Sunday, March 27, 2011

the perfect evening

I return from work. The strong aroma of fried rice saturates the dining room. My wife has managed her fair share this week; between playing taxi for the boys and providing an open ear for the girl's drama, she is due for a break.

"Decided to hire some help tonight?"

Smiling, she fills my plate with sesame chicken. "If you'd like me to contribute, I could melt some queso for that broccoli."

She gives a slight brush of my shoulder as she walks by, fully aware of my aversion for liquid cheese. Her presence has nearly blocked my memory of the day's events -- the best sort of amnesia.

"Are you going to tell me what's on your mind?" She snaps me back to reality.

"More of the same. Two girls doing everything they can to keep from going home. I was thinking that I could quit my job, and then we could take them in for a while." Now I am teasing her.

She chides with a mock motherly tone, "I think five is quite enough for now. Besides, if we added one more girl to this family, you would never get any sleep!"

Of course, this is true. My lone daughter is the only person on the face of the earth that chastens my daring tendencies. Naturally, she is the one child most prone to follow in my footsteps, the one I would give my life to protect.

"Well then...maybe we could trade."

We finish eating and head into the living room. This is the no TV / no laptop zone. Not surprisingly, the kids typically leave it for the two of us.

Nestled in the corner of the couch, I just begin to recline when she invades my personal space. I pretend to be annoyed, but offer a quick peck to her forehead and rest upon her, no longer in need of the "security pillow" that I had clung to for the better part of thirty years.

I grab a nearby crossword puzzle to chill my mind, as she rests the back of her head against my stomach, looking upward at the novel in her own hands. Minutes pass, maybe hours; I am everywhere I ever wanted to be.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

self-actualization v. anointing (part 1)

self-actualization: fulfilling one’s individual potential.
Believers seek this elusive gem, as if each day short of being fulfilled is a blasphemy against our purpose. We delay activity and greater dreams because we have not yet actualized, anticipating the day when we will “fit” perfectly enough to make a difference in the world. But what if this is one major sham? What if all the waiting and exploring only neglects the bigger picture?

As a freshman at Bethel in the fall of ‘97, I participated in the annual orientation experience: a weekend of team building, card playing, people gazing, and spousal claiming. In other words, it was summer camp. Like every summer camp, they established a contemporary theme for the duration. I didn’t realize what I was swallowing at the time, but our theme was something to the effect of “Where the Pieces Fit.” -- may have been “When the Pieces Fit.“ Someone with an elephant’s memory will remember the exact phrase.

Each freshman was given a single-tone t-shirt with the theme and some interlocking puzzle pieces screened on the front. The back of the shirt made an allusion to the theme, along with its correlation to 1 Corinthians 12. From what I can gather, the message was this: church and community happens when the right pieces fit and work together.

I must admit, for the longest time, I taught spiritual gifts according to this vein. I even considered buying my youth group t-shirts for a conference, stating nothing more than diversified body parts: “ear,” “nose,” “foot,” and the like. I figured that if the kids began to own their branding, we might experience the Body of Christ in a more active way.

Like Bethel, I think my heart was in the right place. But I failed to recognize what many miss today: owning our individual piece brings us no closer to being a body. We do not seek gifts that benefit the body, so much as we desire to be affirmed in our current state of complacency. The cry of our heart to be “used” by God is often misguided by the worldly pursuit of actualization.

I sat praying with college students on the eve of my 30th birthday, excited to gather with the next generation of ministry leaders. I directed them to pray for the anointing that God had laid on their heart, and to explore how God would have them work together in these passions. The first part was easy -- each student knew exactly what “piece” they were, which passion they had been given. They expressed their deep longing to be “used” by God in this way. Some of them had already laid out a framework for their future ministry, which they would be leading.

A dead silence fell over the prayer chapel when I asked about working together. I couldn’t convince them to pray for one another, let alone be concerned with how they might minister with one another.

I don’t think that they were being selfish, and I don’t think that they were being prideful about their gifts. I believe that they had been asked to pursue their potential and passions for so many years, that it never occurred to them that God never did.

I returned to Missouri, and went back to the drawing board. I recalled something that a missionary once shared about the following passage:

Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all have gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret? But eagerly desire the greater gifts. And now I will show you the most excellent way. (1 Cor. 12:29-31)
I began to explore these questions:
1) What are the “greater” gifts?
2) Why would we need to desire any gifts, if our “piece” is self-evident?
3) Why do Bible publishers separate the two sentences in v. 31, such that the second half has been annexed by 1 Cor. 13? (Acknowledging that Paul didn‘t write this letter in chapters, but as a common rebuke addressing specific distortions.)
4) How is a body different than a puzzle?

I’ll address all of these questions in the coming days. I’d like you to stew for a moment. Feel free to respond if you have any thoughts.

Monday, March 14, 2011

observations in blogosphere

Yes, I'm one of those crazy kids that reads random people's blogs as much as I write. Some desperate attempt to be a part of a cool sub-culture? I'm not sure. People interest me. Back in college, I would drive to the mall on Black Friday to watch people. I didn't buy anything.

When I'm not around, I wouldn't be surprised if I am accused of having an opinion on everything. Truth is, I never considered them to be opinions, nor do I consider them to be fact. I primarily share observations. I love observation because it is not subject to debate. My perception can be as deceived or subjective as anyone else's, but my perception is based on an objective observation and not someone else's word. And I'm humbly open to the correction of a faulty perception.

I am thankful for how this process has sharpened my faith. If I had clung to my parent's faith, or held to the doctrine (more specifically, practice) of my childhood church, I would have nothing. Yes, I would vote Republican, worship every Sunday, and safely assume that some spiritual gifts lie dormant. I would also lack compassion for the broken, be bound to a law, and flippantly dismiss brothers and sisters that minister through gifts I was told were bad (according to someone else's jaded perception, and not scripture).

I have to own it for myself. The Law was given to the people of Israel because their hearts were evil. But if we are seeking the Lord in our observation, it shouldn't be hard for us to conclude the danger in sexual immorality, lying, gossip, disobeying our parents, and the like. This may sound blasphemous, but I didn't need Exodus 20 to know that I shouldn't commit adultery. I saw the effects of it. The Law isn't required for me to take forgiveness seriously. I have seen the sting of bitterness.

Scripture is a wonderfully absolute Word that cuts through the bias of our faulty perception, shaping all of our future observations, as we continue to view Him with more clarity. However, it is not a tool to be manipulated for the support of our bias. It has become almost comical to me: men and women, more intelligent than I, will staunchly oppose one another on an area of scripture, both speaking with an equal amount of authority within their own circle of bias. I stand aside and observe that which bears fruit and that which doesn't; it seems absurd to me that believers argue for or against that which we should clearly see with our own eyes!

How can a young person stay on the path of purity? By living according to your word. I seek you with all my heart; do not let me stray from your commands. I have hidden your word on my heart that I might not sin against you. (Psalm 119:9-11)

When he was alone, the Twelve and the others around him asked about the parables. He told them, "The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you. But to those on the outside everything is said in parables so that, 'they may be ever seeing but never perceiving, and ever hearing but never understanding; otherwise they might turn and be forgiven!'" (Mark 4:10-12)

When they saw the courage of Peter and John and realized that they were ordinary, unschooled men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus. But since they could see the man who had been healed standing before them, there was nothing they could say. (Acts 4:13-14)

And if those passages leave any doubt...

This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, explaining spiritual realities with Spirit-taught words. The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit. The person with the Spirit makes judgments about all things, but such a person is not subject to merely human judgments, for, "Who has known the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?" But we have the mind of Christ. (1 Corinthians 2:13-16, emphasis added)

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

defining salt

Once upon a time, I was sitting with a couple disciples, and they were discussing the difference between Christian Woman A and Christian Woman B. We couldn't easily identify the contrast. Both grew up in the church, attended the same Christian college, participated in the same extra-curriculars, and seemingly minister through similar gifts.

[Note to women: Spirit-filled guys have these conversations when you're not around.]

While we couldn't place a finger on "it," we knew there was an x-factor -- a variable in which their fruit was dependent. I sat quietly through the debate, until a lightbulb was seemingly tripped from the heavens...

"Christian Woman B has salt."

Say what?

Granted, my opinion wasn't fully unbiased. CWB (for short) had been a student in my youth ministry. But this is where the bias ends. CWB had been the black sheep in my youth group. When other girls went left, she went right. Her pursuit of holiness (and criticism of the status-quo) led to awkward and tense relationships. Her best friend began to cast her aside when she became increasingly off-beat. In fact, it wasn't long before CWB began looking for a new youth group. CWB was unanimously unappreciated.

I wish I could say that I wasn't to blame. In fact, six years ago, I probably did. But I was painfully agreeable in those days, and was more concerned with keeping the peace than supporting the boldest voice. I was agreeable enough to bore myself and others.

And that's the problem with salt. You can't cut its saltiness. There is no half-salt or less salty salt. There's salt and there's not salt.

Understand that to accept CWB's salt, my youth had to accept its implications. For a while, it was good for them to admire the salt for what it was -- to encourage its passion and smile at its delivery. But you can't place salt on your tongue for very long without tasting it. To most, the salt was more bitter than savory. Being confronted with their own impurity and pride was too much. CWB never set out to do this; it couldn't be helped.

Since the salt hasn't changed over the years, I have determined that our taste buds were distorted from the evil in our hearts, not that the salt was bad. It tasted exactly the way in which God intended.

Often, I wish I had CWBs determination. Being salt is tough. It probably wasn't as easy as her smile always indicated, but only in the last few years have I known what it means to be treated this way. The casual believer wants to accept the spice and deny its strength. We want to root for the mighty works that we fail to accomplish, but we don't want to get close enough for their conviction.

Sadly, we fail to recognize that the Spirit's inhabitance presses the issue. Whether we like the task, we are salt. We are the only ones that can choose to become less than salt. However, there are no degrees: if we decide to become something that is easier to swallow, we revoke the privilege to be something the world needs.

You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men. (Matthew 5:13)