Thursday, June 23, 2005
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Father's Day Sermon - Part 2: The Point
I love this story because it is more than just a good story. This story is the story of the Bible. It is the story of our heavenly father and His relationship with His children. It is an example of how earthly fathers should deal with their own children. It is not just a nice story. It is our story.
And I think we can learn 2 important things about ourselves and about our heavenly Father through this story whose themes pervade the Bible. First, it is the story of God seeking to redeem his creation despite our tendency to stray from his set boundaries. He redeems us by adopting us as His sons and daughters. Listen to parts of the Galatians passage again: “But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of children. You are no longer a slave, but a child; God has made you an heir.” We were slaves to sin, but God came down to earth to find us, to redeem us, and to make us his children and heirs. Early on God set the boundaries. He told us to stay within the walls for our own good. God gave the laws as clear boundary markers to show us what was good and what we should stay away from. But we chose to go outside the walls. We chose to ignore God’s design for our life. We went through the hole in the wall.
We need to understand something about God—He desperately wants to keep us from harm. He has done everything he can short of putting us in a padded room completely sealed off from the world. But he also knows what tough love is. He knows that we have to make the choice to stay within the confines of his will for us. He will not put us in a padded room, but will allow us to make our own decisions. God has set the boundaries, but he is willing to let us cross those boundaries because he desires children who love Him because they want to, not because they have to or know no differently.
I think that is the hardest part about being a parent—showing tough love. We long to protect our kids at all costs. Having a baby has made me realize how treacherous our house is. There are sharp corners at every turn. Live electrical sockets on every wall. Dog bones and bone chips under every table. And I can do all I can to keep the temptation out of Elijah’s reach, but all that seems to do is to spur him on to exploring even further. We must set boundaries for our kids, but we can’t force them to abide by those boundaries. We can protect our children from outside influences, but we can’t protect our children from themselves. It is a tough balance between setting up boundaries for right living, and then letting them ignore those boundaries if they so choose. But we have to allow them to make their own choices and as a result their own mistakes. Tough love means that we, as fathers or parents have to allow our children to make their own free choices. And that is what God has done for us. He loves us and calls us his own. We are His kids. He has set the boundaries and leaves it up to us to decide whether we will abide by them or not. And though this freedom goes against our natural instinct to protect our children, we have to let our children make decisions and love them anyway.
That leads to the second thing we learn about God—nothing can separate us from His love. No matter what we do, and no matter how far we go outside the walls God has set up, he still loves us and comes to find us. This story displays the stark contrast of God’s clear boundaries with his unending grace. It would have been the right thing if God made the wall, allowed us to go through the hole, and then never let us back in; never came out to find us. After all, he told us in advance that leaving the safety of the walled village would make us lost and we might never get back in. But God’s grace and love could not allow that. The love of a father drives him out to find the prodigal child. Not even a wall could separate the love of the father from the child. And not even the wall of sin could separate God’s love from His creation. The Romans passage read earlier reminds us of this fact.
Will trouble separate us from God’s love? Will hard times? Will danger? Will war? Will death? Will the present circumstances? Will the future events? Will distance? Will anything we have done? Will anything else in all creation be able to separate us from the love of God?
That’s right—nothing can separate us from His love. That is the graceful nature of God. No circumstances can change God’s love for us. He loves us no matter what we do and no matter what is done to us. He seeks to redeem us and make us whole again. That is what it means to be a father—that you love your kids no matter how they turn out. If we let our children make their own decisions, we will have to help them through the consequences. I see so many fathers who set boundaries and then when the child crosses them, they turn their backs on their children as though keeping the boundaries is what makes them special and worth loving. But that is not the case. They are worth loving because they are yours. And God loves us because we are His.
There is no doubt that fathers have a difficult task. Somehow they must balance love and discipline, boundaries and grace, holiness and forgiveness. And in a world where good fathers are few and far between; where many have suffered abuse from fathers, abandonment from fathers, a lack of love from fathers, or worse—it seems impossible for them to believe in a heavenly father that loves unconditionally. But that is the God who has left the warm village and ventured over the walls in search of us. He is the one who has come down to redeem you. He is the God who is faithful.
And I think we can learn 2 important things about ourselves and about our heavenly Father through this story whose themes pervade the Bible. First, it is the story of God seeking to redeem his creation despite our tendency to stray from his set boundaries. He redeems us by adopting us as His sons and daughters. Listen to parts of the Galatians passage again: “But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of children. You are no longer a slave, but a child; God has made you an heir.” We were slaves to sin, but God came down to earth to find us, to redeem us, and to make us his children and heirs. Early on God set the boundaries. He told us to stay within the walls for our own good. God gave the laws as clear boundary markers to show us what was good and what we should stay away from. But we chose to go outside the walls. We chose to ignore God’s design for our life. We went through the hole in the wall.
We need to understand something about God—He desperately wants to keep us from harm. He has done everything he can short of putting us in a padded room completely sealed off from the world. But he also knows what tough love is. He knows that we have to make the choice to stay within the confines of his will for us. He will not put us in a padded room, but will allow us to make our own decisions. God has set the boundaries, but he is willing to let us cross those boundaries because he desires children who love Him because they want to, not because they have to or know no differently.
I think that is the hardest part about being a parent—showing tough love. We long to protect our kids at all costs. Having a baby has made me realize how treacherous our house is. There are sharp corners at every turn. Live electrical sockets on every wall. Dog bones and bone chips under every table. And I can do all I can to keep the temptation out of Elijah’s reach, but all that seems to do is to spur him on to exploring even further. We must set boundaries for our kids, but we can’t force them to abide by those boundaries. We can protect our children from outside influences, but we can’t protect our children from themselves. It is a tough balance between setting up boundaries for right living, and then letting them ignore those boundaries if they so choose. But we have to allow them to make their own choices and as a result their own mistakes. Tough love means that we, as fathers or parents have to allow our children to make their own free choices. And that is what God has done for us. He loves us and calls us his own. We are His kids. He has set the boundaries and leaves it up to us to decide whether we will abide by them or not. And though this freedom goes against our natural instinct to protect our children, we have to let our children make decisions and love them anyway.
That leads to the second thing we learn about God—nothing can separate us from His love. No matter what we do, and no matter how far we go outside the walls God has set up, he still loves us and comes to find us. This story displays the stark contrast of God’s clear boundaries with his unending grace. It would have been the right thing if God made the wall, allowed us to go through the hole, and then never let us back in; never came out to find us. After all, he told us in advance that leaving the safety of the walled village would make us lost and we might never get back in. But God’s grace and love could not allow that. The love of a father drives him out to find the prodigal child. Not even a wall could separate the love of the father from the child. And not even the wall of sin could separate God’s love from His creation. The Romans passage read earlier reminds us of this fact.
Will trouble separate us from God’s love? Will hard times? Will danger? Will war? Will death? Will the present circumstances? Will the future events? Will distance? Will anything we have done? Will anything else in all creation be able to separate us from the love of God?
That’s right—nothing can separate us from His love. That is the graceful nature of God. No circumstances can change God’s love for us. He loves us no matter what we do and no matter what is done to us. He seeks to redeem us and make us whole again. That is what it means to be a father—that you love your kids no matter how they turn out. If we let our children make their own decisions, we will have to help them through the consequences. I see so many fathers who set boundaries and then when the child crosses them, they turn their backs on their children as though keeping the boundaries is what makes them special and worth loving. But that is not the case. They are worth loving because they are yours. And God loves us because we are His.
There is no doubt that fathers have a difficult task. Somehow they must balance love and discipline, boundaries and grace, holiness and forgiveness. And in a world where good fathers are few and far between; where many have suffered abuse from fathers, abandonment from fathers, a lack of love from fathers, or worse—it seems impossible for them to believe in a heavenly father that loves unconditionally. But that is the God who has left the warm village and ventured over the walls in search of us. He is the one who has come down to redeem you. He is the God who is faithful.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Father's Day Sermon - Part 1: The Story
"Because I Love You" By Max Lucado
Long ago in a land far away and unlike you’ve ever seen, there lived a wise man named Shaddai. Shaddai was a large man with a tender heart. He had bright blue eyes and a long, thick beard. When he laughed, which is something he often did, his cheeks would lift until his eyes because half-moons of joy. When he sang, which is something else he often did, everything stopped to listen. Tall aspens would bend. Squirrels, butterflies, and birds would pause. Even the children would turn when they heard his voice. And well they should. It was for them he sang.
And for the children, Shaddai had built a wonderful village. It was more than any child could dream. The children plunged into the sky-blue pond. They squealed as they soared high on the swings hung from the apple tree branches. They scampered through the meadows and giggled in the orchards. The sun never seemed to set too early, and the cool night sky always brought a quiet peace. And most of all, Shaddai was always near. When Shaddai wasn’t in the meadow or orchard with the children, he was in the workshop—with the children. They loved to be with him while he worked. They loved to smell the sawdust, hear him sing, and watch him carve a chair out of a log or make a table out of a tree. They would gather around him and take turns pressing their tiny hands flat against his great big one.
Every night he would gather the children on the grassy meadow and tell them stories. Fascinated, the children would listen as long as Shaddai—or their weary eyes—allowed. The children loved Shaddai and Shaddai loved the children. He knew each one by name, and he knew everything about them. He knew Lucy’s love of birds. He knew Roland’s fear of darkness. He knew Daphne was friendly and Spencer was shy. He knew Paladin was curious. When one of them called his name, he dropped whatever he was doing and turned. His giant heart had a hundred strings—each held by a different child. And Shaddai loved each one the same. That’s why he built the wall.
The wall was a high stone fence surrounding the village. Shaddai had built it, rock upon rock. The wall was so tall it stood high above Shaddai. Even if he stretched his arms as high as he could, he still couldn’t touch the top of the wall. He spent days building it. And as he built, he did not sing. A deadly forest stood outside the village. As Shaddai built the fence, he would often pause and look into the shadows beyond. Cruel thorns and savage beasts and hidden pits filled the dark forest. It was no place for the children Shaddai loved. “Beyond the wall is danger,” he would tell the children in solemn tones. “You were made for my village, not for the terrible land beyond. Stay with me. It’s safe here.” But in his heart he knew it was only a matter of time.
The day he placed the final stone on the wall, he returned to his shop, took a long aspen branch, sat down at his bench, and carved a staff. Shaddai stood the staff in the corner and thought, “I’ll be ready.” Sometime later a boy ran into Shaddai’s workshop. The sandy-haired child with searching eyes and restless energy brought the Maker both joy and concern. “Shaddai!” In one motion the Maker dropped his hammer and turned. “What is it Paladin?” The boy spoke in spurts as he gasped for air. “The wall…I found a…hole. It’s a big opening sir.” They boy’s hands stretched to show the size. “Someone could crawl through it.”
Shaddai pulled over a stool and sat down. “I knew it would be you, Paladin, my child. Tell me, how did you find it?” “I was walking along the walls searching for—” “Holes?” Paladin paused, surprised that Shaddai knew. “Yes I was looking for holes.” “So you could see out into the forest?” “I was curious Shaddai. I wanted to know why you won’t let us go out there. Why is it so bad?” Shaddai motioned for the boy to come to him. When Paladin came near, the Maker cupped the small face in his hands and lifted it so the boy would look directly into his eyes. The urgency of the look caused Paladin’s stomach to feel empty.
“Paladin, listen to me. The lands out there are not for you. They are not for me. A journey into the forest will hurt you. You were not made for those lands. Let your feet carry you to the many places you can go—not to the one place you can’t. If you leave here, you will not find the way back.”
Paladin spoke softly, “You will fix the hole then?”
“No, Paladin, I created the hole because I love you so much.”
“But you just said that you don’t want us to leave.”
“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay with me, but I did make the opening when I built this wall.”
“But if you don’t fix it, the children might leave.”
“I know Paladin. But I want the children to stay because they want to, not because they have to.”
Paladin didn’t understand. Uncomfortable, he turned to leave. He needed to think about what Shaddai had said. As he entered the sunlight, he looked back into the shop. There sat Shaddai, leaning backward, still watching. Paladin was confused. Part of him wanted the safety of Shaddai’s shop, while another part drew him toward the fence. He looked again into the shop. Shaddai was standing now—not moving, but standing. His large hand stretched out to the boy. Paladin turned quickly away, as if he hadn’t seen. He walked fast as he could, aimlessly at first, then purposely toward the fence. “I won’t get too near,” he said to himself. “I’ll just peek out.” Questions came as quickly as his steps. Why do I want to do what Shaddai doesn’t want me to do? Why am I so curious? Is it wrong to want to see beyond the fence?
By now Paladin was at the hole. Without stopping to think, he lay on his stomach and squirmed through just far enough to stick his head out the other side. “I’ll just take a quick look,” he told himself. “What could be wrong with that? Shaddai said he made the hole because he loved us. I wonder what he’s keeping from me.” As if his knees were moving on their own, Paladin crawled farther. Soon he was through the hole and on the outside of the wall. He rose slowly to his feet. For several moments he didn’t move. He wondered if something would come out of the trees to hurt him. Nothing did. He relaxed his shoulders and said out loud, “Hmmm…it’s not so bad. It’s nice out here. What was Shaddai worried about?”
Paladin began walking into the forest. Twigs snapped beneath his bare feet. Sweet flowers scented the air. “I don’t seen any scary creatures,” he thought. The trees were so thick he could barely see the sky. “Just a few steps into the woods, to see what it’s like” he said. After a dozen more steps, he stopped. He liked the wilderness and thought there was nothing to fear. For the first time in his young life, he believed that Shaddai was wrong. “Just wait until I tell the others.” And he turned to go back through the hole, but the hole was gone!
He stopped and stared. He only saw a solid wall. Paladin ran to the wall. Was this the spot where he had crawled through? Or was it somewhere else? He couldn’t remember. He ran a dozen steps one way and then a dozen steps the other. Nothing. Suddenly he heard a strange sound in the woods behind him. He swung around, but he saw nothing. Paladin looked into the forest. Now it no longer seemed friendly. It was dark and threatening, as if it were about to destroy him. Desperately Paladin searched the wall. He couldn’t climb over; he couldn’t break though. There was no way home. “If you leave here, you will not find the way back.” Shaddai’s words rang in his mind.
The boy’s eyes were wide with fear. He sat on the ground, hugged his knees to his chest, and began to cry. As Paladin huddled there, lonely and afraid, he remembered something else Shaddai had often said. “I love you so much.” Does he love me enough to come and find me? Wondered the boy. Will he hear me if I call to him? “Shaddai, Shaddai! I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you! Please, come help me.” Paladin’s plea had been heard by the one who loved him, even before it was spoken. For as the boy left Shaddai’s workshop, the Maker had watched him as long as he could. When Paladin was out of his sight, Shaddai turned, not to take up his work but to remove his apron. He hung his tools on the wall. Then he reached into the corner and took the staff, the one he carved after he finished the wall.
Even before Paladin had reached the wall, Shaddai had left the shop. Even before Paladin had asked for help, Shaddai was on the way to give it. Even before the hole in the wall had closed, Shaddai had opened another. His strong hands pulled away the rocks until he could see into the forest. With his staff at his side, Shaddai crawled through the hole. He left the village he’d made and set out in search of his child.
Long ago in a land far away and unlike you’ve ever seen, there lived a wise man named Shaddai. Shaddai was a large man with a tender heart. He had bright blue eyes and a long, thick beard. When he laughed, which is something he often did, his cheeks would lift until his eyes because half-moons of joy. When he sang, which is something else he often did, everything stopped to listen. Tall aspens would bend. Squirrels, butterflies, and birds would pause. Even the children would turn when they heard his voice. And well they should. It was for them he sang.
And for the children, Shaddai had built a wonderful village. It was more than any child could dream. The children plunged into the sky-blue pond. They squealed as they soared high on the swings hung from the apple tree branches. They scampered through the meadows and giggled in the orchards. The sun never seemed to set too early, and the cool night sky always brought a quiet peace. And most of all, Shaddai was always near. When Shaddai wasn’t in the meadow or orchard with the children, he was in the workshop—with the children. They loved to be with him while he worked. They loved to smell the sawdust, hear him sing, and watch him carve a chair out of a log or make a table out of a tree. They would gather around him and take turns pressing their tiny hands flat against his great big one.
Every night he would gather the children on the grassy meadow and tell them stories. Fascinated, the children would listen as long as Shaddai—or their weary eyes—allowed. The children loved Shaddai and Shaddai loved the children. He knew each one by name, and he knew everything about them. He knew Lucy’s love of birds. He knew Roland’s fear of darkness. He knew Daphne was friendly and Spencer was shy. He knew Paladin was curious. When one of them called his name, he dropped whatever he was doing and turned. His giant heart had a hundred strings—each held by a different child. And Shaddai loved each one the same. That’s why he built the wall.
The wall was a high stone fence surrounding the village. Shaddai had built it, rock upon rock. The wall was so tall it stood high above Shaddai. Even if he stretched his arms as high as he could, he still couldn’t touch the top of the wall. He spent days building it. And as he built, he did not sing. A deadly forest stood outside the village. As Shaddai built the fence, he would often pause and look into the shadows beyond. Cruel thorns and savage beasts and hidden pits filled the dark forest. It was no place for the children Shaddai loved. “Beyond the wall is danger,” he would tell the children in solemn tones. “You were made for my village, not for the terrible land beyond. Stay with me. It’s safe here.” But in his heart he knew it was only a matter of time.
The day he placed the final stone on the wall, he returned to his shop, took a long aspen branch, sat down at his bench, and carved a staff. Shaddai stood the staff in the corner and thought, “I’ll be ready.” Sometime later a boy ran into Shaddai’s workshop. The sandy-haired child with searching eyes and restless energy brought the Maker both joy and concern. “Shaddai!” In one motion the Maker dropped his hammer and turned. “What is it Paladin?” The boy spoke in spurts as he gasped for air. “The wall…I found a…hole. It’s a big opening sir.” They boy’s hands stretched to show the size. “Someone could crawl through it.”
Shaddai pulled over a stool and sat down. “I knew it would be you, Paladin, my child. Tell me, how did you find it?” “I was walking along the walls searching for—” “Holes?” Paladin paused, surprised that Shaddai knew. “Yes I was looking for holes.” “So you could see out into the forest?” “I was curious Shaddai. I wanted to know why you won’t let us go out there. Why is it so bad?” Shaddai motioned for the boy to come to him. When Paladin came near, the Maker cupped the small face in his hands and lifted it so the boy would look directly into his eyes. The urgency of the look caused Paladin’s stomach to feel empty.
“Paladin, listen to me. The lands out there are not for you. They are not for me. A journey into the forest will hurt you. You were not made for those lands. Let your feet carry you to the many places you can go—not to the one place you can’t. If you leave here, you will not find the way back.”
Paladin spoke softly, “You will fix the hole then?”
“No, Paladin, I created the hole because I love you so much.”
“But you just said that you don’t want us to leave.”
“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay with me, but I did make the opening when I built this wall.”
“But if you don’t fix it, the children might leave.”
“I know Paladin. But I want the children to stay because they want to, not because they have to.”
Paladin didn’t understand. Uncomfortable, he turned to leave. He needed to think about what Shaddai had said. As he entered the sunlight, he looked back into the shop. There sat Shaddai, leaning backward, still watching. Paladin was confused. Part of him wanted the safety of Shaddai’s shop, while another part drew him toward the fence. He looked again into the shop. Shaddai was standing now—not moving, but standing. His large hand stretched out to the boy. Paladin turned quickly away, as if he hadn’t seen. He walked fast as he could, aimlessly at first, then purposely toward the fence. “I won’t get too near,” he said to himself. “I’ll just peek out.” Questions came as quickly as his steps. Why do I want to do what Shaddai doesn’t want me to do? Why am I so curious? Is it wrong to want to see beyond the fence?
By now Paladin was at the hole. Without stopping to think, he lay on his stomach and squirmed through just far enough to stick his head out the other side. “I’ll just take a quick look,” he told himself. “What could be wrong with that? Shaddai said he made the hole because he loved us. I wonder what he’s keeping from me.” As if his knees were moving on their own, Paladin crawled farther. Soon he was through the hole and on the outside of the wall. He rose slowly to his feet. For several moments he didn’t move. He wondered if something would come out of the trees to hurt him. Nothing did. He relaxed his shoulders and said out loud, “Hmmm…it’s not so bad. It’s nice out here. What was Shaddai worried about?”
Paladin began walking into the forest. Twigs snapped beneath his bare feet. Sweet flowers scented the air. “I don’t seen any scary creatures,” he thought. The trees were so thick he could barely see the sky. “Just a few steps into the woods, to see what it’s like” he said. After a dozen more steps, he stopped. He liked the wilderness and thought there was nothing to fear. For the first time in his young life, he believed that Shaddai was wrong. “Just wait until I tell the others.” And he turned to go back through the hole, but the hole was gone!
He stopped and stared. He only saw a solid wall. Paladin ran to the wall. Was this the spot where he had crawled through? Or was it somewhere else? He couldn’t remember. He ran a dozen steps one way and then a dozen steps the other. Nothing. Suddenly he heard a strange sound in the woods behind him. He swung around, but he saw nothing. Paladin looked into the forest. Now it no longer seemed friendly. It was dark and threatening, as if it were about to destroy him. Desperately Paladin searched the wall. He couldn’t climb over; he couldn’t break though. There was no way home. “If you leave here, you will not find the way back.” Shaddai’s words rang in his mind.
The boy’s eyes were wide with fear. He sat on the ground, hugged his knees to his chest, and began to cry. As Paladin huddled there, lonely and afraid, he remembered something else Shaddai had often said. “I love you so much.” Does he love me enough to come and find me? Wondered the boy. Will he hear me if I call to him? “Shaddai, Shaddai! I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you! Please, come help me.” Paladin’s plea had been heard by the one who loved him, even before it was spoken. For as the boy left Shaddai’s workshop, the Maker had watched him as long as he could. When Paladin was out of his sight, Shaddai turned, not to take up his work but to remove his apron. He hung his tools on the wall. Then he reached into the corner and took the staff, the one he carved after he finished the wall.
Even before Paladin had reached the wall, Shaddai had left the shop. Even before Paladin had asked for help, Shaddai was on the way to give it. Even before the hole in the wall had closed, Shaddai had opened another. His strong hands pulled away the rocks until he could see into the forest. With his staff at his side, Shaddai crawled through the hole. He left the village he’d made and set out in search of his child.
Friday, June 17, 2005
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Camp Experience Part IV
I am not an emotional man. Few things bring me to tears, anger, exuberant celebration, etc. But there are some things that one experiences that draw out our innermost emotions. And unless you possess a heart comparable with Pharaoh’s, you have a reaction.
Such was the case after watching “Hotel Rwanda” while at camp. I am thoroughly changed to say the least. Here I am over a week after the fact, and I still have trouble putting words to what I am feeling. But my emotional outpouring could be at an all time high. Words such as anger, shame, frustration, and sadness begin to describe my state of mind.
I have known for a long time that atrocities have been going on in the world, especially in Africa. But to see it so vividly painted was almost too much. The most distressing phrase from the movie that encapsulated the average American mindset was the following (paraphrased from memory): “You hear about what happens and you say ‘What a shame.’ Then you go on eating your supper.” I can’t tell you how profound and accurate that is. We see some stories reported on the news and go, “Well that sucks, but I can’t do anything about it.” Dammit all, people are being slaughtered for arbitrary reasons, and we bitch about gas prices. It is just too much sometimes. Too much. Maybe when I get a better handle on it I will write more. I guess that is it for now.
Such was the case after watching “Hotel Rwanda” while at camp. I am thoroughly changed to say the least. Here I am over a week after the fact, and I still have trouble putting words to what I am feeling. But my emotional outpouring could be at an all time high. Words such as anger, shame, frustration, and sadness begin to describe my state of mind. I have known for a long time that atrocities have been going on in the world, especially in Africa. But to see it so vividly painted was almost too much. The most distressing phrase from the movie that encapsulated the average American mindset was the following (paraphrased from memory): “You hear about what happens and you say ‘What a shame.’ Then you go on eating your supper.” I can’t tell you how profound and accurate that is. We see some stories reported on the news and go, “Well that sucks, but I can’t do anything about it.” Dammit all, people are being slaughtered for arbitrary reasons, and we bitch about gas prices. It is just too much sometimes. Too much. Maybe when I get a better handle on it I will write more. I guess that is it for now.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Camp Experience Part III
On Friday of camp, each family contributed something to the worship service. My group was in charge of the "Afirmation of faith." Thus, we came up with our own creed. The ideas are all theirs - I just organized and reworded it for clarity. Big props go out to Whitney, Angela, Logan, Tsedeye, Sam, Jordan, Robby, Oliyad. We call it the Malaria Creed because we called our family "Malaria." Hope you enjoy.Malaria Creed
We believe in the Lord God Almighty, the One and only true God
The Maker of the Universe—even spiders, gnats and mosquitoes.
We believe that God helps us when we are weak
And that his tough love overcomes our stubbornness.
We believe that God is the Protector of the weak
And the Forgiver of sins.
We believe that God is faithful and answers prayer
Without Him we are nothing.
With Him we are precious.
We believe that God makes miracles happen.
We believe that God is the Giver of joy and happiness.
We believe that we died in Christ,
that Baptism washes away our sins,
that the Spirit is our conscience and our strength,
and that we have been gifted to build up the body.
We believe that we are assigned to be caretakers of God’s creation
and that Praise and Worship is our calling and our life’s end.
We believe that it is our goal to ameliorate all situations.
We believe in the Fellowship of Christians
We believe the church is made up of all who believe in Christ.
We believe we are called to commune with one another and Christ to remember His sacrifice.
We have assurance that Christians will make it into heaven
We look forward to everlasting life with Christ.
Amen.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Camp Experience Part II
Parents tell kids not to stare at people’s imperfections. Why is that? We don’t want them to make people feel uncomfortable about their past. But our pasts are often uncomfortable. We try to hide our scars—our past failures. We don’t want people to look at us differently. But they do.
Our pasts are always with us, whether we want them there or not. You can’t escape your past. It shapes and forms you so that you react and behave in certain ways. Though your context has changed, your past is still relevant. And most of us are frantic to hide our pasts so people don’t stare. So the question is this: “So how can your past be redeemed and utilized for good.” How can all the things that you have experienced, the good and the bad, the best and the worst, help you be a better person, be a better Christian, love God and others more?
There is a great scene from Lost:
Kate: “I want to tell you what I did.”
Jack: “I don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter who we were, what we did before the crash. 3 days ago we all died. We should all be able to start over.”
That is the picture of redemption. If we were stranded on an island we would get a fresh start. No one would know anything about you unless you told them. God has the same attitude, even though he does know everything about us. He accepts us despite what we have done. There ‘s a little story in John 8 about this.
Jesus stands among a crowd, and they bring her in. She’s known throughout the town as a slut, and they finally caught her in the act. They caught her having sex with some guy she barely knew. So they bring her before Jesus and start in on her.
“We caught her Jesus. This whore was caught having sex, and she’s not married. We can’t have this sort of stuff in our synagogue. What would people think? Let’s get rid of this filth. What do you think? Beating? whipping? stoning? Hello? Jesus? Are you going to play in the dirt all day or are you going to get up and help us execute the law?”
Jesus finally rises and says: “I’ll help you. Let’s head down to the stoning pit. Everyone who doesn’t have a past grab a stone and let’s get going. That’s right—all of you who haven’t done anything wrong or worthy of punishment can join me. We’ll get her good.”
As he stoops back down the people look around in amazement that he would say something like that. Their past’s were nothing compared to this sluts, but there it was. How could they pick up a rock, after all that had done some things. So they went home, embarrassed, angry, frustrated that they could not enforce their brand of justice.
Jesus looked at the woman and said simply—“I guess you aren’t going to die today. I’m not going to stone you. I care more about forgiveness than justice. But let me make it clear. If you leave here today having accepted my forgiveness and you go back to your promiscuous way of life, you’re trashing my grace. Live new. Live free. Live forgiven.”
This is the story of God’s faithfulness compared to our sinfulness. It was completely within Jesus’ right to execute that woman. It is completely within God’s right to press the smite button for us. But he doesn’t. God is faithful to his character of love and holiness no matter what we do. Psalm 107 contrasts God’s faithful past against our sinful past. The point of the psalm is clear—God’s faithfulness can redeem our unfaithfulness.
No matter what the people did, no matter how often they turned their backs on God, God would still restore them. God’s faithfulness overrides our unfaithfulness. No matter what we have done, no matter what we will do, God can forgive. And until we get that, our pasts will haunt us, control us, and dictate how we live, and we will never get past them. We can either accept God’s forgiveness or return to the life of sin. But if we choose to live a life of gratitude because of God’s faithfulness, he is calling us to be the voice of light in the dark world. He is calling us to learn from our pasts and build up the body through our experiences. May we live like those who have been given a fresh start and may we treat one another in the say way.
Our pasts are always with us, whether we want them there or not. You can’t escape your past. It shapes and forms you so that you react and behave in certain ways. Though your context has changed, your past is still relevant. And most of us are frantic to hide our pasts so people don’t stare. So the question is this: “So how can your past be redeemed and utilized for good.” How can all the things that you have experienced, the good and the bad, the best and the worst, help you be a better person, be a better Christian, love God and others more?
There is a great scene from Lost:Kate: “I want to tell you what I did.”
Jack: “I don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter who we were, what we did before the crash. 3 days ago we all died. We should all be able to start over.”
That is the picture of redemption. If we were stranded on an island we would get a fresh start. No one would know anything about you unless you told them. God has the same attitude, even though he does know everything about us. He accepts us despite what we have done. There ‘s a little story in John 8 about this.
Jesus stands among a crowd, and they bring her in. She’s known throughout the town as a slut, and they finally caught her in the act. They caught her having sex with some guy she barely knew. So they bring her before Jesus and start in on her.
“We caught her Jesus. This whore was caught having sex, and she’s not married. We can’t have this sort of stuff in our synagogue. What would people think? Let’s get rid of this filth. What do you think? Beating? whipping? stoning? Hello? Jesus? Are you going to play in the dirt all day or are you going to get up and help us execute the law?”
Jesus finally rises and says: “I’ll help you. Let’s head down to the stoning pit. Everyone who doesn’t have a past grab a stone and let’s get going. That’s right—all of you who haven’t done anything wrong or worthy of punishment can join me. We’ll get her good.”
As he stoops back down the people look around in amazement that he would say something like that. Their past’s were nothing compared to this sluts, but there it was. How could they pick up a rock, after all that had done some things. So they went home, embarrassed, angry, frustrated that they could not enforce their brand of justice.
Jesus looked at the woman and said simply—“I guess you aren’t going to die today. I’m not going to stone you. I care more about forgiveness than justice. But let me make it clear. If you leave here today having accepted my forgiveness and you go back to your promiscuous way of life, you’re trashing my grace. Live new. Live free. Live forgiven.”
This is the story of God’s faithfulness compared to our sinfulness. It was completely within Jesus’ right to execute that woman. It is completely within God’s right to press the smite button for us. But he doesn’t. God is faithful to his character of love and holiness no matter what we do. Psalm 107 contrasts God’s faithful past against our sinful past. The point of the psalm is clear—God’s faithfulness can redeem our unfaithfulness.
No matter what the people did, no matter how often they turned their backs on God, God would still restore them. God’s faithfulness overrides our unfaithfulness. No matter what we have done, no matter what we will do, God can forgive. And until we get that, our pasts will haunt us, control us, and dictate how we live, and we will never get past them. We can either accept God’s forgiveness or return to the life of sin. But if we choose to live a life of gratitude because of God’s faithfulness, he is calling us to be the voice of light in the dark world. He is calling us to learn from our pasts and build up the body through our experiences. May we live like those who have been given a fresh start and may we treat one another in the say way.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Camp Experience Part 1
The theme for this past week of High School camp was “Lost.” The idea was to vividly portray Peter’s concept in his first epistle that we are resident aliens in a strange and foreign place, but that our lives should still be exemplary.To that end, we staged a plane crash and went the week simulating life on a deserted island. Let me say, the plane crash was awesome! I was sort of the head pyro for that. We had a crashed plane fuselage that we put napalm on top of. We dug a couple of trenches and put pans of kerosene with wreckage on top of. Then we lit it all on fire, dropped a couple of smoke bombs, and the crash was believable.
Of course blowing things up was not the point of the week. Rather, we wanted the students to ask questions and hopefully receive an answer. Questions like:
How will we survive? What will we do for food?
How will I interact with the rest of the people stranded with me?
What about the unknown on this island? Are there natives? Are they friendly?
What will the future hold? Should I seek rescue or try to thrive here?
What about my past? Does it matter? Can it be redeemed?
It was a very unique and experiential week both for the students and staff. Life as a Christian was presented in a different way that encouraged us as Christians to approach our relationship with Christ and others in a much different way. This week I hope to unpack some of the theological themes found throughout the week. You are welcome to browse through the over 300 photos from the week at the camp’s website.
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Mysterious Disappearence
For those of you who have been wondering where I have been for the last week the answer is—camp. I was a counselor at High School Camp to be precise. The theme was “Lost” and focused on being aliens in a foreign land. I will talk more about it this upcoming week as I had some interesting interactions with students and other experiences. But, as for today, I am pretty tired. I was supposed to drive the children’s ministry to the Zoo, but was relieved of that duty last minute. So today, I was stinky clothes, get to know my wife, son, and dog again, and get things ready for tomorrow’s service. Until Monday, later.
Friday, June 03, 2005
God is Greater than Jesus
“I'm leaving you peace. I'm giving you my peace. I don't give you the kind of peace that the world gives. So don't be troubled or cowardly. You heard me tell you, 'I'm going away, but I'm coming back to you.' If you loved me, you would be glad that I'm going to the Father, because the Father is greater than I am.
I'm telling you this now before it happens. When it does happen, you will believe. The ruler of this world has no power over me. But he's coming, so I won't talk with you much longer. However, I want the world to know that I love the Father and that I am doing exactly what the Father has commanded me to do.”
John 14:27-31
Jesus says simply, “God, my Father, is greater than I am.” I think we can learn 2 things about our relationship with God. First, don’t be afraid. Take a minute and thing of some of the greatest things Jesus did. Think of how amazing Jesus was. Besides all the miracles, he also had commitment to purity and sinlessness and was perfect. Never made a mistake. It is like being on a team with the best player in the league. Jesus was the Michael Jordan, the Wayne Gretzky, the Barry Bonds, the Michael Vick of the religious realm. He did things that others could only dream about. He performed miracles that others could not even imagine. He was the superstar. But he was leaving, just when the disciples thought they needed him most. Jesus even talks about the rule of this world who he makes out to be a scary fellow. So when he says “I’m leaving, but there is one even greater than me” that’s pretty unbelievable.
It would be like Michael Jordan coming to practice the day before the playoffs started and saying, “I am retiring. But don’t worry, I have someone lined up to take my spot on the team. He can jump higher, make more shots, play better defense, and win more games that I ever could.” That would be unbelievable. At first you might be bummed, but then you think, “If we did this well with Jordan, think how well we will do with this other guy.” And that is what Jesus is saying. He says, I am leaving soon. But someone who’s even more powerful than me comes in my place. He was leaving the Spirit of God in his place. And if God is greater than him, think of the possibilities. I am sure there were going to be times when the disciples were scared, but they had an ally, a teammate that was far more powerful than anything they would face.
There are a lot of difficult circumstances to face in this world. There are things that might trouble us or act cowardly. But Jesus says to us like he said to the disciples, don’t worry. If you believe in me believe that God who is greater than me can take care of the things you encounter. Don’t be afraid.
Second, look forward to heaven when we enjoy God for eternity. Before meeting Jesus, these guys weren’t about to try anything new. They weren’t about to leave their fishing boats to wander around Israel. They weren’t about to turn their backs on their families. They weren’t about to go up against the religious leaders. They were fine just staying in the corner and blending in. But when Jesus came along, he changed all that. Through their relationship with him, they became better people. They became world changers. Jesus made them feel truly alive. So when Jesus said to them, I have to leave, they were upset. They didn’t want him to leave. They loved spending time with him.
Think of your favorite relationship. That person that you can just be yourself, and act crazy and not care. That was how the disciples felt with Jesus. But Jesus makes it clear—a relationship with the father is even better. Jesus said the relationship with God is even greater. Jesus says that if you think that being with me is a blast, wait until you meet the father. Wait until you meet God. When you see what God has in store for you in heaven, you won’t even remember this.
A relationship with Jesus can be pretty exciting. But it doesn’t hold a candle to what it is going to be like in heaven. I can dream about it and make guesses, but hanging out with God in heaven is something that I look forward to. No one is going to care about looking stupid or foolish. We are just going to care about worshipping God and He is just going to care about lavishing us with love. Accepting Jesus and living for him is just a taste of what heaven will be like. It will be awesome, because the Father is greater than the Son. A relationship with God in heaven is greater than a relationship with Jesus here on earth. Both are good, but the one in heaven is going to be even better. God is greater than Jesus. He gives us strength and courage to make it through today, and he gives us something unbelievable to look forward to.
I'm telling you this now before it happens. When it does happen, you will believe. The ruler of this world has no power over me. But he's coming, so I won't talk with you much longer. However, I want the world to know that I love the Father and that I am doing exactly what the Father has commanded me to do.”
John 14:27-31
Jesus says simply, “God, my Father, is greater than I am.” I think we can learn 2 things about our relationship with God. First, don’t be afraid. Take a minute and thing of some of the greatest things Jesus did. Think of how amazing Jesus was. Besides all the miracles, he also had commitment to purity and sinlessness and was perfect. Never made a mistake. It is like being on a team with the best player in the league. Jesus was the Michael Jordan, the Wayne Gretzky, the Barry Bonds, the Michael Vick of the religious realm. He did things that others could only dream about. He performed miracles that others could not even imagine. He was the superstar. But he was leaving, just when the disciples thought they needed him most. Jesus even talks about the rule of this world who he makes out to be a scary fellow. So when he says “I’m leaving, but there is one even greater than me” that’s pretty unbelievable.It would be like Michael Jordan coming to practice the day before the playoffs started and saying, “I am retiring. But don’t worry, I have someone lined up to take my spot on the team. He can jump higher, make more shots, play better defense, and win more games that I ever could.” That would be unbelievable. At first you might be bummed, but then you think, “If we did this well with Jordan, think how well we will do with this other guy.” And that is what Jesus is saying. He says, I am leaving soon. But someone who’s even more powerful than me comes in my place. He was leaving the Spirit of God in his place. And if God is greater than him, think of the possibilities. I am sure there were going to be times when the disciples were scared, but they had an ally, a teammate that was far more powerful than anything they would face.
There are a lot of difficult circumstances to face in this world. There are things that might trouble us or act cowardly. But Jesus says to us like he said to the disciples, don’t worry. If you believe in me believe that God who is greater than me can take care of the things you encounter. Don’t be afraid.
Second, look forward to heaven when we enjoy God for eternity. Before meeting Jesus, these guys weren’t about to try anything new. They weren’t about to leave their fishing boats to wander around Israel. They weren’t about to turn their backs on their families. They weren’t about to go up against the religious leaders. They were fine just staying in the corner and blending in. But when Jesus came along, he changed all that. Through their relationship with him, they became better people. They became world changers. Jesus made them feel truly alive. So when Jesus said to them, I have to leave, they were upset. They didn’t want him to leave. They loved spending time with him.
Think of your favorite relationship. That person that you can just be yourself, and act crazy and not care. That was how the disciples felt with Jesus. But Jesus makes it clear—a relationship with the father is even better. Jesus said the relationship with God is even greater. Jesus says that if you think that being with me is a blast, wait until you meet the father. Wait until you meet God. When you see what God has in store for you in heaven, you won’t even remember this.
A relationship with Jesus can be pretty exciting. But it doesn’t hold a candle to what it is going to be like in heaven. I can dream about it and make guesses, but hanging out with God in heaven is something that I look forward to. No one is going to care about looking stupid or foolish. We are just going to care about worshipping God and He is just going to care about lavishing us with love. Accepting Jesus and living for him is just a taste of what heaven will be like. It will be awesome, because the Father is greater than the Son. A relationship with God in heaven is greater than a relationship with Jesus here on earth. Both are good, but the one in heaven is going to be even better. God is greater than Jesus. He gives us strength and courage to make it through today, and he gives us something unbelievable to look forward to.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Love is Greater than the Law
I heard some interesting debates during the last presidential election. I heard about the war in Iraq, about social security, about gas prices…the list went on and on. And each candidate would spew his point of view, sort of. There was a lot of sort of taking a side, and then going back, straddling the fence. There was a lot of trying to trap people with their words. As a result, they couldn’t come out and say what they believed about things because they didn’t want to offend anyone. That is why it is always refreshing to hear an honest answer.
Jesus was acquainted with this sort of plot to trap him in his words. Jesus was not to be painted in a corner by anyone. People would often ask him a question to try and get him to foul up. But Jesus always had a reply ready. For example, there was this one time…
"One of the teachers of the law came and heard Jesus debating with some people. Noticing that Jesus knew what he was talking about and had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the 614 commandments in the Old Testament, which is the most important?” Jesus, without a second thought said, “The most important commandment, is this: ‘The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all that you have—all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” Mark 12:28ff
What Jesus is saying is that all the laws that are in the OT, all the sorts of rules that are put on us are based on love. Love is greater than law. Those laws are visible ways that we can display love for God and love for others. The point is not that we keep a bunch of rules, but that we love. It starts with God. Are our actions showing love for God and what he has done for us? He has given you life, given you your very body, given you salvation. So when you do things, is it honoring that love? What you do with your body and how you treat it shows the extent that you love God.
And then consider whether your actions are showing love to another person. Our speech falls into this category. There are no laws against lying to people, but it sure isn’t showing them love. You won’t get thrown into jail for hating, lusting, or envying, but do those actions show them love? No, of course not.
Laws don’t keep people from doing things, their hearts do. All rules do is get people thinking about how to get around them. You say, but how about if I just get angry but don’t act on it? What if I drink but don’t get drunk? What if I smoke casually? What if I lust but don’t go through with anything? We all do it. We try to get around the rules. But all that is law keeping. God is calling us to love. When you put it in the context of love, there are no loopholes, ifs, ands or buts. Love makes it clear what actions we should and should not take.
We can lay down a bunch of rules if we wanted to about what to do and what not to do. And most Christian folk do. And though those rules may be good ideas, the reality is clear—if you are not loving, then those rules are worthless. The test of our actions and our life as a Christian is simple—not are we living according to rules, but are we loving. Does my action show love for God, myself, and others? Love is greater than law.
Jesus was acquainted with this sort of plot to trap him in his words. Jesus was not to be painted in a corner by anyone. People would often ask him a question to try and get him to foul up. But Jesus always had a reply ready. For example, there was this one time…
"One of the teachers of the law came and heard Jesus debating with some people. Noticing that Jesus knew what he was talking about and had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the 614 commandments in the Old Testament, which is the most important?” Jesus, without a second thought said, “The most important commandment, is this: ‘The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all that you have—all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” Mark 12:28ff
What Jesus is saying is that all the laws that are in the OT, all the sorts of rules that are put on us are based on love. Love is greater than law. Those laws are visible ways that we can display love for God and love for others. The point is not that we keep a bunch of rules, but that we love. It starts with God. Are our actions showing love for God and what he has done for us? He has given you life, given you your very body, given you salvation. So when you do things, is it honoring that love? What you do with your body and how you treat it shows the extent that you love God. And then consider whether your actions are showing love to another person. Our speech falls into this category. There are no laws against lying to people, but it sure isn’t showing them love. You won’t get thrown into jail for hating, lusting, or envying, but do those actions show them love? No, of course not.
Laws don’t keep people from doing things, their hearts do. All rules do is get people thinking about how to get around them. You say, but how about if I just get angry but don’t act on it? What if I drink but don’t get drunk? What if I smoke casually? What if I lust but don’t go through with anything? We all do it. We try to get around the rules. But all that is law keeping. God is calling us to love. When you put it in the context of love, there are no loopholes, ifs, ands or buts. Love makes it clear what actions we should and should not take.
We can lay down a bunch of rules if we wanted to about what to do and what not to do. And most Christian folk do. And though those rules may be good ideas, the reality is clear—if you are not loving, then those rules are worthless. The test of our actions and our life as a Christian is simple—not are we living according to rules, but are we loving. Does my action show love for God, myself, and others? Love is greater than law.
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