Greener grass

A couple of weeks ago Melissa had a guest post on our friend Annie’s blog. Side note: our friend Annie is a real writer, and a good one. Check out her book, especially if you have tween or teenage girls.

Melissa’s post was about how single women can love their mom friends. We’ve heard a good bit of advice on how married folks can love (and be sensitive to) singles– advice we need and appreciate– and not much going the other way. I am far from objective but thought her post was terrific. Also, Annie the Real Writer had a good response the next day.

One theme that emerged in the comments was that singles and parents want what each other has. Parents (myself included) look at our single friends and see sleeping late on Saturdays, spontaneous dinners out, freedom from worrying about whether somebody should go to the doctor, etc. But mostly the sleep. I cannot emphasize this enough.

At the same time, singles look at families and see love with security, a deep sense of home, belonging. For many, the family with kids and all the craziness that whole scene brings is the picture of what they want, and fear they might not get. I remember how much I ached for kids of my own, even when surrounded by friends’ kids I loved.

The grass is always greener on the other side.

It’s tempting to respond to this tendency with a sort of equivalency argument. “Well, some things are better about being single; some things are better about being married with kids.” But that’s kind of cheap. It’s not a zero sum game. I do miss sleep (and Melissa misses a lot more of it), but I wouldn’t trade being a dad for anything. I love our family life, but it means other relationships go on the back burner. Less time to do things that are fun and good. There are gains and there are losses, and to try to equal them out cheapens both.

When we have our “grass is greener” moments, we shouldn’t indulge them and grow bitter at those who have what we want. But maybe we shouldn’t talk ourselves out of them with “well, at least” arguments, either. I think, instead, we must acknowledge that there is much that is beautiful and much that is hard in every season. The hard doesn’t take away the beauty, nor the beauty the hardness. They’re both just there. We can relish one, mourn the other, and know that most of both is temporary. The greenest pastures here have nothing on those beyond. And there we’ll get all the rest we need.

Thoughts on Les Misérables

It might surprise some readers to learn that I went through a pretty serious musical theater phase in high school. (It will surprise me to learn that there are some readers.) That phase was dominated by a love for and fascination with Les Misérables. It was the first show I saw on Broadway. I bought the CD’s on the way out, devoured the libretto, read the novel (really, the whole thing), you name it. So seeing the movie was like sitting down with old friends. I hadn’t listened to the music in well over 10 years, and it was delightful. Here are some thoughts.

***

It was just a beautifully done film. Faithful to the musical (I mean, basically it was the musical, but still), told the story well, the singing didn’t seem awkward like I feared. Just excellent.

***

Hathaway. Jackman. Oscar.

***

Seriously, Anne Hathaway was terrific. I’ve seen the show on stage three times, I think, and the anniversary concert, and listened to the original cast a bunch, but Hathaway was far and away the best Fantine I’ve heard. Her tortured, wistful, bitter “I Dreamed A Dream” rescued the song from the audition-piece cliché it’s become. Her voice was good enough that I stopped thinking about whether or not she could sing. None of the other Hollywood actors in the movie pulled that off.

***

If she doesn’t get Best Actress, they should create a new Oscar called “Knocking It Out Of The Park In Two Movies In A Single Year.” Then, because that’s a bad title, after this year they could call it the Hathaway Oscar.

***

My only real complaint was with the pace. It seemed like there was a need to shave the time, but they didn’t want to cut songs, so they’d do a little of each song. That made it seem hurried to me. I mean, why do “Drink With Me” if you’re only going to do two lines of it? I wouldn’t have minded some songs just not showing up if it let the story move a little more gradually.

***

OK, another complaint: In the book, musical and film, it doesn’t make any sense how Valjean all of a sudden decides he has to still be punished once Marius and Cosette get together. I’ve always thought this. Throughout his life he’s this picture of receiving and extending grace, and then he seems to revert to some uber-Catholic notion of needing to be purged of his guilt. This is probably me wanting to make Hugo a Protestant instead of merely an anti-Catholic, but it also shows one often cannot shake the influence of worldviews one is trying to throw off.

***

When I was in high school I thought Marius was terrific and that he and Cosette had a great love story. Watching the movie I thought “Who is this sentimental fool, and what is he good for other than preening in front of beautiful women?” Probably the difference between being a fairly dramatic and romantic 16-year-old and being 30+ with a wife, kids and job. (Incidentally the 30+ me is much happier and loves much more deeply.)

***

Colm Wilkinson as the Bishop just absolutely made my week. I’m still thinking about it. Such a perfect pick. Brilliant. Totally took me by surprise, and I sat there grinning like an idiot through his whole scene.

***

Other characters: The adult Cosette was fine, but sort of forgettable. I think it might be the character, not the actress. The Thenárdiers were great; Helena Bonham Carter sort of overshadowed Sacha Baron Cohen, I thought, which is quite an accomplishment. The revolutionaries all blended together, and we don’t know why one of them was especially broken over Gavroche’s death.

***

Bless Russell Crowe’s heart. He just doesn’t have the best voice, but he put it out there. I felt like it worked, perhaps made him an even better Javert. (Trivia: “Stars” was my cliché audition piece. Shockingly it never really got me anywhere.) He played the self-confidence, the vindictiveness, then the confusion and lost-ness very well.

***

I’m ready to see it again.

Lots of worship music is lame, but it doesn’t have to be.

Lots of modern worship music is bad. Bad lyrics, bad music, bad theology. But that’s not my point.

My point is it doesn’t have to be bad. There are excellent, deep, beautiful, honest, spiritually rich worship songs being written today. I wish to offer two examples and an observation.

Example 1: Aaron Keyes. Listen especially to his 2011 Dwell. Now I’m partial to hymns, and the ones of these I like the best are hymn-like (“Sinless Savior” and “Song of Moses” are my favorites). But not all of them. Look at “I Am Not The Same”:

You restore the wasted years
You build the broken walls
Your love replaces fear
Your mercy makes us whole

Adopted, healed, and lifted

I am not the same; I’m a new creation
I am not the same anymore
I am not ashamed; I will not be shaken
I am not the same anymore

This is simple without being shallow, light without being vapid, celebratory without making us sound like cheerleaders. “Adopted.” We get lots of “child of God” in modern worship, which is great, but not much about adoption, which is how we become children of God.

Example 2: Sandra McCracken. I cannot recommend In Feast Or Fallow enough, and I also recommend you follow that link to read her comments on the songs. The album has a beautiful little song anticipating the birth of her daughter, immediately followed by a treatment of Psalm 88, the only psalm of lament that doesn’t move toward praise at the end. She explains:

When we decided to include “Hidden Place” on the album, I was a little concerned about the one-sidedness of this story.  By including a song about having a baby, you touch a nerve of many women who are not able to have a baby, or couples who have lost a baby, and all manner of grief of this kind… And since honest joy and honest grief are both recorded in the prayers of God’s people throughout church history, I wanted to give a fresh voice to both on this album.

This is aesthetically beautiful, theologically rich, personally thoughtful. The whole album is excellent. From the title track:

In the harvest feast or the fallow ground,
My certain hope is in Jesus found
My lot, my cup, my portion sure
Whatever comes, we shall endure
Whatever comes, we shall endure

The harmonies on that song are also exquisite. I’m a pretty quick study when it comes to learning songs, and I had to walk around listening to it for about 3 days to get them right. Again: Truth, non-trite encouragement, musical excellence. This can be done.

Observation: I know from Sandra’s history with Indelible Grace that she has spent years absorbing great hymns. I don’t know what Aaron listens to, but I know he reads lots of Scripture– his songs are thick with it. Same for Sandra. In both cases, the quality of their influences shows through quite nicely. So here’s the point: Feed on good things, and your output will be good.

If you want to write songs that help us worship Jesus, thank you. Please soak yourself in Scripture, in the words of faithful saints throughout church history, in things that are beautiful and lovely and true and real. We can tell the difference when you do.

Stop telling lies about me.

Christians can and should debate politics. There’s room for diversity of opinion, and therefore for healthy debate, on the best application of biblical principles to public policy. You do not have to be a Republican or a conservative to be a faithful Christian. Everybody hear that? Good.

All our speech is to be “gracious, seasoned with salt”– that is, every word we speak in public and private should be flavored with the Gospel, as salt flavors food. This applies whether we’re speaking face to face or screen to screen; whether we know who we’re talking to or not.

So, progressive Christians, when you say or repeat or link approvingly to those who casually assume that Republicans don’t care about the poor, that we hate homosexuals, that we’re only concerned with babies before they’re born, or that women’s health doesn’t matter to us, you’re not just engaging in bad logic (ad hominem, imputing motives, poisoning the well, begging the question, etc)– you’re encouraging hateful slander against many brothers and sisters for whom Christ died. Please, stop doing this.

There are people in both parties who are concerned only with power, who could care less about anyone’s good but their own. And there are people in both parties, third parties, and no party who have honest differences on a thousand different questions of how to make the country better. When we assume the worst about those on the other side, we’re contributing to the poisonous state of our discourse that we all complain about.

On the loss

The vast majority of conservative thinkers thought that the polls were weighted too heavily toward the Democrats, and that Romney would win. In fact, the polls were right, and the vast majority of conservative thinkers were wrong.

So starting Wednesday, collectively from the right side of the Internet, there was an outcry: We were robbed! Obama cheated! The election was stolen!

Oh, wait. That didn’t happen.

Actually, what happened was a lot of mea culpas. From the guys I read (we’re not talking anonymous blog commenters here. They’re terrible on both sides.) there was surprise, disappointment, and honesty: Wow. We read this totally wrong. The electorate is not what we thought it was.

I’m disappointed too. There are permanent consequences to this election. But the reaction on the right gives me hope. There can be sober analysis without self-delusion, and we can learn from this. If we’re willing.

***

As many on the right have pointed out, the USA is not a center-right country anymore. A center-right country does not elect Barack Obama twice. Republicans must realize this, and here for me is the most important point we must take away from this election: We must find leaders who can persuade.

We need guys who will go before hostile and skeptical audiences and make the conservative case, across the board. We need to refuse to be portrayed as anti-poor, anti-woman. These are lies, and they need to make us angry. Instead of being terrified that we’ll look anti-poor or anti-woman, we need to show righteous indignation at that charge. We need to point out that those attacks are simply fear-mongering, and show exactly why our policies are better for the poor, better for women, and so on.

We need a nominee who will go to the NAACP and say “You’ve been voting lock-step with the Democrats for 50 years. Has it gotten you anywhere?” We need a nominee who will go on with Jon Stewart, laugh some at his own expense, and then absolutely destroy the cliché arguments that get thrown at him– and have fun doing it.

We can’t play it safe anymore. We have to talk about big ideas, knowing that about 55% of the country is not inclined to agree. We have to change their minds.

***

Along those lines, here’s a speech I kept wanting Romney to give this summer:

You know, the other side’s been talking about me having a lot of money. He’s right. I made a ton of money last year, and I gave a ton of money away. You know how I got my money? I’m damned good at my job. You know what my job is? I come in and fix things when they’re bad. I take things that are losing money and make them make money. Then the people in charge make money, and they hire more people, and those people make money. I’ve done this a lot.

I also raised some eyebrows the other day when I said I like being able to fire people. You know what? I do like being able to fire people. I think if people don’t do their job well, they ought to be fired. Their bosses ought to fire them. That’s called “accountability,” and we need more of it in Washington, not less.

Now I’m asking you for a job. You’re the people in charge. I’m asking you for another chance to do what I’m really good at: Turning things around. And if you hire me, and I don’t perform, then you get to fire me. How’s that sound?

If the president wants to talk about my money or my background, that’s fine. I welcome that talk. I’d go up for a job interview against this guy any day of the week.

We all get to dream, you know.

***

With this, I’m taking a little break from politics for a bit. Which brings me to my final thought: I have a ton of respect for the guys who do this stuff for a living– the Senators and congressmen and governors and all that. Because after a bummer election, I can stop thinking about it for awhile, but they have to get up the next morning and figure out what to do– how to regroup, where to compromise and where to stand firm, all that. I don’t envy them.

Guys, man up and show your love.

This fall the Bible study we host in our home is studying lesser-known OT figures. This week was Jonathan, the son of Saul and friend of David.

There are several passages describing David and Jonathan’s friendship.

As soon as he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. And Saul took him that day and would not let him return to his father’s house. Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt.
(1 Samuel 18:1-4)

And as soon as the boy had gone, David rose from beside the stone heap and fell on his face to the ground and bowed three times. And they kissed one another and wept with one another, David weeping the most. Then Jonathan said to David, “Go in peace, because we have sworn both of us in the name of the LORD, saying, ‘The LORD shall be between me and you, and between my offspring and your offspring, forever.’” And he rose and departed, and Jonathan went into the city.
(1 Samuel 20:41-42)

“How the mighty have fallen
in the midst of the battle!
“Jonathan lies slain on your high places.
I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan;
very pleasant have you been to me;
your love to me was extraordinary,
surpassing the love of women.
(2 Samuel 1:25-26)

Be honest: These passages make you a little uncomfortable, don’t they? They do me. I don’t talk like this with my guy friends. And as you might expect, there’s no shortage of speculation about the details of David and Jonathan’s relationship. Interestingly, the same is true of Abraham Lincoln. There are ridiculously unsubstantiated fringe rumors that Lincoln was homosexual, based on his healthy friendships with men and the fact that he shared a bed with another man in a rooming-house– an entirely normal practice in his day.

In fact, read letters between men from about 1900 or earlier and you’ll be surprised at how open they are in expressing affection. In contrast, guys today typically express our positive regard by making fun of each other, or we don’t express it at all. Our loss. (It’s worth noting that David and Jonathan, who were willing to express themselves as above, were quite masculine, what with all the bear/lion/giant-killing and the multiple-soldiers-overtaking and such. It’s not like they were over at the coffeehouse reading Derrida all day.)

Why is this? I think that, ironically, it has to do with our culture’s obsession with normalizing homosexuality and blurring the distinction between the sexes. It is very rare that you’ll find an article about Christianity and homosexuality that doesn’t bring up David and Jonathan (or, even more strangely, Naomi and Ruth). The reason that’s ironic is that the alleged sexual liberators are supposed to be the ones who are comfortable with people being secure and free about their feelings. But let two men express affection, and suddenly they’re a closet case. Men have learned this lesson, and now we know: Don’t show your love for another dude. It’ll be taken the wrong way.

It’s a shame that this is where we are. It’s a shame that our culture can’t appreciate masculinity and femininity in all their varied forms, that we have to flatten the distinctions and ignore the obvious, lest we be accused of bigotry. But we don’t have to bow to it, guys. We need good, healthy, life-giving, and yes, affectionate relationships with other men. Part of getting there is being willing to express our love for each other, without fearing that it will make things weird.

Is ordination biblical?

Recently on Facebook (attention-getting opener NAILED IT) someone I like and respect said

The false distinction between “clergy” and “laity” is perhaps Satan’s most effective tool to both prevent the spiritual maturation of believers and to maintain division within the church.

There are a few ways you could interpret that, and below you’ll find me agreeing with one of them. But it seems to me like he’s saying that there should be no clergy or laity– no distinction at all. Certainly there are people who feel this way. When I was ordained we had some friends who wouldn’t come to the service because they believed ordination itself was an unbiblical concept. They said, “You know we don’t think he needs a special title to serve God!”

So it’s a fair question: Is ordination biblical? Short answer: Yes.

In the OT we see God calling specific people to specific tasks. Often there’s even a ceremony, we might say, in which that person is installed in their role. So God tells Moses (Ex 28-29) exactly how Aaron should be installed as high priest over Israel, and that same procedure is repeated for Aaron’s descendants. God also chooses kings for his people. Saul (1 Sam 10) and David (1 Sam 16) are both anointed by Samuel, God’s representative, just as Aaron was anointed by Moses.

Under the New Covenant, Jesus is our Prophet, Priest and King. There is no other mediator between God and his people. But Jesus rules his people, his church, through human beings. We see this as he sends out the apostles with this commission: “Whoever receives you receives me” (Matt 10:40).  So when we read the words of Paul, Peter or the other apostles, we’re reading Christ’s commandments to his church.

As it happens, both Peter and Paul speak of offices, or roles of leadership in the church to which some Christians are called and some are not. Addressing the church at large, Peter refers (1 Peter 5:1) to “the elders among you,” and to himself as a member of that group: “I exhort [the elders] as a fellow elder”. Paul speaks (e.g. 1 Tim 3, Titus 1) of both elders and deacons, and he gives instructions for how to select them: they must meet certain qualifications, they must be “tested,” then they may serve.

We also know from Acts that Paul’s normal church-planting procedure was to “set apart elders in every church” (Acts 14:23) and when that was done, he considered his pioneering work complete (Rom 15:23). He found this process so important that he left Timothy and Titus in Ephesus and Crete, respectively, to shepherd the churches there in large part by identifying and training leaders (Titus 1:5). Paul spends a good chunk of the pastoral epistles telling Timothy and Titus how to select and evaluate officers. And if it’s the “ceremony” that bothers you, notice that Paul specifies that the laying on of hands is a key element of setting apart elders, referring to Timothy’s receiving a spiritual gift “when the council of elders laid their hands on you” (1 Tim 4:12) and warning him not to “be hasty in the laying on of hands” (1 Tim 5:22).

To say that some Christians are called to vocational ministry, and most are not, is not to set up a special class of extra-spiritual people. (I am a pastor with lots of pastor friends, and let me tell you, we ain’t extra-spiritual.) Elders and deacons don’t have a special hotline to God; he doesn’t love us more than he loves the teachers or the computer programmers or the stay-at-home moms among us. God calls all of us to serve him in different ways. One of the great rediscoveries of the Reformation was that we serve him just as nobly in a secular calling as in an explicitly Christian one.

So if that’s what my friend is getting at, then yes. It is bad to say that the only way to really serve Jesus is by becoming a pastor (/missionary/nun/church secretary). But to say that there are some who have a particular calling to teach, lead, and shepherd God’s people is simply to affirm what all of Scripture teaches. Discerning who these people are, acknowledging their calling, training them to serve, and installing them in their office is a very natural and biblical way to go about things.

In fact, the Bible doesn’t just permit this, it commands it.

Love and the Law

Jesus in the gospel of Matthew:

 “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.
(Matthew 22:36-40)

Paul in his letter to the Romans:

Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. For the commandments, “You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not steal, You shall not covet,” and any other commandment, are summed up in this word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.
(Romans 13:8-10)

I have occasionally heard Christians say something like “Keeping the Law doesn’t matter; what matters is loving people.” I don’t think that’s what Jesus and Paul mean here. If they did, it’s unlikely Jesus would say this earlier in Matthew’s gospel:

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
(Matthew 5:17-20)

Neither Jesus nor Paul thought the Law was overbearing or unnecessary. So when they say that loving God and neighbor is the fulfillment of the Law, I think they mean that “Love God and love your neighbor” is an accurate summary of the Law; it expresses the heart behind the Law.

Does this render the Old Testament law unnecessary? Not at all.

In a perfect world filled with perfect people, God could say “love me, and love one another,” and that would work. But we’re sinful people living in a broken world, so that isn’t enough. We need to know how to love God; we need to be told how to love one another. That’s what the Law does. It describes exactly what God expects from his people. And since his people are sinful, it graciously gives provisions for how we repent when we fail to keep his law.

Another dimension to the Law: One feature of our sinfulness is that we tend to think of ourselves more highly than we ought. So rather than leave it at “love God and love one another,” knowing that we might well respond like the rich young ruler and say “All these I have kept from my youth,” God shows us how high the bar is. You say you love me? Have you ever taken my name in vain? Have you kept a weekly Sabbath of rest and worship for your entire life? You say you love others? Have you ever told a lie about someone else? Have you ever been jealous of someone else’s property?  The Law shows that we can’t keep the Law. It makes us want to look for a Savior. That’s by design.

Far from relaxing the Law to a broad we could claim to have kept, Jesus and Paul are showing us what the Law is about. It’s about loving God and loving our neighbor. We can’t do either of those, which is why Jesus came. His life and death covers over our failures, and frees us to pursue obedience with a renewed mind and heart.

Sprints and marathons: an encouragement for parents in the trenches

A snapshot of Bible time at our house, when it happens.

Dad. Do you guys remember the name of the man we’ve been talking about? The one who built the boat?

Foard. Owen.

Sam. NO FOARD, it was NOAH.

Foard. Oh. Noah. HEY I KNOW NOAH! (He does.)

Dad. Sam, please use kind words with Foard. Yes, it was Noah.

Foard. Yeah. Noah. And if there were bears that came into our house, they would make a mess. And Daddy would say “Who made this mess?” (This was part of an illustration to the Noah story, weeks ago when we started it.)

Dad. Yes. Ok, so God told Noah to build a boat…

Sam. And Dad, did you know that Changer-Man can change into a boat? He can change into ANYTHING.

Dad. OK, but we’re not talking about superheroes right now, it’s Bible time and I want you guys to listen.

Foard. Yeah, and I’m SNEAKY-MAN. I’m Sneaky-Man, Sam is Changer-Man, Mommy is Power Girl, and Eliza is… what’s Eliza’s superhero name again?

<threat against more talking>

<cursory reading of brief Bible passage, skipping over non-central points>

<quick selection of 1 of the 3 application questions in the book>

Dad: Let’s pray.

And scene.

For my last two years in college, I was very consistent in spending the first 30-45 minutes of the day in the Bible and prayer. I don’t have an explanation for it (I see that hand. Yes, the Holy Spirit. Thank you.); I just locked into a routine: Wake up, make coffee, open Bible.

I don’t remember a single insight or “Aha!” moment I had during that time, though I’m sure there were some. I have the journals somewhere. I do remember that the last several months of school, I went through a serious spiritual desert– never felt anything, it was hard to pray, etc. But as I look back, those 2 years were probably one of the top three times of spiritual growth I’ve had in my life.

Similarly, I doubt that my kids will ever think “There was a Tuesday in September of 2012 when my dad told us how the Flood reminds us that God will rescue his people from his own wrath. Awesome insight.” But God willing, they’ll remember that a lot of the time, after dinner we’d sit and talk about the Bible. Because whether we’re talking about our own devotional time or our frantic attempts to teach our kids, it’s a marathon, not a sprint. And the results come in years, not days.

Hang in there, fellow trench warriors. We’re playing a long game.

Never, no never, no never.

All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out.
(John 6:37)

When Jesus says “I will never cast out”, he uses a double negative. If you want to be fancy (and why wouldn’t you?), it’s οὐ μή ἐκβάλω ἔξω: something like “Not not I will cast out.” In English this is bad grammar; in Greek it’s for emphasis. (Also in Czech, for what that’s worth.) In fact, it’s pretty much the strongest negation available in Greek.

The English phrasing I like the most for this idea is at the end of the hymn “How Firm A Foundation”:

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I will not desert to its foes!
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.

That’s what Jesus is saying here. He will never, no never, no never cast out the one who comes to him in faith. There is no circumstance under which he will reject those who trust in him. I’m not saved by how well I hold onto Jesus– not so well!– but by how well Jesus holds onto me. And he is, as my daughter’s name means, “God of the oath”– the One who always keeps his promises.

So when I’m at my worst, selfish and self-absorbed, seeking my own little kingdom at the expense of everyone else, there Jesus is: holding onto me. Not casting me out. That’s very good news.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 980 other followers