life." I'm usually at least 90% joking, but Erica doesn't let me talk like that whether I'm joking or not, and rightly so.
But it was interesting to come across Jesus' words in John 12, where he says, "You must hate your life in order to keep it." This ended up being the theme of my preaching this past Sunday. And of course, I came to believe Christ meant something entirely different than my depressed mood swings of hating life. In fact, it's quite the opposite. When we hate our lives for the sake of Christ, only then will we truly love life, receiving the fullest of joy.
I believe it's a question of our top priorities. What is most valuable to us? What do we pursue? How do we spend our time? For what do we have time and make time? If the answers are anything other than God and furthering his kingdom, we are probably loving our lives more than we ought, and Christ says in more than one place that if we are loving our lives, we're going to lose them. What's the point if the world says we're successful but we give up our very soul?
I was challenged by this idea over spring break in reading a book by Edmund Clowney. He talks about the calling of a Christian in radical ways that aren't pushed too hard in our American churches. While we still like to hold on to our comfort pretty well, he talked about being a Christian in terms of a calling unto death, of picking up our cross and following Christ, of extreme generosity, in making every decision with "consuming purpose," with the goal of Christ and his kingdom in mind. He said things like, "The history of the Christian church is the history of 'wasted' lives," and "Leisure time is kingdom time," and "Freedom to move is freedom to serve." Most importantly, he says this:
"What your hands make, what your money buys, what your heart desires—in these you live; in these Christ calls you to gather with him those for whom he died. Because his name is written on all that you are and have, all must serve his purpose. Measure your discipleship by the things you have time for."
How many of us see our relationship with Christ in this way? I know I like my free time and possessions pretty well.
The Christian life, in many regards, should look ridiculously illogical--pure folly!--to the outside world. We spend so much energy trying to be relevant. In this world, hating your life will never be relevant.
But it was interesting to come across Jesus' words in John 12, where he says, "You must hate your life in order to keep it." This ended up being the theme of my preaching this past Sunday. And of course, I came to believe Christ meant something entirely different than my depressed mood swings of hating life. In fact, it's quite the opposite. When we hate our lives for the sake of Christ, only then will we truly love life, receiving the fullest of joy.
I believe it's a question of our top priorities. What is most valuable to us? What do we pursue? How do we spend our time? For what do we have time and make time? If the answers are anything other than God and furthering his kingdom, we are probably loving our lives more than we ought, and Christ says in more than one place that if we are loving our lives, we're going to lose them. What's the point if the world says we're successful but we give up our very soul?
I was challenged by this idea over spring break in reading a book by Edmund Clowney. He talks about the calling of a Christian in radical ways that aren't pushed too hard in our American churches. While we still like to hold on to our comfort pretty well, he talked about being a Christian in terms of a calling unto death, of picking up our cross and following Christ, of extreme generosity, in making every decision with "consuming purpose," with the goal of Christ and his kingdom in mind. He said things like, "The history of the Christian church is the history of 'wasted' lives," and "Leisure time is kingdom time," and "Freedom to move is freedom to serve." Most importantly, he says this:
"What your hands make, what your money buys, what your heart desires—in these you live; in these Christ calls you to gather with him those for whom he died. Because his name is written on all that you are and have, all must serve his purpose. Measure your discipleship by the things you have time for."
How many of us see our relationship with Christ in this way? I know I like my free time and possessions pretty well.
The Christian life, in many regards, should look ridiculously illogical--pure folly!--to the outside world. We spend so much energy trying to be relevant. In this world, hating your life will never be relevant.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Student Survey
I absolutely promise I am not posting this to "toot my own horn" as they say. Rather, I simply just need to share what a student wrote on a survey, purely because it's quite funny and sweet, not to mention unusually well-written for my crop of 5th graders. In response to the question, "What does Mr. Shorb do well?" one girl wrote:
"He is good at making things interesting at a kid's level. I mean, come on. Name one teacher that plays his ukulele in class to teach a lesson. Forget about that! Name one teacher that knows how to play the ukulele, let alone bringing it in to teach a lesson."
"He is good at making things interesting at a kid's level. I mean, come on. Name one teacher that plays his ukulele in class to teach a lesson. Forget about that! Name one teacher that knows how to play the ukulele, let alone bringing it in to teach a lesson."
Monday, April 06, 2009
Bachelor Life 2
Erica's in California again.
I really can and usually do take care of myself. I do my fair share of grocery shopping and cooking and cleaning as it is. I can wake myself up and get out of bed on my own when she's around.
But something happens when your spouse leaves. Everything tends to fall apart. I woke up an hour later than I wanted to this morning.
I didn't eat breakfast. No cereal, no eggs, no toast on hand.
It was slim pickings for dinner, too, but thankfully it was Monday Madness at Little Caesar's. It really is pretty much impossible to pass up a large pizza for $3.99, no matter how completely awful it makes you feel immediately afterwards.
Now, I just got back home, and fed myself espresso chip ice cream and a glass of ginger ale for a bedtime snack.
Pathetic.
Something tells me I shouldn't be admitting all of this on the internet.
I really can and usually do take care of myself. I do my fair share of grocery shopping and cooking and cleaning as it is. I can wake myself up and get out of bed on my own when she's around.
But something happens when your spouse leaves. Everything tends to fall apart. I woke up an hour later than I wanted to this morning.
I didn't eat breakfast. No cereal, no eggs, no toast on hand.
It was slim pickings for dinner, too, but thankfully it was Monday Madness at Little Caesar's. It really is pretty much impossible to pass up a large pizza for $3.99, no matter how completely awful it makes you feel immediately afterwards.
Now, I just got back home, and fed myself espresso chip ice cream and a glass of ginger ale for a bedtime snack.
Pathetic.
Something tells me I shouldn't be admitting all of this on the internet.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
On Christ, the great Paradox
I am preparing to the preach the second sermon of my lifetime on this coming Sunday, Palm Sunday. Because it is Palm Sunday, I feel some amount of obligation to preach on the event and its meaning. That has come a bit intimidating to me, mostly because I've realized that I've spent 25 Palm Sundays sitting in the pew of a church, and I'm still not very confident that I could articulate the significance of the story.
I'm turning my sights to John 12, which admittedly could very well be biting off more than I can chew, especially because it's hard to look at John 12 without looking at John 11, and it's hard looking at John 11 without looking at John 1-10. And that's where we get carried away. Attention spans are only so long.
I turned to Carl for help. When preaching the second sermon of a lifetime, I figure it's best to turn to the man who has been preaching for over 50 years of his and is always excited to help. We went upstairs in his house to his small office and he started pulling books off his shelf like he was introducing me to old friends of his, telling me this author was a dutchman and that author was a professor of his and before I knew it, I was carrying six large books down the stairs, as if I would have time to turn to each of them in a week's preparation.
Each book has his name written in the cover, with the date it was added to his library. One was added March of '56, another February of '51. These are the books whose bindings are slightly falling apart and whose pages smell really nice like the long forgotten books in the library. But there is a reason he still comes back to these books fifty (fifty!) years later.
In reading Christ in his Suffering by K. Schilder, Ph.D., I turned to the section about Mary pouring a bottle of expensive perfume on Christ's head and feet which can be found in the text-of-the-week John 12. Dr. Schilder discusses the ongoing humility of Christ throughout his ministry, yet his willingness to accept such an extravagant gesture in light of his impending death. Seems a bit contradictory. And finally, we reach these short paragraphs. I can't say why exactly this struck me to the point of sharing with you, other than the sheer complexity and richness of the God-man who is our Savior, but I leave it with you this morning nevertheless:
"Really, this Prophet is a hard teacher. He proposes riddle after riddle. A person has hardly grown accustomed to one thing before He suggests another, apparently contradictory to it.
And, looking at the matter thus, we, too, are inclined to regard the story of the anointing, at first hearing it, as a gentle idyll in the drama of the passion. It seems to be a lyrical episode, attractive to all who hear it. But, viewing it in its great setting, we say of it: This is a hard message; who can bear to hear it? Ah yes, Lord, there is but one answer: Hear Him, hear Him!"
I'm turning my sights to John 12, which admittedly could very well be biting off more than I can chew, especially because it's hard to look at John 12 without looking at John 11, and it's hard looking at John 11 without looking at John 1-10. And that's where we get carried away. Attention spans are only so long.
I turned to Carl for help. When preaching the second sermon of a lifetime, I figure it's best to turn to the man who has been preaching for over 50 years of his and is always excited to help. We went upstairs in his house to his small office and he started pulling books off his shelf like he was introducing me to old friends of his, telling me this author was a dutchman and that author was a professor of his and before I knew it, I was carrying six large books down the stairs, as if I would have time to turn to each of them in a week's preparation.
Each book has his name written in the cover, with the date it was added to his library. One was added March of '56, another February of '51. These are the books whose bindings are slightly falling apart and whose pages smell really nice like the long forgotten books in the library. But there is a reason he still comes back to these books fifty (fifty!) years later.
In reading Christ in his Suffering by K. Schilder, Ph.D., I turned to the section about Mary pouring a bottle of expensive perfume on Christ's head and feet which can be found in the text-of-the-week John 12. Dr. Schilder discusses the ongoing humility of Christ throughout his ministry, yet his willingness to accept such an extravagant gesture in light of his impending death. Seems a bit contradictory. And finally, we reach these short paragraphs. I can't say why exactly this struck me to the point of sharing with you, other than the sheer complexity and richness of the God-man who is our Savior, but I leave it with you this morning nevertheless:
"Really, this Prophet is a hard teacher. He proposes riddle after riddle. A person has hardly grown accustomed to one thing before He suggests another, apparently contradictory to it.
And, looking at the matter thus, we, too, are inclined to regard the story of the anointing, at first hearing it, as a gentle idyll in the drama of the passion. It seems to be a lyrical episode, attractive to all who hear it. But, viewing it in its great setting, we say of it: This is a hard message; who can bear to hear it? Ah yes, Lord, there is but one answer: Hear Him, hear Him!"
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