Today BBC reported on a large group of Orthodox Jews protesting outside the Intel plant in Jerusalem. Their complaint is that Intel, the giant American tech company, is not honoring the Sabbath by working on Saturday (the Jewish Sabbath). Intel's response is revealing of a work philosophy that has completely lost touch with the purpose of Sabbath:
"We have always worked according to the company's needs. If the needs call for it, we work on the Sabbath as well."
Does anyone else find this troubling? There isn't even an attempt here to accomodate the Sabbath. There's no indication that "we'll try to work around it." It is complete and utter enslavement to the ambiguous "company's needs."
The Sabbath is not about whether or not we can squeeze it into our schedule. It is a priority. If anything is going to be squeezed, we should concern ourselves with squeezing our schedule around the Sabbath. It is a priority.
Intel's statement is disheartening. It appeals to the god of profit rather than the God of the universe. We can't live our lives saying, "I know what the Bible directs us to do, but economic success is more important."
Is this all we're living for? A larger growth in numbers for the quarterly reports? Is such a thing worth sacrificing our faithfulness to God?
Taking the Sabbath seriously is one of the most freeing things our overworked society can do. It's not just about stopping work. If it were, the Sabbath really would produce anxiety. But we fill in the vacancy with trust in God. It is the day where we trust more than any other that God is big enough to carry us and our businesses through. In one sense, we stop so that God can start.
I don't want to live with a ceaseless work ethic. It makes me tired just thinking about it. There's no freedom there. I want to live in the freedom that God can take my efforts from the week and prosper me during my time of obediently refraining from work. Who doesn't want freedom?
Finally, isn't it ironic that a tech company, who offers the promise of faster and more efficient work, can't find time to rest? I think there's a lesson there....
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
alabaster jar life
I have begun to try to articulate my own philosophy of ministry. What areas are most important to me? What sort of charge do I want to communicate to people? How do I want to live my life so that I can suggest it to others without hypocrisy?
One of the most central developments in my own Christian thought is what I call 'alabaster jar theology.' It's based on the woman who pours out perfume on the feet of Jesus, told variously in the gospels (John 12, Matt 26, Mark 14, Lk 7). The woman buys about a coke can's worth of perfume, which cost her a year's wages, and dumps it on the feet of Jesus. The others around Jesus were distraught at this waste, seeing three months wages disappear down the cracks between the floorboards.
The reason I love this story is because the woman's sacrifice is gratuitous. Yes, the money could have been used to feed the poor for months. But Jesus is not disappointed. It is not a waste to Jesus. In fact, he sees it as his preparation for burial, a service to the Almighty God.
How does this become ministry, or life? I don' think this means we dump all the resources that we've gathered onto the first need that arises. I think it deals with the way we invest our lives. For example, is it beneficial for us to spend time with the left-outs, the ostracized, the awkward? Wouldn't our lives be better served by courting the favor of the rich and the powerful? Certainly networking has its place, but God has a heart for the lost, the broken, and the needy, and sometimes our relationships need to exhibit such a 'wastefulness' by caring for and paying attention to the leftout.
This idea is also played out through the Sabbath. Unfortunately the Sabbath has been largely hollowed out and understood only as the first day of the week. But from what I see in the Scripture, Sabbath is not about a day, but a mindset. It means that we are able to rest from our tireless labors, to trust that we are not so important that life will not move along without our efforts. Sabbath removes us from the incessant virtues of production and efficiency. It calls us to practice "holy inefficiency" as one author put it. Here we get to cease striving, to be at peace with the work that we've done, and to trust that it is enough. But, we might ask, what if we really haven't done enough? I can think of two responses: first, how would we know when we've done enough?, and two, if we have not actually done enough by any standard, then we suffer the consequences. What we do not do is continue working and further disobey the command of God. Of course, Jesus healed on the Sabbath, and his disciples opened grains for themselves on the Sabbath. There are extenuating circumstances. The Sabbath is not a static idea which requires us not to lift a finger, but a call to live with the faith that God is good enough to rule the world without our help.
This relates to the alabaster jar because it carries with it that same sense of inefficiency and apparently misdirected resources. It is not productive to pour perfume on someone's feet, nor is it productive to put your feet up on the Sabbath. It is not efficient to save your housework for another day.
Finally, the alabaster jar plays out in our lives through our profound love for others. I can either pass the blame for a mistake at work onto a coworker, or I can put myself out there and take it on myself. One is safe and protected, the other is risky. But which is more redemptive for my coworker? Which one says 'every man for himself,' and which one says 'myself for every man'?
It is hard to 'waste' love when we have little to gain by it. This woman watched her fortune seep into the floor. But did she regret it?
I don't know that people would recognize this lifestyle in me. But it's what I want. I can think of no greater evangelism than loving someone in a way that can't be accounted for. Here's to living a 'wasteful' life!
One of the most central developments in my own Christian thought is what I call 'alabaster jar theology.' It's based on the woman who pours out perfume on the feet of Jesus, told variously in the gospels (John 12, Matt 26, Mark 14, Lk 7). The woman buys about a coke can's worth of perfume, which cost her a year's wages, and dumps it on the feet of Jesus. The others around Jesus were distraught at this waste, seeing three months wages disappear down the cracks between the floorboards.
The reason I love this story is because the woman's sacrifice is gratuitous. Yes, the money could have been used to feed the poor for months. But Jesus is not disappointed. It is not a waste to Jesus. In fact, he sees it as his preparation for burial, a service to the Almighty God.
How does this become ministry, or life? I don' think this means we dump all the resources that we've gathered onto the first need that arises. I think it deals with the way we invest our lives. For example, is it beneficial for us to spend time with the left-outs, the ostracized, the awkward? Wouldn't our lives be better served by courting the favor of the rich and the powerful? Certainly networking has its place, but God has a heart for the lost, the broken, and the needy, and sometimes our relationships need to exhibit such a 'wastefulness' by caring for and paying attention to the leftout.
This idea is also played out through the Sabbath. Unfortunately the Sabbath has been largely hollowed out and understood only as the first day of the week. But from what I see in the Scripture, Sabbath is not about a day, but a mindset. It means that we are able to rest from our tireless labors, to trust that we are not so important that life will not move along without our efforts. Sabbath removes us from the incessant virtues of production and efficiency. It calls us to practice "holy inefficiency" as one author put it. Here we get to cease striving, to be at peace with the work that we've done, and to trust that it is enough. But, we might ask, what if we really haven't done enough? I can think of two responses: first, how would we know when we've done enough?, and two, if we have not actually done enough by any standard, then we suffer the consequences. What we do not do is continue working and further disobey the command of God. Of course, Jesus healed on the Sabbath, and his disciples opened grains for themselves on the Sabbath. There are extenuating circumstances. The Sabbath is not a static idea which requires us not to lift a finger, but a call to live with the faith that God is good enough to rule the world without our help.
This relates to the alabaster jar because it carries with it that same sense of inefficiency and apparently misdirected resources. It is not productive to pour perfume on someone's feet, nor is it productive to put your feet up on the Sabbath. It is not efficient to save your housework for another day.
Finally, the alabaster jar plays out in our lives through our profound love for others. I can either pass the blame for a mistake at work onto a coworker, or I can put myself out there and take it on myself. One is safe and protected, the other is risky. But which is more redemptive for my coworker? Which one says 'every man for himself,' and which one says 'myself for every man'?
It is hard to 'waste' love when we have little to gain by it. This woman watched her fortune seep into the floor. But did she regret it?
I don't know that people would recognize this lifestyle in me. But it's what I want. I can think of no greater evangelism than loving someone in a way that can't be accounted for. Here's to living a 'wasteful' life!
Friday, August 14, 2009
a great book
I am often frustrated at the stylish Christian book-of-the-moment. These books are often life-encompassing spin-offs of a single conclusion. They are not bad books per se, but they are narrow, impossibly prescriptive, and leave little to mystery and thoughtful Christian living. Which is why I am so very struck by a book I'm reading now, The Holy Longing by Ronald Rolhesier. The more I read of it, the higher it climbs on my favorite book list.
This book, dedicated to Henri Nouwen (and written in the same spirit), attempts to make concrete the nebulous idea of Christian spirituality. The writing is excellent, the conclusions are robust, but what I like most about this book is that it is concrete without being prescriptive. Rolheiser can hypothesize an idea, illustrate it with excellent stories, and then follow it through to a grounded affirmation, all without the compulsion to conclude each chapter by saying, "Now go and practice this in the following way:...."
While this is an accessible book, it is not really a bathroom read. If you are looking for an excellent Christian book that will provoke your thinking, give you a better handle on the daily grind of Christianity, and even provide some satisfying conclusions on human sexuality(!), read this book. And if you do, write me and tell me about it.
This book, dedicated to Henri Nouwen (and written in the same spirit), attempts to make concrete the nebulous idea of Christian spirituality. The writing is excellent, the conclusions are robust, but what I like most about this book is that it is concrete without being prescriptive. Rolheiser can hypothesize an idea, illustrate it with excellent stories, and then follow it through to a grounded affirmation, all without the compulsion to conclude each chapter by saying, "Now go and practice this in the following way:...."
While this is an accessible book, it is not really a bathroom read. If you are looking for an excellent Christian book that will provoke your thinking, give you a better handle on the daily grind of Christianity, and even provide some satisfying conclusions on human sexuality(!), read this book. And if you do, write me and tell me about it.
Monday, August 10, 2009
desires i do not have
Over the past couple years I have become fascinated by the subject of truth. I know this sounds uber-dull, but I love it. For me, to grasp the truth is to penetrate to the core of a particular situation, so that we can respond accurately. I liken it to various scholars' descriptions of the purpose of the book of Proverbs, which is "the art of skillful living" or simply "living well." Accurate living -- living according to what is true -- is something I strive for. And therein lies the problem. I often lack the desire to do what is true.
Truth, however compelling, does not compel. I may be able to parse a particular problem or situation down to its core accuracies or inaccuracies. From there, I might recommend to myself a prescription for living differently, and more in line with what is true. But for all that thinking, one issue remains: desire. There are some things that I am convinced are correct, truthful, and accurate, but I simply do not want to do them (or not do them, as the case may be). Truth is not enough. I cannot "truth" my way into desire.
A rather abstract concept has begun to pull into clearer focus for me recently. It is the fact that truth is not just 'what Christ is' but, strangely, 'who Christ is.' Truth is not a 'what' but a 'who'. I cannot just define the truth of Christ in the same way that I might define an apple or an idea. I have to know Christ in the same way that I know my closest friend.
What this means is that, in my desire to respond to what is true, I am not responding to an idea but to a person. There isn't some neutral, floating idea out there that I somehow feel compelled to respond to. It is Christ in the flesh, knocking on my stubborn heart, reminding me that it is his voice that warrants my response. I didn't spot truth on the horizon and decide to implement an action plan to orient my life around it. I was called. Jesus, as the person who is Truth, has beckoned me to come to him. My knowing what is true is not a conclusion I discover by deduction, but an invitation to which I am asked to respond. I have not found truth. Truth has found me.
So how do I drum up desires to respond to this truth? I think I start by recognizing that just as I did not arrive at the truth on my own, neither can I arrive at the desires on my own. It is all gift. My responsibility is to say it out loud, that I don't have it in me, that my desires, like my mind, are woefully inadequate. Just as Christ is the truth, so also is he the way and the life. He is the source of my desires to do good. I think this is what Paul means when he says, "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." My response, in the absence of desire to act on truth, is to admit my fledgling faith to the Father, and ask that He endow me with what I lack.
Truth, however compelling, does not compel. I may be able to parse a particular problem or situation down to its core accuracies or inaccuracies. From there, I might recommend to myself a prescription for living differently, and more in line with what is true. But for all that thinking, one issue remains: desire. There are some things that I am convinced are correct, truthful, and accurate, but I simply do not want to do them (or not do them, as the case may be). Truth is not enough. I cannot "truth" my way into desire.
A rather abstract concept has begun to pull into clearer focus for me recently. It is the fact that truth is not just 'what Christ is' but, strangely, 'who Christ is.' Truth is not a 'what' but a 'who'. I cannot just define the truth of Christ in the same way that I might define an apple or an idea. I have to know Christ in the same way that I know my closest friend.
What this means is that, in my desire to respond to what is true, I am not responding to an idea but to a person. There isn't some neutral, floating idea out there that I somehow feel compelled to respond to. It is Christ in the flesh, knocking on my stubborn heart, reminding me that it is his voice that warrants my response. I didn't spot truth on the horizon and decide to implement an action plan to orient my life around it. I was called. Jesus, as the person who is Truth, has beckoned me to come to him. My knowing what is true is not a conclusion I discover by deduction, but an invitation to which I am asked to respond. I have not found truth. Truth has found me.
So how do I drum up desires to respond to this truth? I think I start by recognizing that just as I did not arrive at the truth on my own, neither can I arrive at the desires on my own. It is all gift. My responsibility is to say it out loud, that I don't have it in me, that my desires, like my mind, are woefully inadequate. Just as Christ is the truth, so also is he the way and the life. He is the source of my desires to do good. I think this is what Paul means when he says, "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." My response, in the absence of desire to act on truth, is to admit my fledgling faith to the Father, and ask that He endow me with what I lack.
Monday, August 3, 2009
full pockets, empty hands
After considering a withdrawal from the blog universe, I've decided to keep on keepin-on. There is a real element here of self-importance, of believing that people are interested in what I have to say. But I think my writings have turned theological enough and occassional enough that I may have lost the little following I had, which helps me turn a corner and write for a different reason: because I love to write.
I'm also entering into the essay-writing period of my classes, which means I need a happy avenue of procrastination. Mwaha.
In terms of actual content on this post, all I want to say is that all the Bible knowledge and reading of theology in the world doesn't amount to a hill of beans if your heart is dull. This is no new lesson for anyone. I drive in my car so much every single day that I saturate my mind with sermons and lectures and audiobooks. I'm starting to come to a place where I can articulate not only what I believe about particulars of the Christian faith, but why I believe it. That's great, and I really believe in the fact that we are called to the love the Lord our God with our mind. But the rest of life can very easily remain adrift. In my case, I feel like I've filled my pockets with knowledge about God, but rarely do I reach into these pockets and produce the contents of them in my hands. What good are pockets if we never use them?
I'm also entering into the essay-writing period of my classes, which means I need a happy avenue of procrastination. Mwaha.
In terms of actual content on this post, all I want to say is that all the Bible knowledge and reading of theology in the world doesn't amount to a hill of beans if your heart is dull. This is no new lesson for anyone. I drive in my car so much every single day that I saturate my mind with sermons and lectures and audiobooks. I'm starting to come to a place where I can articulate not only what I believe about particulars of the Christian faith, but why I believe it. That's great, and I really believe in the fact that we are called to the love the Lord our God with our mind. But the rest of life can very easily remain adrift. In my case, I feel like I've filled my pockets with knowledge about God, but rarely do I reach into these pockets and produce the contents of them in my hands. What good are pockets if we never use them?
Friday, June 19, 2009
kill the sheep
Just read a very intriguing passage in 1 Samuel (15:1-16). King Saul is ordered by God to completely destroy the Amalekites, including women, children, oxen, and sheep. Total destruction. They follow through, but the people spare the best of the sheep and oxen. When the prophet Samuel comes to speak to Saul about his victory over the Amalekites, he asks knowingly, "What then is this bleating of the sheep in my ears?"
Saul's answer is telling. "They have brought [the sheep] from the Amalekites, for the people spared the best of the sheep and oxen, to sacrifice to the Lord your God; but the rest we have utterly destroyed."
Two things to note about Saul's answer to Samuel. First, the pronouns rotate from "they" when he is speaking of disobedience, to "we" when he's speaking of obedience. Saul, the king, only takes responsibility for the victory, and doesn't own up to his failure. Lame move #1. Godly leadership never makes another person take the fall, never throws another person under the bus. More and more, I am understanding Godly living as self-giving in all things, willing to bear the burden even when it might not be our burden to bear (although in this case, it was Saul's burden).
Lame move #2 is what I italicized in the passage. The Israelites are presuming to sacrifice to God the very material of their disobedience -- the sheep they failed to destroy. That's like stealing money, then proudly putting it in the offering plate. Is God a fool? There is no cover for disobedience. We can't use smoke and mirrors to make God believe we are somehow being obedient. Our acts of worship mean nothing if they are rooted in dishonesty. That's why Jesus instructs us to leave our sacrifices next to the altar and, before before offering them up to God, first going and reconciling our relationship with our brother or sister (Mt 5:23-26). Sacrifice/worship is the outward expression of an internal truth: that we are a people of repentance. There is no true worship without a repentant heart. Sacrificing sheep to God, no matter how pure they are, is an empty practice if they are procured through disobedience. Remember the words of King David, "For you do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it; you are not pleased with burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken and contrite heart" (Ps 51:17-18).
Isn't it refreshing to realize that God would rather have our blackened hearts then our white-as-snow sacrifices? We don't need to do a song and dance for the living God. We just have to come as we are: broken, disobedient, and: redeemed.
Saul's answer is telling. "They have brought [the sheep] from the Amalekites, for the people spared the best of the sheep and oxen, to sacrifice to the Lord your God; but the rest we have utterly destroyed."
Two things to note about Saul's answer to Samuel. First, the pronouns rotate from "they" when he is speaking of disobedience, to "we" when he's speaking of obedience. Saul, the king, only takes responsibility for the victory, and doesn't own up to his failure. Lame move #1. Godly leadership never makes another person take the fall, never throws another person under the bus. More and more, I am understanding Godly living as self-giving in all things, willing to bear the burden even when it might not be our burden to bear (although in this case, it was Saul's burden).
Lame move #2 is what I italicized in the passage. The Israelites are presuming to sacrifice to God the very material of their disobedience -- the sheep they failed to destroy. That's like stealing money, then proudly putting it in the offering plate. Is God a fool? There is no cover for disobedience. We can't use smoke and mirrors to make God believe we are somehow being obedient. Our acts of worship mean nothing if they are rooted in dishonesty. That's why Jesus instructs us to leave our sacrifices next to the altar and, before before offering them up to God, first going and reconciling our relationship with our brother or sister (Mt 5:23-26). Sacrifice/worship is the outward expression of an internal truth: that we are a people of repentance. There is no true worship without a repentant heart. Sacrificing sheep to God, no matter how pure they are, is an empty practice if they are procured through disobedience. Remember the words of King David, "For you do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it; you are not pleased with burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken and contrite heart" (Ps 51:17-18).
Isn't it refreshing to realize that God would rather have our blackened hearts then our white-as-snow sacrifices? We don't need to do a song and dance for the living God. We just have to come as we are: broken, disobedient, and: redeemed.
Friday, June 5, 2009
work hard
Just came across an excellent little soundbite, the kind that is small in size, but opens up a world of thought behind it:
"Somewhere along the line a strange idea has developed that in order to be humble we also have to be mediocre." - Ted Engstrom
This comes from an essay on the need for Christians to pursue excellence. And I think he's spot on with this thought. Christians can have the tendency to reel back when they encounter someone who works very hard. We tend to think that people are working so hard because they don't trust, being afraid to undergird their work with prayerful dependence. And this is a very real possibility, but the alternative -- mediocrity -- is no more flattering to our God. Either pole falls short of what God has asked of us. And like this author says, I think we would prefer to major on mediocrity than on hard work, because hard work smacks of a works-based mindset, while mediocrity is associated with youth and looseness.
The middle ground between these two poles is, in my opinion, not very well-traveled. It holds both in balance: the first, hard work, "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might" (Eccl 9:10); the second, prayerful acknowledgment of Who is in control, "A man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps" (Prov 16:9).
The temptation for hard workers is the desire to be noticed for their hard work, which is to draw the glory of the work away from God. The temptation for mediocre workers is to place unjustified demands on God, failing to acknowledge that God invites us to participate with Him instead of just handing us the reward.
How great would it be if Christians were known for their excellence? This doesn't mean we work tirelessly, but that we work with integrity and fervor, and with a prayerful mind that God would bless our labor. We should probably start with Christian music....
"Somewhere along the line a strange idea has developed that in order to be humble we also have to be mediocre." - Ted Engstrom
This comes from an essay on the need for Christians to pursue excellence. And I think he's spot on with this thought. Christians can have the tendency to reel back when they encounter someone who works very hard. We tend to think that people are working so hard because they don't trust, being afraid to undergird their work with prayerful dependence. And this is a very real possibility, but the alternative -- mediocrity -- is no more flattering to our God. Either pole falls short of what God has asked of us. And like this author says, I think we would prefer to major on mediocrity than on hard work, because hard work smacks of a works-based mindset, while mediocrity is associated with youth and looseness.
The middle ground between these two poles is, in my opinion, not very well-traveled. It holds both in balance: the first, hard work, "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might" (Eccl 9:10); the second, prayerful acknowledgment of Who is in control, "A man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps" (Prov 16:9).
The temptation for hard workers is the desire to be noticed for their hard work, which is to draw the glory of the work away from God. The temptation for mediocre workers is to place unjustified demands on God, failing to acknowledge that God invites us to participate with Him instead of just handing us the reward.
How great would it be if Christians were known for their excellence? This doesn't mean we work tirelessly, but that we work with integrity and fervor, and with a prayerful mind that God would bless our labor. We should probably start with Christian music....
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
suggestion
Do yourself a favor....meet my fiance. She's buckets of fun, is downright gorgeous, and, if you hang around with her long enough, she'll change your life. I love her.
Friday, May 22, 2009
yesterday, today, forever
I'm sitting at Peet's Coffee drinking the bevy of the gods. I'm currently reading several books on eschatology, which is the study of all-things-future from the point of view of the Bible.
I was just struck by how all-encompassing the work of God is in our life. Studying eschatology reminds me of the hope and redemption that is forthcoming, both in our own lifetimes and in the life to come. So God takes care of our future. But forgiveness is also a reality, meaning that our past is no longer counted against us. Our past does not hinder us. And in the present, though the present is no more than the future becoming the past, is lived out under the watchful guidance and power of the Spirit.
Past, present, and future. We are enveloped in God's care.
I was just struck by how all-encompassing the work of God is in our life. Studying eschatology reminds me of the hope and redemption that is forthcoming, both in our own lifetimes and in the life to come. So God takes care of our future. But forgiveness is also a reality, meaning that our past is no longer counted against us. Our past does not hinder us. And in the present, though the present is no more than the future becoming the past, is lived out under the watchful guidance and power of the Spirit.
Past, present, and future. We are enveloped in God's care.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
