51 More to Go

Today is the end of my first week of 2006. I finished reading my first book of 2006 as well. I've decided to try to write something about each of the books I read.

At the library one day, a friend recommended an online reading group. It is apparently a Christian-related group, so I decided to check out the book. It’s called Endless Chain by Emilie Richards. It’s not really the type of book I normally read, but sometimes I venture out.

The story focuses on the life of a minister in a small church in rural Virginia. If I stopped at the setting, I could probably get away with making positive comments. But since there is much more to any story than that, I’ll just say this is a book I wouldn’t recommend.

You may be wondering why I’m writing about it at all. I guess the point is to define what I think a “church” is, and to find out what some of you think that definition is as well.

Throughout this story, I read about the lives of people, some good, some not so good, who were in some way related to the country church or her minister. I think that’s an adequate description of who makes up any body of believers…some good, some not so good. But there the similarity ends. Or there ends the similarity to what I think a body of believers should look like. In the story there are social activists, there are people doing good deeds, there are people loving, there are people struggling. But there aren’t many people worshipping God. Or consulting God. Or honoring God. Or giving God the glory. Or even attempting to live God-centered lives. It seems like a fellowship of country club members or a civic organization.

Is that what the church is? I don’t think it’s what it should be. It’s the Bride of Christ. It is a holy institution unlike anything thought up by man. It is not a business or a club. It is what Christ died for.

This book seems to ignore the holiness of God. It seems to treat directives from God as possibly good ideas for some people. And it treats Scripture with something near contempt. At a Christmas service, after quoting Luke's account of the birth of Christ, this is the minister’s message:

“Of course, we don’t know if that really happened, do we? We’re relying on a man named Luke to tell us this story, and we know for a fact that he lived well after Jesus and got his information from other sources.”

“But it’s a good story nonetheless, isn’t it? Even if it never happened quite this way. The Bible is filled with wonderful stories.”

A few paragraphs down he continues with this thought:

“Luke wanted us to believe in a world filled with spirit, a world where the good we do is as important as the good we believe in.”

It saddens me that an author writes a story where the minister doesn’t believe in the truth of Scripture. I know there are people out there who don’t, people who claim to be Christians who don’t. Even ministers who don’t. But I would rather they be the exception and be perceived as such.

And how can the good we do be as important as the good we believe in? I think as Christians, God is certainly equipping us for good works, and expects us to use our talents to that end. But if the good that I believe in is God Himself, my works will never measure up to that. Nor be as important as Him.

(For the record, I don’t think Luke lived “well after Jesus,” as our author claims. He was a co-worker of Paul’s and present with him through some of his journeys. Paul was pretty much a contemporary of Jesus. Luke may have been younger than Paul, but he certainly didn't live well after him.)

So why even admit this is the first book I read for 2006? Because this book represents something sad to me (other than the hours put into reading it). It is a view of God and Christianity that I’m afraid is more prevalent than I would like for it to be.

When someone reads this book, or one like it, and then looks at my life….am I like one of the characters? Does my faith appear as nothing more than noble hobby? Do they say to themselves, "That's fine for her, but I've got scrapbooking to fill my time."

One of my deepest desires is for Christ to be evident in me. I want others to see a transformed life.

Epiphany

“The Adoration of the Magi.” That is an important tradition in many places in the world. More importantly, it is called Epiphany, which is today January 6th. Here in Bavaria, it is a state holiday. If you go out to dinner, often times small groups of kids will come in dressed as Magi and sing for you. Then they take donations, usually for some charitable contribution.

But the word really means “The Manifestation of God.” It is the 12th day of Christmas. Actually, the Eastern Orthodox Church celebrates Christmas on this day.

Epiphany principally commemorates the revelation to the Gentiles of Jesus Christ as the Savior, as portrayed by the coming of the Wise Men.

It’s been part of church history for a long time, with a passing remark by Clement of Alexandria, who was born around the middle of the second century.

Whether you celebrate the day or not, the Manifestation of God, especially to the Gentiles (because it includes me!), fills my heart with wonder.

Jesus at My House

Leo Tolstoy, one of my favorite Russian authors, wrote a delightful short story entitled, “Where Love is, God Is.” It’s about a cobbler (a shoe repairer, not the dessert!) who has a dream. In the dream, the Savior tells the cobbler that He will visit him the next day. Upon awakening, he prepares for his important visitor. As he goes about his day, he extends hospitality and God’s word to several people in need, extinguishing the provisions that he had intended to share with Christ. As evening approaches, he has yet to receive the One he's waiting for. But as he’s cleaning up, he hears a voice, “Martin, Martin don’t you know me?”

Martin utters, “Who is it?”

“It is I,” is the reply. Not once, but three times, in three different voices, the voices of the needy who had stopped by his shop that day.

As he looks in his Bible at the place where it has fallen open, he reads, “I was hungry and ye gave me meat, I was thirsty and ye gave me drink, I was a stranger, and ye took me in. Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me.”

He then realizes the Savior had indeed been to his house that day.

Jesus came to my house last night.

I had invited two young people over dinner. One was Anne, a dear sweet friend of ours that Ron and I had met on a trip to Venice. She has become a member of our household, and we all love her dearly. The other was a young man who I only met recently.

My boys loved him. Even Chad. Those of you who know Chad (my autistic child), know how huge this is. He didn’t stay in the living room for the entire night, but he stayed much longer than he normally does with unfamiliar guests. He answered questions, smiled, maintained eye contact.

This morning as I was starting my Bible reading, I reflected on our dinner. I thought that our guest and now new friend seemed kind of like Jesus (the hair, the manner, the lifestyle, the kindness in his eyes). At first, I had a momentary twinge of, “Ooh, isn't that a little sacrilegious?” But then I realized that ultimately, this is our goal. If we are being changed into the “likeness of the Son,” shouldn’t people look at us and think, “Hey, isn’t that person kind of Jesus-like?”

Do people who meet me, notice a resemblance?

This morning, Derek, my 15 year old, asked me how I knew this young man was a Christian (before I invited him). I told him that I didn’t. There was just something about him that made me want to ask him over.

Like-Mindedness

Remember what is was like to be young? You went to Sunday School, and they explained things to you, and you said to yourself, "Oh so that's what those verses mean."

But a day came when you grew up a bit. Someone challenged your thinking. Someone interpreted a verse a little bit differently than you always had.

Many of us may have gone back to look more closely at our time honored perspectives, to see if maybe they were only honored by time, and not necessarily by God. Others of us, just took the party line: "Well, if he doesn't think like me, he's certainly going straight to hell."

You know, as I aged, I thought it was only my particular religious background that had those staunch supporters who claimed we were the only Christians. I've found out since then, however, that many of my friends had similar dogmatic leaders, only with different signs above their church doors.

Now as I read various authors and theologians and listen to a variety of speakers, I see there are so many different voices out there. But how can we have such diversity of thought about the same 66 books that make up our Bible? Does this demonstrate an evolving or maturity of belief in the Christian world? Or, when Christ prayed for unity, is this what He was guarding against?

Diversity in itself is not a bad thing. In so many ways it can be healthy. It challenges us to define our opinions and ideas more solidly; it gives us insight into the minds of others. It can build understanding. But it also has the potential to separate and divide, to hurt and ridicule. It can compromise truth.

I think division is one of Satan's greatest tools. If he can keep us nitpicking each other's doctrinal beliefs, he keeps us from being effective witnesses to a hurting and lost world. That same lost world would rather deal with its own pain than trust us to show them the way.

God have mercy on us.

What's the answer? How do we walk a line that honors God in faithfulness, but gives room for grace? I think the answer is back in a conversation Christ had with His disciples before His crucifixion (recorded in John 13). After giving them an example of servitude by washing the dusty feet of 12 undeserving men, He said to them,

"A new command I give you: love one another."

But He didn't stop there. He made another point. There is one way to discern if someone belongs to Christ. Jesus continued,

"By this all men will know that you are my disciples. If you love one another."

Does the world know that I'm His disciple? For that matter, can my fellow Christians tell that I'm His disciple? Or do I walk around with blinders on, refusing to see Christ in my neighbor because of my love affair with my own opinions?

I think one day when Christ calls us all home, some of us may be surprised to see who all we bump into. Until then, I'm reminded of Bambi, and what he says to his mother as they traipse through the woods:

"We're not the only deer in the forest, you know."

Approaching God

“If we have never had the experience of taking our casual, religious shoes off our casual, religious feet— getting rid of all the excessive informality with which we approach God— it is questionable whether we have ever stood in His presence. The people who are flippant and disrespectful in their approach to God are those who have never been introduced to Jesus Christ. Only after the amazing delight and liberty of realizing what Jesus Christ does, comes the impenetrable "darkness" of realizing who He is.” (Oswald Chambers, 1874-1917)

Those of you who read the devotional book, “My Utmost for His Highest,” will recognize this as part of the reading for today. The holiness of God is something that earlier generations of Christians understood more clearly, I think.

How we approach God depends on this understanding of His holiness. What we expect from Him mirrors this as well. How often do we pray as a means of “hedging our bets?” Do we really believe that He hears us, or are we diligent “just in case?” How many times have we offered up something to God, only to continue to worry about it after our final amen?

Beth Moore, in her study of the apostle John (“Beloved Disciple”), quotes John 11:41-42 to demonstrate Christ’s confidence in His praying:

“Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. I knew that You always hear Me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that You sent Me.”

She then encourages her readers to approach God with the same confidence. She asks, “How differently would we pray if Christ appeared bodily and sat in a chair across from each of us, leaning forward to concentrate on what we’re saying?”

But therein lies one of the paradoxes of the Christian faith. How does one have that type of intimate relationship with a Being that is too marvelous, too powerful, too unfathomable for our simple minds to grasp? Why would the Lord of All That I Know and See and Hear and Feel and Much Much More, possibly care about my day to day struggles?

This is what I conclude. It is only such a One who would.

When I realize that He is the only One who can do all things, and will act according to His purpose always, but nevertheless, delights in me (of all people), I need to remember, as I approach Him, to remove not only my sandals, but my irreverence and flippancy. Without a doubt, this is holy ground.

How Have Your Adverbs Been Lately?

I'm reading Philip Yancey's book, "Rumors of Another World." One of the chapters deals with our attitude. He says that God isn't necessarily as concerned with what we do, as how we do it. He credits the Puritans with the following phrase, "God Loveth Adverbs." Isn't that the coolest?

joyfully lovingly humbly efficiently willingly sincerely compassionately peaceably patiently kindly faithfully gently

(Wait a minute...a lot of those look suspiciously like the fruit of the Spirit!)

The 17th century monk, Brother Lawrence, in his work "The Practice of the Presence of God," said something very similar:

"We ought not to be weary of doing little things for the love of God, who regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed. "

My friends, hold me accountable with my adverbs!

New Beginnings

In the beginning….

I love new beginnings. They’re like freshly fallen snow, before it’s been marred by footprints or snowplows. As I watch the flakes fall by my window, hiding the majestic Zugspitz mountain from my view in the snow-globe world in which I’m living, I rejoice in this new year.

I love making resolutions. It’s my chance to make a better year, to be a better me. So, here’s my list for this year (but not in order of priority).

1. To spend more time in the kitchen.

I told some of my friends this one last night. Their response was, “Why???” But with Ron gone for a while again (thanks to the US Army), and Chad, being the autistically picky eater that he is, often there’s only 3 of us eating (Derek, Sean and me). If I have someone coming over for dinner, I cook. Otherwise, I’ve been very sporadic. I realized recently that my kids need something more from me.

And then there’s the creative side of me. I really do enjoy cooking…when it comes out well. So, I’m setting that as one of my goals. Now, if only someone in my household would come up with a resolution to do clean-up, I’d be set.


2. To read a book a week.

I read recently about a guy who made this his goal last year, and succeeded. I thought, “Hey, I can do this.” I love to read, I just don’t usually keep track of all I’ve read. Let’s see if I can get through 52 books this year. Hmm, finishing The Brothers Karamazov might have to wait until next year. That one would really slow me down!

3. To be faithful with my daily Bible/Devotional/study reading.

This one is easy. I do it every year, and it seems like cheating to put it on my list. (I love reading....did I mention that already??... particularly anything Scripture related.) But it’s one of the priorities in my life, so it should be on my list.

People sometimes ask me what method I use for daily Bible reading. So I’ll share that here. First of all, I have “The Daily Bible : In Chronological Order 365 Daily Readings (With Devotional Insights to Guide You Through God’s Word),” with commentary supplied by F. LaGard Smith. Actually this is one of my favorite Christmas presents to give. You start at the beginning on January 1st, and read it like any other book. Being in chronological order helps the reader to keep everything in context, from the psalms to prophecies, to the time frames for the epistles. You finish Revelation 22 on Dec. 31st.

The other part of my morning consists of devotional readings….taken from “My Utmost for His Highest” and “Our Daily Bread” (both of which are linked here on my blog page).

The next thing I do is read Psalms and Proverbs. Daily. (I have several friends who do this as well...we got it from a Bill Gothard seminar.) We all ask for wisdom from God. He’s given us a book of wisdom. How can we ask, and then not read what He hands us? And Psalms….I have learned so much about praise from these writings. Anyway, on the 1st of each month I read Proverbs 1, and Psalms 1, 31, 61, 91, 121. There are 31 proverbs, so I read each one according to the day of the month. There are 150 psalms, which break down nicely into 5 psalms a day, leaving the 31st of the month as a lighter day. Whatever the day is (say the 16th), I read the16th Psalm, and then the 46th, the 76th, the 106th, and the 136th. Increments of 30. You get the picture.

Then the final thing I do....work on whatever Bible study I'm participating in at the time. I'm fortunate in that I have several opportunities to meet with other Christians and study together. And on the rare occasions that there's none going on, I do a study by myself. Some of my favorites... anything by Beth Moore or Cassandra Martin. We recently as a group finished Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby. I'd done it on my own before; it was good to get to do it with a group too. I also like the studies by Jerry Bridges.

4. To give my utmost for His highest.

That is my true goal for this year. I want every aspect of my life to be God-driven. I want to walk out my faith in a way that brings glory and honor to the One Who Loves Me.