Church sketch 5

Sometimes I think people expect everyone to use a particular mouth filter — certain things are acceptable or not acceptable to feel, think, or say. It’s not quite voicelessness — you’re allowed to speak — as long as you speak within the accepted parameters. Sometimes it feels like being silent would be better.

Jesus said that out of the heart the mouth speaks. I don’t want or need a heart filter — my heart is what it is, and filtering changes nothing. I trust him that my heart is a new creation, made righteous, clean, blameless — and that he will complete that work.

(These were thoughts on the way to church, that I sketched once we’d sat down.)

Our current sermon series is about heaven, and today’s focus was on relationships.

(I’d started randomly drawing a chorister, and then as Scott joked about how some in the congregation might wish they could still be married in heaven, others were glad they wouldn’t be, I thought of that Meat Loaf song… “And now I’m praying for the end of time, so I can end my time with you.”)

Church sketch 4

Some days it seems the songs evoke more images than the rest of the service does. This one should also have “If this life I lose” between “Where you go I’ll go” and “I will follow you.”

Daniel faithfully praying is a thread uniting the book.

Church sketch 2 and 3

These first two were from last week. We were looking at Ezra, and the folks already living in the land were telling the returned exiles that they also sought God and sacrificed to him and wanted to help with the work. Perhaps they were lying, and were mostly motivated to take over, to gain some kind of upper hand. Perhaps they had adopted God along with their own pantheon, instead of worshiping him alone. For whatever reason, the returned exiles said the existing folks had no part in God and no part in the work.

A stylized portrait of friends, and of Amy and me held in God’s invisible hand, and some of the lyrics to one of the songs we sang that morning.

Amy loves Sunday school. She’s learning some Bible verses and stories. She gets to do some fun crafts and games. They’re pretty creative with it all. They encourage the kids to bring their Bible to Sunday school — it’s one of several things they can do that earns them the right to put a marble in the jar. When the jar is full, all the kids get a little prize. Really, not a big deal. I’m just not a big fan of reward systems — when the reward is external, it’s empty — it may jumpstart a good habit, but it doesn’t help sustain a good habit (at least not longer than the reward system is in place) and it can interfere with intrinsic motivation. Think about how grades derail the joy and purpose of learning. Things worth doing have their own reward built in. The intrinsic reward of having a Bible is being able to read it and refer to it, and thereby to gain knowledge and wisdom of God and of people.

Today was Parent – Child Dedication day — several families came forward with their babies to show their intention to raise them in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and the congregation gets to show their commitment to help these families in that task. It’s like baptism — and totally unlike it at the same time. The church gave each family a parenting book. From a previous conversation with the pastor about parenting resources, I’m guessing the book is Shepherding a Child’s Heart, which admittedly has some good points, such as a big emphasis on relationship, but has some big problems, too, such as claiming (against good exegesis) that the Bible mandates spanking, and assuming rebellion where it’s highly unlikely to exist. It actually doesn’t advocate paddling — instead it describes in great detail how spanking with the hand is to be executed. I just drew a paddle because it’s easier and conveys the point more obviously.

I want to add that I really appreciated the emphasis, throughout the sermon, on relationship-building in the home. When authentic and warm relationship is really and truly the aim, I think it can sort of redeem the spanking and such. At least I hope so, and it seems that way in at least some families.

A little one with her parents and the congregation, in the hand of God.

Church sketch

Recently a friend linked to Makoto Fujimura’s essay on Visual Theology, which led me to John Hendrix’s Drawings in church. I have no idea how Hendrix can create something so comprehensive and cohesive during a sermon, without knowing all the bits ahead of time. Anyway, I decided to swap my usual knitting for my sketchbook this week, and here is the sum total of my churchy doodling from today.

A few lines from a song:

A newcomer’s lunch was announced… along with some form of the word “assimilation;” they of course meant it as helping folks fit in, feel welcome, get a sense of belonging, but I was thinking of the Borg.

The sermon text was Daniel 9:20-27, in which archangel Gabriel interrupts Daniel’s prayer of repentance — personal and on behalf of his nation — to tell him that God will act, that there will be an end to sin and an end to the exile — Jesus himself is both.

Scott (our pastor) interprets this passage from the perspective of Dispensationalism. We’re more on the Covenant Theology side of things, but we’re also quite interested in N. T. Wright’s historical perspective.

Trust and gullibility (and marshmallows)

1. So, on the one hand, I want to trust people, such as my daughter. On the other hand, I don’t want to be gullible or susceptible to deception or manipulation.

It is not always easy to know when to err on which side.

I thought I had a lot more to say about this than that, but that seems to be the issue in a nutshell. I guess it’s also about figuring out what it really means to respect people (including Amy) and to try to always view and act with compassion. I occasionally find inspiration and conviction and encouragement from Karyn Van Der Zwet, Janet Lansbury, Laura Grace Weldon, Teacher Tom, and Amy’s teachers and other Montessorians, to name a few.

(Ah, here’s one — Amy has to pee (after bedtime) at exactly the same time she hears Mark turn off the TV and head to bed? Or hears anything else interesting?)

I will add that I’m thinking partly (and only partly, although I can’t think of the other things that have triggered this thought) about the article someone linked recently, about a school ruling that kids would have to stay after school to make up missed class time if they went to the bathroom during class hours (vs. between classes) more than three times in a day. Yeah, some kids are going to use the bathroom to waste time. But it seems better to trust that in general, kids are going to use the bathroom because they have to pee. And it makes one think, how can we improve the environment so that wasting time is less appealing, and so that using the bathroom is less disruptive.

2. Also? Words are seriously powerful.

The church we have been attending most recently, and feel like we are likely to keep attending, has been experiencing enough increase in numbers that they have developed an expansion plan. They are, properly respectfully, making a good effort to get feedback from the congregation before going forward.

In response to a number of people being concerned that getting bigger will negatively impact the relational atmosphere of the church, the pastor said something very much like “We don’t want to stunt what God is doing here just because we want to be comfortable.” And I really understand and respect his point.

On the other hand, wow, what a loaded statement! Consider if someone else had said, for example, “We don’t want to risk losing our most valuable asset just because we want more warm bodies to count.” Same loadedness, in the opposite direction.

3. Speaking of church, three times in the last two months, marshmallows have been part of snack in Sunday School. Yeah, that’s only three times in the last two months, and they’ve been served with something else (goldfish once, graham crackers another time). And it’s not going to kill anyone.

And yet, I find myself cursing the invention of packaged crackers and candies and convenience foods in general. It would be easier to wash some grapes or slice some carrots than it would be to make candy or crackers from scratch. And that’s the way it used to be, and that’s why people ate more grapes and carrots than candy and crackers.

And yes, I’ve thought about offering to bring in some snacks, or talking to the people in charge, and… while I feel strongly enough to want to vent about the issue, I’m a little reluctant to be the insufferable activist. I might anyway. I hope I can do so in the least offensive way possible.

Love Week

Today we visited CrossRoads, an Evangelical Free church we’ve visited a few times before.

I hadn’t realized I’d been missing contemporary music. We sing some older contemporary at our current church, but not many of the ones I especially like. And it was nice to hear a band again — drums, electric guitar, etc. The band wasn’t too loud; we could hear people singing around us and hear ourselves. And while this church maybe (this is just one Sunday, after all) could use more songs about God and his other attributes, it was refreshing to hear and sing about his love for us. (Not in the Jesus-is-my-boyfriend sense that some contemporary music carries.)

It was nice to be with more than a dozen other families.

Amy enjoyed her Sunday School class — decent snack of cheese crackers and water (good — no juice, no candy), Bible story with followup activities, a song, painting, felt board play. There was a CD playing, and Amy said they didn’t have a video because the DVD was lost — I would rather have a Sunday School class without background music or video.

The church just finished something they called Love Week. There was a mission team sent to the Dominican Republic, and some other mission called Project Reach, and a ton of community service projects including clean up, painting, yard work, visitation, and so on. All ages participated. Neat idea.

The sermon was called “Is Love Week Over?” and the basic gist was, “No, it’s not — we need to keep this up every day!” I appreciate the desire to not compartmentalize, to not have service as a once in a while thing.

On the other hand, I didn’t get a good sense of the importance of sustainability. It is relatively easy to set aside normal commitments to do unusual service for a week. But to have an openness, willingness, and commitment to serve every day needs a different perspective and approach. It has to take into account ordinary commitments like work, family, and — yes — self-care, friends, rest, and the like.

I think of the Good Samaritan, who was not on a mission trip, not going out of his way to find opportunities to serve, but was merely traveling on his own business — he stopped to take care of a need he came across, did what he was able to do, and went on with his business. I think we need to think of service as less an extraordinary, unusual, separate, distinct thing, and think more of it as something included, something assimilated, something that is sustainable.

The text for the sermon was the first chapter of Nehemiah, in which he learns of the distressed situation of the post-exilic Israelites, mourns, and prays. The next chapter goes on to say that he went on with his normal business of being cup-bearer to the king, and that only when the king noticed and asked about his sadness did he say anything, and even then didn’t share any plans until the king asked.

Boldness, and faith that God can and does do immeasurably beyond what we ask or even imagine, does not preclude keeping up with ordinary commitments and activities, does not mean stomping preemptively on others’ sensibilities, etc. The key seems to be praying and waiting, being open, rather than too quickly jumping into grand schemes.

It was nice to visit another church. To be in our own town. And to be home well before lunch time!

On the death of Bin Laden

The pastor of the church we attended in NY, Steve Froehlich, wrote this letter to the church family:

A California elementary school teacher posted on Facebook yesterday how she was greeted that morning by one of her 6-year old students : “Osama Bin Laden is dead … is that a good thing?”

Out of the mouth of babes, eh? What an excellent question to ask, one worthy of a careful answer.

10 years ago the world changed, or at least the world that sees America at the center of global influence. The US was brutally attacked, a shrewd but cowardly action that struck at symbols of American power and claimed thousands of civilian lives. The world watched as the aura of American invincibility crumbled. The decade-long aftermath has been a costly and controversial war against a real yet shadowy enemy identified as “terrorism.” Yesterday, that war celebrated a victory with the elimination of Osama Bin Ladan, the mastermind of the 911 attacks.

“Osama Bin Laden is dead … is that a good thing?”

Bin Laden is the Hitler of our generation. So it may seem like an obviously good thing to rid the world of such a monster. Even most people who are reluctant to affirm a belief in Hell are willing to make exceptions for the Hitlers, Stalins, Pol Pots, Edi Amins, and Mao Zedongs of history. Bin Laden is a small-time player compared to that list, but he qualifies.

Is it a good thing that justice is served? Yes, I believe it is. Justice is served on the Cross, although upon the one true Innocent, and we are charged to enact justice (personally and collectively) as men and women made in the image of the One who is perfectly Just. However, we would be wise to recognize how often we imperfectly carry out justice, an awareness that should temper any hubris in its execution. We are starting to lose count of the number of people confidently sent to death row by a jury of their peers who have now been pardoned and released after a more comprehensive review of the evidence has exonerated them. For as many times as we do well in exercising justice, we seem to practice a justice that is polluted by arrogance and ignorance.

There seems to be little doubt that Bin Laden is guilty of launching the murderous assault upon American civilians in 2001 — he has celebrated his actions openly and repeatedly. Therefore, it is just for the American government to punish him for his crimes — it is a God-ordained responsibility for those entrusted and empowered to govern to use “the sword” for protection and punishment (Romans 13:3-4). Within the biblical framework of justice and punishment, requiring the life of the murderer for the life he has taken is a just measure of punishment. But it is an option, but not a requirement. In fact, I am personally quite persuaded that in common civil law, it is usually unnecessary and unwise to take the life of criminals even though they may be indisputably guilty of heinous crimes. The famous Levitical legal principle of lex talionus, “an eye for an eye” (Leviticus 24:17-22) is not a prescription for punishment, but a restraint on excessive punishment, a restraint upon our sinful impulses in meting out punishment. If we have been robbed, it is just to ask that what was taken be restored, that we be made whole. While it is just to exact the full measure of punishment that is appropriate, as was done on the Cross, we are always free to temper justice with mercy. Why? Often the punishment, in the end (if we are honest), is more about our own visceral satisfaction than the just measure of the law. Often, sadly and ironically, the pursuit of justice exacts a costly toll upon our souls — too often, in seeking justice, we become poisoned by hatred, bitterness, pride, revenge, and arrogance (Consider Javert, the policeman in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, who will not rest until the full weight of the law falls upon Jean Valjean, a pursuit that in the end drags him to a lonely and bitter death). It is no surprise then that the Lord our God calls us not only “to do justice” but also “to love kindness and to walk humbly” with our God (Micah 6:8).

We may agree that it is just that Bin Laden be punished for his crimes. But more importantly, I think, we need to examine how we respond even to the death of the wicked.

Should we be relieved that Bin Laden is dead? Should we put our heads on our pillows with the blissful belief that all is well, the dragon has been slain, and we may live happily… and safely ever after? Certainly we enjoy a measure of relief knowing that this particular dragon is no longer a threat. While we hope that the loss of a leader is a major setback for a movement committed to violence and evil, there are hundreds of dragons-in-training who are eager to take his place. The epic Lord of the Rings is the about the war against the diabolical Sauron. But in the wake of Sauron’s defeat, Gandalf warns that “other evils will come.” Our government must remain vigilant against all sorts of evils that threaten us. But so must we be vigilant in our every day lives. We are to live well-armored lives because we must not be naive about the nature of evil — it is relentless, cunning, and powerful, and we must not live our lives thinking otherwise. We may give thanks for victories, but we must fight on keeping in mind 2 realities: 1) the inescapable persistence of evil, and 2) the invincible presence of Christ. We stand firm and stand ready (Ephesians 6) knowing that “we are more than conquerors through him that loved us” (Romans 8:37) — “he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world” (1 John 4:4).

Should we be glad that Bin Laden is dead? Certainly any measure of freedom and safety resulting from his death is appropriate reason to rejoice — in that sense we may say we are glad he is dead. We are happy that the threat and evil he embodies have been removed. Also, justice is a gift to those who have been wronged by the evil-doer — when the system “works” those who have been wronged may “let go” and find a happiness in healing that is free of the corrupting impulse to seek revenge.

Yet at the same time, our hearts must be ruled by the fact that even a wicked man like Bin Laden bears the image of God. We argue that the unborn must be protected because they bear God’s image, and we must hold onto that belief when we are confronted with the most unlovable and despicable of our kind. We may be called upon to carry out just punishment of a fellow human being (parents, this includes you and your children), but we must never allow ourselves to do so glibly or gleefully. All too often we think that because we believe people deserve to be punished that we can dance on their graves — but, this is to our shame that we do so, and we add sin upon sin. Furthermore, such an attitude disgraces the image of God we bear. God is not shy about punishing the wicked — he executes judgment boldly and at times ferociously making some episodes in the Old Testament painfully difficult to read. But even God who does so with perfect justice, who is ultimately the one violated by our evil and sin and has the true right unleash the fury of his justice, does not take joy in punishing anyone. “I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Lord God so turn, and live” (Ezekiel 18:32). “As I live, declares the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; so turn back, turn back from your evil ways, for why will you die, O house of Israel?” (Ezekiel 33:11). God will punish the unrepentant in Hell — he will do so justly (as he did on the Cross) — and this certainty must kindle deep compassion in our hearts for all who reject Christ as Saviour.

Also, our taking joy in the punishment of the wicked cannot help but be an evidence of our pride. We rejoice because we have declared ourselves not-evil, not worthy of punishment. Or, in other words, we think of ourselves as righteous and deserving of the benefits of justice. But this pride is rank with self-deception. We may say, “I thank God I am not a Hitler… a Bin Laden… a Republican/Democrat…” (Luke 18:11ff). The Gospel frees us to stand fully exposed in the light of God’s grace to admit what we really are apart from him. The truth is the just estimation of our lives as expressed by the Psalmist: “If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?” The answer is: no one. We each have enough sin to merit the judgment of God that fell upon Christ. We are no less sinful than Bin Laden, and it is possible we could be guilty of the very sins he has committed were our lives not constrained by God’s grace. The Gospel demands that we make this honest assessment of ourselves. But the Psalmist does not stop with the bad news. His very next statement is this 2nd completing affirmation of the Gospel: “But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared [worshiped]” (Psalm 130:3-4).

How are we to respond to the death of Bin Laden?

* We give thanks for the benefits of justice — freedom, security.
* We sorrow over the effects of sin and the need for justice.
* We repent of our own sin mirrored in the sin of others.
* We pray for peace — God’s shalom that comes from hearts made new and lives reconciled to him.
* We renew our commitment to live righteously, humbly, mercifully, justly.
* We worship — we bow our hearts and lives before the true King, give him our allegiance again, and trust him to govern the world in such a way that his eternal purposes are brought to their undiminished fulfillment when Christ returns to make all things new.

April 21

Today I have trusted Jesus for twenty-three years.

I am confident, and I see, that God was moving in my life years before that, and Scripture tells me his eye saw me long before I was born. Following him has not been without trouble, without doubt, without change — but that’s not unexpected. The world is still broken, and under the curse; we’re in the now but not yet, as Jesus’ work, though complete, is not yet brought to fullness.

On this day, which also commemorates the final meal Jesus ate with his disciples — when he washed their feet as the lowliest servant would do, when he explained his coming sacrifice with symbols of bread and wine broken and given to them — I continue to look to him with hope and trust, for today, for tomorrow, and for the glory to come.

In a basket sits my chocolate bunny (dark, of course), Mark’s peanut butter egg, and a set of five mini bunnies for Amy. In the fridge are six uncracked hardboiled eggs waiting for a little girl to color them. Three more that are cracked wait for me to decide how or if to color them. At church there’ll be a breakfast as well as the worship service; I’m either making Easter bread or pecan sticky buns or both.

Things are greening outside, despite the cold and wet; it IS spring.

All these things are pleasant, because all of life, including fun, is in him.

Sacred _______

Gary Thomas has a line of Sacred _____ books — I really appreciated Sacred Marriage when I first read it, and am now enjoying a discussion group reading Sacred Parenting.

The basic gist is to think of _____ not as something designed or obligated merely to make you happy, but as an opportunity for growth in all sorts of ways, including sanctification / spiritual growth.

So what else could you put in the blank? Sacred Work… Sacred Chores… Sacred Traffic… Sacred Diaper-changing… Sacred Family… Sacred Social Network… Sacred Mental Illness…

How about Sacred Church?

Most of y’all know that finding a local church where we can breathe and feel at home has been a frustrating effort for us in the four years we’ve been here. I don’t think either of us is bent on some idea of perfect church — we know that every church has its flaws, annoyances, or whatever. We also have few illusions of our own perfection. And yet just about every church we’ve been to has had at least one issue that has felt serious enough to us that we couldn’t be at home there.

There’s the one where we scared the pastor with some of the theological and biblical questions and ideas we were interested in, to the point where he began questioning us to see if we were really saved. At that church, we also would not be able to be official members because of our stance on baptism — and likewise they would not have accepted Amy’s baptism. Oh, and that’s the church where the preschoolers in Sunday School sat on chairs the whole time, with no play or active time, with about fifty different lessons in one session, and each kid only got one crayon to color with while waiting for class to begin. Just as bad, in the other direction, as the church where there were videos and loud music in the nursery and candy given out in Sunday School.

There’s the one where a speaker, reminding the congregation that the pastoral staff were on their annual leadership retreat, compared the pastor to Moses, urging the congregation to accept whatever the pastor came back with as from the mouth of God. That’s also the church where, in the skit promoting the upcoming vacation Bible school, they talked about how they’d have good snacks, not the boring healthy stuff you get at school, and how they’d have fun activities, not the stupid boring story you get at the library.

What were we looking for?

The Gospel.

The good news about Jesus, God’s merciful and compassionate work on our behalf and the amazing reconciliation he offers, with all motivation for good work and ministry flowing from ever-deeper understanding of his gracious love for us.

Sermons, music, kids’ programs, everything — geared to the Gospel, without flash and slick marketing, without a “vision,” without any “draw them in with X,” without cutesy clevernesses…

The Gospel, not “do more, try harder.” And it doesn’t make it the Gospel to just tack the word “grace” on the “get your act together” message — i.e. “Make sure grace is showing in your life by doing X.” Understanding grace does lead to good works — but not when grace is wielded as a lever against people.

I understand the reaction against the “Jesus is my boyfriend / buddy” image, but I don’t want to go to the other extreme to the tyrant upstairs, either. Truth is, God DOES love us, and we OUGHT to dwell on that and wallow in it and eat and drink it until it really sinks in.

After all, it’s his kindness that leads to repentance. Nobody really repents out of mere fear — not from the heart. When I read the Prodigal Son, I’m quite sure that the guy drafted his “repentance” speech in a way calculated to get him a bed and some money. I don’t think his heart melted until his father ran to meet him and lavished grace all over him.

Anyway, all this to say, last night it occurred to me that I could trust God to deliver me from / through church. Ha. Just like I trust him with any other situation that fills me with dread, upsets me, scares me, dismays or disappoints me, tempts me to bitterness, etc.

In the same way, I can do church “to the glory of God” just as I would do anything else, even when it’s not pleasant, even when someone doesn’t deserve it, even when there are real flaws present, etc.

What bitter cynics we are, lost and relatively alone in the sea of happy Christians, but not quite part of the other crowd(s) either.

What good news it is that God loves us and has lavished mercy and grace on us, and has promised to deal with our bitter cynicism along with every other evil, without maiming us in the process.

Grace Reformed Pres. Women’s Retreat

It’s late, and I don’t feel like re-formatting the pictures from the retreat. You’re welcome to go see them via Facebook instead.

This is a women’s retreat unlike any other I’ve participated in.

First of all, super short! We arrived around seven Friday evening, and left around eleven Saturday morning. Now, I did share a ride with some folks, and the whole group stopped at the same place for lunch around one, so that extends the time, but still.

Secondly, a major focus of time and energy was a charity work. I’m not sure what all they’ve done in past years, but this year they were looking for new ideas, and I suggested washable menstrual pads for women and girls in, say, Africa, who miss a LOT of school or work due to lack of supplies. Some cut, some assembled, some sewed by hand, some sewed by machine, and some hammered snaps. We used flannel from a thrifted duvet cover — two layers sandwiching a slice of waterproof crib pad, to make a base pad that snaps around the underwear, and four layers zigzagged together to make stackable liners that slip into ribbon bands on the base pad. I think we finished twenty-nine sets!

We stayed up way later than I ever do (around two or so), playing silly games. The three teens were in bed before most of the adults. I learned a new one, Chase the Ace, which is a fast-paced dice game. And I taught everyone Viking, also fast-paced, with silly coordinated motions and yelling.

There was a short devotion in the morning, and — that’s all!