David, Bathsheba, The Baby and God

This morning I read 2 Samuel 11 and 12, the story of how David committed adultery (rape, really, considering the power differential) with Uriah's wife Bathsheba, then had him killed in order to cover it up. Three things gave me pause to reflect.

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First, Nathan confronts David using a story about a rich man who takes a poor man's sheep in order to feed a traveler. The traveler represents David's passing urge to have Bathsheba just because she's attractive.

What are the "travelers" you have to deal with? Things that are passing, that you have a hard time not "feeding?"

In a way,I think my depression episodes are like that. They are travelers in my life, passing through (although often staying way too long like bad house guests). And I feed them with the attention that really belongs to others in my life.

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Second, the story tells how God punished David by killing the baby boy born to him and Bathsheba. How do we understand or interpret that? I see three options and there are probably more.

The first option is to take it at face value. That's really what happened and why. This leads to a dilemma. If I believe the text is literally true, I can't understand how God could be considered loving and just by killing the child. But if I believe that God is loving and just and would never do such a thing, then I can't see how the text could be literally true. Personally, I can't accept the idea that God would act in this way. So I find myself looking for different ways to understand the text, rather than different ways to understand God.

A second option is to simply say that the events never happened at all. The story was made up or constructed from other bits of fact and rumor, and included in the Bible perhaps for the way it shows there are consequences for sin, and for the example of God's faithfulness (to David) by being willing to forgive him.

A third option is to accept that the *events* are historical, but that the *interpretation* is something that made sense to the writers, but is not one I can accept. So, the real David had a real child with Bathsheba and the child really died. The writers see this and conclude that the death was caused by God as punishment. They don't seem to struggle with the way that portrays God as I do, perhaps because they think it *does* reflect the true character of God to act that way, pr perhaps because they don't view children as having the same value as adults, the way we do.

How do you read the text?

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Third: at the end of chapter 12, David conquers the Ammonites. He "emptied the (capitol) city of its people and put them to slave labor using saws, picks, and axes, and making bricks."

He treated them just like the way the Egyptians treated his own ancestors, even to the point of forcing them to make bricks. (Exodus 1:13-14)

It's just unbelievably tragic that the oppressed have now become the oppressors.

It's astonishing that God continued to be faithful to his people in the face of this. Even so, God is faithful to us in whatever atrocities we may be guilty of.

Tim's Toolbox: STORY - We Learn It to Live It

For followers of Jesus, story is important in many, many ways. Jesus taught in stories; the story of Jesus reveals who God is and what God has done; the stories of Scripture are a treasure chest for the life of faith; our personal stories are the way we bear witness to Jesus; seeing our own story as part of a larger story gives life context and meaning, and living in a story that we know ends in eternal life gives us hope and courage for the days along the way.

The Old Testament story unfolds as a series of movements on a map. Abraham and Sarah journey from their home in the East, up over the top of the Fertile Crescent and down into the Promised Land. That journey is represented by the upper curved arrow in the Story icon. Later, their descendants leave the Promised Land and move to Egypt, represented in the lower curved arrow. The story continues over many generations with a return to the Promised Land from Egypt in the Exodus, followed by a deportation back to the East in the Exile. The Old Testament story concludes with a final journey of return to the Promised Land to await the coming of the Messiah.

The New Testament story also unfolds on a map, but this time as an ever widening circle centered on Jerusalem. The life and work of Jesus unfolds there, then moves further and further into the rest of the world as his disciples share the message “in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8)

In both the Old and New Testaments, God’s goal remains the same (to embrace ALL people throughout the world), and the same basic strategy is used (commissioning a group of people to live out the message of God’s love.) In the Old Testament however, the approach is to have those people in a central location so that the message can go out from there. (Micah 4:2b) In the New Testament it’s the people themselves that are sent out into the world, bearing the message with them as they go. (Matthew 28:19)

The story of God’s activity in the world to deliver the message of love does not end with what’s written in the Bible. The story continues on through all the people that came afterwards, including each one of us. When we are called to be “witnesses,” it’s a call for us to tell our own stories of how God has touched and blessed us. Story is still the way that God is at work in the world.

Jesus used stories and parables when he taught 2000 years ago and he still uses stories to speak to us today, calling to mind a story from Scripture or life. Sharing these stories with each other is part of how we listen to God together, and how we care for and encourage each other. Stories become for us a kind of lexicon, a dictionary of images, ideas, themes and emotions that are able to catch our attention and strike chords in our minds, hearts and spirits. When we read stories in Scripture, we may begin by looking for what God said to people at the time since it may also apply to us today. But we also listen through the stories for what God is saying to us now. The story is still being told.

Genesis 12:1-3; Micah 4:1-2; Zechariah 8:20-23; Matthew 28:16-20; Acts 1:1-11; Acts 7; Hebrews 11:4-40

Tim's Toolbox: MYSTERY - Not Understanding is Normal

Sometimes we think that the most important thing in Christianity is what we know and understand. We place huge emphasis on having the “right” theology, being able to explain and make sense out of difficult Bible passages and so on. We are tempted to believe that everything can be explained, that we can understand every explanation, and that anything that “doesn’t make sense” must not be true.

In fact, there are things we don’t know, there are things we can’t know, and there are things we think we know but are actually completely wrong about. This is true in daily life, and even more so in spiritual life. When we encounter the limits of what we can know with our minds we enter into Mystery.

Not knowing everything is normal for humans. Even Jesus had limits to what he knew. He once told his disciples that only the Father knew when the end would come (Mark 13:32). And Jesus suffered with the pain of an unanswered question on the cross when he cried “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34) Paul reminds us that at least for the time being “…we see through a mirror dimly” (1 Corinthians 13:12) and that “no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

If our faith relied on what we know we would be in trouble indeed. Mystery reminds us that our faith is not about knowledge but trust. It’s one thing to believe that Jesus rose from the dead – to hold that statement as true. It’s quite a different thing to believe in Jesus as someone you trust.

Embracing Mystery and accepting that our knowledge is always limited and imperfect can relieve us from the fears and anxieties about not “getting it right.” In fact, this is one of the things we trust Jesus for: not only are we forgiven for our sins, but also for our false, mistaken and misunderstood beliefs. Released from these fears we are able to “hold loosely” our ideas about faith and life and be ready to learn more. This also encourages us to speak with humility about what we believe to be true, and listen with openness to the ideas of others. Acknowledging Mystery helps us to resist the temptations of intellectual pride.

Embracing Mystery can also help us to set aside our questions when there are more important things at hand than just understanding. In John 9 Jesus encounters a man blind from birth. His disciples and the religious leaders are fixated on the theological questions. Jesus sees the man as a person, not as a case study, and heals him. We may want to wrestle endlessly over questions like “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Mystery reminds us to consider whether getting answers is really more important than giving help to someone in need.

1 Corinthians 2; 1 Corinthians 8; Romans 11:33-34; Ephesians 3; Job 38

"Road Trip" Sermon #7 - Repent (Come and See!)

Message #7 in my "Road Trip" series at St. Stephen's Lutheran Church.

Title: "Repent (Come and See!)"

Summary: Continues to unpack the condensed version of the message of Jesus in Mark 1:15 "The time is fulfilled and the Kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe the good news!" The focus this time is the word "Repent." Although the word is strongly connected to risk and threat in our culture, it doesn't just refer to the need to turn from something bad. It can also be a call to turn towards something wonderful. In fact, every turning involved both a turn-from and a turn-towards. In the message of Jesus however, the emphasis is on the arrival of the Kingdom, which is not to be seen as a threat, but as "good news!" The message of Jesus is a turn-towards invitation, and adopting that perspective can change the way we experience our lives.

Slides: Click here to view the slides from the sermon in a new window.

Audio: Click here to listen to the sermon audio from Sunday February 11th, 2018.

Video: See the message here on Facebook Live.

Find the whole series here.

Birth Defects and the "Image of God"

Thought I'd share a little theological musing with you this morning.

In a clergy group I belong to, a member asked; "God creates us and we are made in the image of God, what are some good responses to someone who questions this because they were born with severe handicaps/illness, etc.?"

Here's the reply I offered.

To me, being created in the "image of God" means that humans have, in the essence of what they are, a similarity to God in the essence of what God is. I understand the essence of God as being "persons-in-relationship" (with all the good Trinitarian stuff that evokes), and so I see the essence of being human is in our design to also be persons-in-relationship. From that perspective, the condition of one's physical body isn't that much related to how one bears the image of God.

As regards congenital handicaps etc., I see that as simply an aspect of the brokenness of creation which leads to some of us being born with bodies that are far from what God intended in the original design for humans. In my own case for example, I was born with propensities that have shown up over the years as both depression and diabetes. That's a reflection of the uniqueness of my personal brokenness.

Interview with the Blogger

My friend Ry Edwards just posted an interview he did with me! It's 20 minutes and touches on why I believe in God, my favorite metaphor for understanding what it means to be human, and a Developers Conference I'm presenting at coming up in August. I've written about The Pipe metaphor on this blog before but I think this video gives a better introduction. Take a look and let me know what you think!

Interview on Facebook.

Here are some links you may want to check out as well:

Gofundme page for my conference expenses: www.gofundme.com/resource-developers-conference

The website for 3dm: 3dmovements.com

My blog of occasional posts over the last 10+ years: http://feralpastor.blogspot.com/

A Little Bit of Kingdom Come

People sometimes think that God *causes* bad things to happen in order to bring other good things out of it. Most of us, I think, have a problem with that as an "ends justify the means" kind of thing. But among Christians I think it gets currency from various directions.

• Some people read Romans 8:28 in that way, as if it said "we know that God is the cause of everything and no matter how awful it seems it's actually good because of the good that comes out of it."
• Our tendency to recite the Lord's Prayer as "Thy will be done, (hard stop) on Earth as it is in heaven" as opposed to "Thy will be done on Earth, as it is in heaven" plays into a kind of resignation in the face of tragedy rather than an appeal for God's *good* will to actually be realized on Earth.
• Plus, there's that sense that if God is "omnipotent" then it would seem that everything that does happen is ultimately because God wants it that way.
• The kicker is the story in John 9 where most translations literally say God caused a man to be born blind in order to heal him later. (I think Eugene Peterson gets it right in his The Message version.)

I don't buy any of that stuff, but it's out there and feeds into the notion that God works evil to obtain good and we just have to deal with it.

At any rate, what I do believe is that in every situation - regardless of how it came about - God is present and is an active force to bring good forward.

And here is a very beautiful and touching example of what that can look like.

The Message 100 - Book Review

I was very pleased to receive a copy of The Message 100 by Eugene Peterson for review a while back.  I'm happy to recommend it, first and foremost because The Message version itself is hugely beneficial for reading, and second because the new arrangement of the books of the Bible that you find in The Message 100 has some valuable features as well.

A quick word about the translation itself. I like to refer to Peterson's excellent work as a "rendering" of scripture. Though based on the original language manuscripts, Peterson allows more freedom in bringing it into English than one would use in a formal translation. His rendering is at least a paraphrase, and at times makes moves that I would have to call interpretations. But the vitality and vibrancy of his version is so helpful in "hearing" scripture that I am always enthusiastic to recommend it to people for general reading and as a companion for formal Bible study. Reading The Message has improved my "scholarly" understanding of scripture, but more importantly, helped the Lord shape my heart in wonderful ways.

This new version makes two significant changes in how a reading Bible is organized. First, it divides the text into 100 readings. That simple change gives you an encouragement to read the whole Bible (who doesn't want to get to 100?) while at the same time avoiding the problems associated with so many other "read through the Bible" plans which is simply this: failure. I don't know how many times have I gotten behind in some daily reading plan and faced the decision to either skip a batch of readings and "press reset" to (FAIL!) or binge-read as fast as possible in order to "catch up" (faking success = FAIL!)  The 100 version invites you to keep at it and take your time. It's a grace goal... one that comes with a finish line but without a deadline.  How cool is that?

The second change in the 100 version is more significant, and more subtle.  In many places, the books of the Bible have been re-ordered.

Finally, Acts follows Luke as the sequel it was written to be! But that's just the start...

Anyone who's ever tried to read the Bible "cover to cover" has run into the Kings-Chronicles issue. You work your way through 1st and 2nd Kings and then here comes 1st and 2nd Chronicles going back over the same territory you just finished. It's confusing and a bit frustrating to feel like you are "re-reading" all that stuff, even if you are aware of the significant differences between Kings and Chronicles.  Some reading plans deal with this by interweaving the two tellings, and that helps especially if you read the various Prophets along the same timeline as well. (Wayne Cordeiro does an excellent job of this in his Life Journal materials.) In The Message 100, Peterson leads you through Kings first, and then introduces Chronicles after you've gone through much of the prophetic literature and spent time in Exile with Daniel. That brings you to the point in the story when the Chronicles were written as a way to re-engage the people's history in a new situation. That one change actually gave me a new appreciation for the first eight, tedious, chapters of genealogy in Chronicles. (Actually, not so much a "new" appreciation as a "first ever" one.) After all they've been through and the ruin they brought on themselves as a people, the listing of ancestors up to the present survivors returning from exile has a way of saying "... and we are still here!  After all this, all these generations, we are still here!"  The placing of Chronicles helped me to catch that.

Another notable re-ordering is placing the Gospel of John in a final section along with the letters of John and Revelation. With the similarity of voice and vision in these books, it's intriguing to think about the way that reading them together will cast light on each of them.

I'm also intrigued by the decision to put Job in between Genesis and Exodus as part of the section on "Beginnings." No explanation is offered, but to me it helps to suggest a similarity in genre of the two books as something different from what we moderns think of as "history."  And I think it also works as a way of "setting the stage" for the story of Scripture as both Genesis and Job get us thinking about the challenge we face in the human condition.

Each of the 100 readings has an introduction written by Peterson.  They are very helpful in keeping you oriented towards what's going on and what the readings are pointing towards. Especially here in these introductions can you hear the voice of Peterson the pastor, and some of the material is even drawn from his sermons. Another great gift he offers us.

The one thing I wish for that's not in the book is some commentary on his decisions for re-ordering the books of the Bible. But aside from that it's another wonderful piece of work from a man who has made a great contribution to the faith and life of many people, myself included.

Is the Kingdom of God a Gated Community?

One of the Daily Texts verses today includes the statement “I have the keys of Death and of Hades.” (Revelation 1:18) It reminded me of something important about interpretation that I like to pass along when I get a chance, so I’m going to run down a rabbit hole here for a bit.

The little English word “of” can mean a LOT of different things and the reader/hearer is absolutely required to *interpret* the word and *choose* from different options. Most of us do that easily and subconsciously on the fly, so we’re not even aware that we’re interpreting.

For example: “house of sticks” means house *made* of sticks.

But “love of money” means love *directed towards* money.

And “love of your dog” means the love *felt by* your dog for you.

Except when it means the love *felt for* your dog by you.

Now, watch how this can have a huge impact on how you interpret.

In Matthew 16:19 Jesus refers to the “keys of the Kingdom. What does “of” mean there? The keys “to” the Kingdom? Could be. That would imply that the Kingdom is locked and you need the key to get in, though. Hmmm…

Or, it could mean the keys *belonging to* the Kingdom. That’s a whole ‘nother thing there. If you have these “Kingdom keys” what do you think you might be able to lock… or unlock? Might it be the “gates of Hades” that Jesus refers to in the previous verse?

“I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” Mt. 16:18b

You’ve got to admit… a gate isn’t likely to "prevail” against you if you have the key that can open it. 

Popular culture has latched onto the “pearly gates” image from Revelation 21:21 in a way that has even us thinking of heaven as a gated community. Seriously… a gated community!?!? If you don’t have a key yourself you better be on good terms with Saint Peter, right! After all he has the “keys *to* (?) the Kingdom” right?

Well, how about this instead. What if the only “gated community” that even exists is Hell/Hades/Death, and the *problem* is not “How can I possibly get *into* heaven when I’m locked out?” but rather, “How can I possibly get *out* of H/H/D when I’m locked IN?

Sit with that image for a minute, and then see how it feels to consider that the Kingdom keys have unlocked the gates and no one can ever be locked in again.

Pearly gates that are locked, or gates of Hades unlocked – which image resonates more powerfully with what you know as the message of Jesus?

It is, of course, a matter of interpretation. Gotta keep an eye on those great big theological words like “of.”

How Salvation Sounds in Lutheran Ears

The way that Lutherans tend to think of salvation is really nicely represented by the following passage from Ezekiel. Note how the activity of God has priority and primacy throughout, and obedience emerges at the initiative of the Spirit who has already been given. Even the awareness and regret over one's sinfulness shows up as an after-effect, rather than a prerequisite for the arrival of the Spirit and the gift of a new heart. (Gotta love the irony here: only a new heart is capable of regret over sin it seems.)

Ezekiel 36:24-31 NIV

24 “‘For I will take you out of the nations; I will gather you from all the countries and bring you back into your own land. 25 I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. 26 I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. 27 And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. 28 Then you will live in the land I gave your ancestors; you will be my people, and I will be your God. 29 I will save you from all your uncleanness. I will call for the grain and make it plentiful and will not bring famine upon you. 30 I will increase the fruit of the trees and the crops of the field, so that you will no longer suffer disgrace among the nations because of famine. 31 Then you will remember your evil ways and wicked deeds, and you will loathe yourselves for your sins and detestable practices.

Contradictory Theologies as a Guard Against Intellectual Idolatry.

I pursue a practice of daily devotions and journaling using the SOAP format, which I highly recommend.  Of late, I've begun posting photos of my journal entries as an easy way of sharing my life with others that are my travelling partners in the faith.  (Much easier than re-typing everything!)  So below is a photo of my entry for today.  It's a reminder that faith is about trusting a person, not confidence in a particular way of thinking about Him.

Baptism as a Binding of God - Metaphor from Adoption

Talking about baptism has a tendency to start fights among Christians, but I gave in to the urge to offer a key metaphor for me in a post on another blog so I thought I'd let folks here have a look too.

"Maybe the significance of baptism isn't in what it "does to" the baptized, but in what it "does to God." Perhaps baptism is a way God has empowered us to "bind God" to the person being baptized in a way that has eternal, spiritual significance.

For a metaphor, consider this. I traveled to Vietnam years ago, empowered by my wife to legally bind her (and me) to a child through my own signature on her behalf. Signing my name is a routine and frequently meaningless act, but in this context, it had huge, real and lasting significance for me, my wife and the child. (Her name is Amy.) In the same way, washing with water is usually not very meaningful, but in the context of baptism that act could have real significance.

The metaphor could be extended to address some of the other struggles around baptism. Suppose my wife and I had made a personal commitment to provide in every way possible for the welfare of the child *regardless of whether the formal adoption was allowed to go through.* Our ability to deliver everything our hearts desired to Amy might have been hindered if the formalities couldn't be enacted... (it wold have been pretty hard to get her out of the country and situated with American citizenship, for example!) Who knows, maybe we would have ended up finding it necessary to "move into the neighborhood" (See John 1:14 the Message) and become citizens of Vietnam in order to follow our hearts and care for the child we had *unilaterally* claimed as our own. When you use this metaphor as a lens, you can see nicely that the underlying commitment is the real thing, the main thing, but it's also helpful to have the formalities enacted since that 1) makes the commitment public to all and 2) makes it much easier for the blessings of the relationship to flow to the child."

Agitating the Lutherans (Again)

Here's a little inside baseball for my Lutheran readers. I've been pressing the house church conversation on some Facebook forums and thought I'd collect a couple of my posts here as well:

"Along with the anxieties over wandering away from theological orthodoxy, another panic point in the house church conversation among Lutherans is presiding at communion. ("Panic point" is a bit condescending... sorry about that. Couldn't resist the alliteration.) Case in point, Clint Schnekloth posted a comment about the "Babylonian Captivity" of the Eucharist expressed in our extreme avoidance of having non-ordained people preside, and it's elicited over 500 comments in just over 2 days. That's called touching a nerve."

"Our theology staunchly affirms that the validity of the sacrament is NOT dependent on who presides. Yet our practice consistently and powerfully contradicts, and IMO trumps our theology in the minds of laity and many clergy."

"The "good order" standard is a huge leverage point I think we need to lean on as much as possible. It's one of the greatest assets of Lutheranism, because it points us to the importance of pragmatism. When I look at the entirety of our congregational life - everything from these kinds of presiding questions to the huge investment in large group weekly worship - I just keep asking; just how good does anyone think our current "order" is??? Blessed as we are with hugely valuable insights in theology, our key temptation is to evaluate "goodness" solely based on theological concerns. Meanwhile, our practice for shaping lives that enflesh the richness of our theology is manifestly ineffective."

Theological Reflection part 3 - The Artist in Residence

(For part 2 go here.)

And what of James Holmes, the shooter?  Together with us, he is a member of the shattered creation and the broken human community.  Was his part of the sphere even more utterly shattered somehow from his birth… broken genes bearing sharper edges we now can see?  Were there things that happened to him in his life growing up or in recent months that shattered him as never before?  He had a mother and a father.  Was he a beautiful sphere on whom they gazed with delight before this day?  There was beauty in him: colors of the first creation.  A merit scholarship out of high school, honors on graduating from college.  I see the hues of a capable, creative mind.  Even in its shattered fragments, capable of careful planning for his attack and booby-trapping his apartment. 

Can anything good or beautiful ever be built out of the fragments of his life?  Perhaps.  John Newton shattered a host of lives working in the slave trade, yet even so, God managed to build out of this man the author of the hymn Amazing Grace.  Is this also possible for Holmes?  I confess, I believe it is possible, and I confess, I don’t believe it will happen.  Perhaps that’s part of my brokenness.  But I do believe that his jail cell is another place where God is present, bleeding, weeping, and now at work picking up the pieces.  I’m sad for both of them.  I think they will be there for a long, long time to come.

Theological Reflection part 2 - The Artist in Residence

(For part 1, go here.)

He knelt down
among the fragments to search out every shard
collecting them so carefully, yet even so
his hands were wounded further by the work.

And even more as he began to set them alongside each other,
creating again,
building beauty of the sorrow:
a lamp.

To stay involved in this broken creation and the lives of his human children comes with a cost for God.  Whatever suffering and pain he encountered in the “shattering” event, he adds to it in the course of keeping his hands on us and involved in our lives and our sharp-edged brokenness.  No clearer illustration of this is there than the wounds Jesus received in the course of his work to pick up, handle, and refashion the slicing, piercing shards of humanity he encountered in his life.  But the artist God is at work, not to put it all back together the way it was – that can never happen – but to build something new from the pieces.  The lamp image here is specific for me and calls to mind the Tiffany lamps, made with bits of colored glass, and although I didn’t make that explicit in the poem I hope the image does come through.  The phrase set them alongside each other is intended to nudge the reader’s mental imagery in that direction.

That phrase also has resonance for me in the details of the shooting event.  I heard stories of one person in the theatre, who had been wounded, throwing his body over a friend who had also been shot, into order to protect him.  I saw pictures of people holding and comforting others, with blood on one or both of them.  These are shattered fragments, set alongside each other.  This is beauty being created: the beauty of compassion, the beauty of self-sacrifice for the sake of others.

Through which a light would shine

revealing still the colors of the first creation
and the blood stains,
some dried and left in place
some washed away by tears.

I think of the town of Aurora as being like the gazing sphere.  It had a beauty and no doubt a sense of peace and security that was shattered in this event.  In its initial beauty I know that there were people of love and compassion and courage there.  These are the colors of their “first creation.”  In the shattering, some of those colors are actually now more prominent and easier to see – they have been put on display for the world to see as a light shines through them.  I’m thinking here of citizens and first responders who threw themselves into the situation, with all its horror and danger, to try and help.  I’m thinking of the bomb squad people, working still even as I write, the courage and skill that was in them yesterday now on bright display today.  Yet the same light that reveals the beauty of their character also shows us the blood of the victims.  The artist God, I think, intentionally leaves some of that blood dried and left in place to honor sacrifice and suffering by preserving them in memory.  Even the resurrected Jesus, remember, still had his scars.  But much of it is also washed away by the tears of the creator raining down from above as he goes about the work of building something new, something beautiful again.

Shattered goodness can be fashioned again into beauty.  I believe this is always what God is up to and the answer to the question “Where is God in my/our suffering?”  He is now most clearly, and most hidden, walking and kneeling among the people of Aurora, bleeding and weeping as he picks up the people and the pieces, already setting them alongside each other to make something beautiful in time.

Part 3.

Theological Reflection part 1 - The Artist in Residence

I hope that the poem can stand on its own, but for those who want to read it here is my own reflection on it in three parts.  The text of the poem is in bold italics.

The Artist in Residence: Aurora, Colorado, 2012

I’d heard the phrase “artist in residence” before and it felt important to lead with that.  To me it conveys that God is not one who comes and goes but who stays in the community, especially in the midst of hardship and tragedy when our pain makes God seem absent.  The overall witness of the Old Testament is of a God who stubbornly refuses to turn his back on his people and just walk away, no matter how they treat him.  One of the most beautiful metaphors in the New Testament, somewhat hidden in the English translations but clear in the Greek, is in John 1:14 where it says the Word (Jesus) became flesh and dwelt among us.  That “dwelt among us” phrase comes with the image of “pitched his tent.”  Remember that while for us, pitching a tent is a very temporary stop, in ancient days and among semi-nomadic people, it’s an image of permanently joining the family/community. 

The Artist worked in glass, and blew a glorious gazing sphere.

Luminescent, layered, rainbow swirls of every color.  The object of delight reflected his face, his eyes, his smile.

He held it close.  It sang to him.

Creation was good, beautiful, a “reflection” of the goodness and beauty of the Creator, yet apparently quite fragile.  The object of delight was not just a “thing” but in relationship with the Creator: it sings to him.

It shattered
in his hands.

This is the core.  Creation is broken, humans are broken.  Not just flawed or “imperfect,” not just cracked or in need of some glue or a band-aid, but in a real sense shattered beyond repair.  Those who have thought deeply about the human condition, or looked deeply into their own hearts, I believe, recognize this truth. 

Why did it shatter?  Did it “leap” from God’s hands?  Did God hold the fragile sphere too tightly or drop it?  Did someone else play a role, or was there a flaw in the design?  These questions are not addressed, but the fact that the questions exist is acknowledged in the poem: it shattered in his hands.

Shards of glass
flying
falling
cut deeply in his flesh.  He bled, he wept.

The depth of God’s love for and delight in creation is matched by the depth of his pain and suffering over it’s brokenness, and matched by the depth of his commitment to caring for and redeeming it.  Any insight you gain into the depth of God in one of those areas illumines for you the depths of the other two.

Part 2.

The Artist In Residence: Aurora, Colorado, 2012

The Artist worked in glass, and blew a glorious gazing sphere.

Luminescent, layered, rainbow swirls of every color.  The object of delight reflected his face, his eyes, his smile.

He held it close.  It sang to him.

It shattered
in his hands.

Shards of glass
flying
falling
cut deeply in his flesh.  He bled, he wept.

He knelt down
among the fragments to search out every shard
collecting them so carefully, yet even so
his hands were wounded further by the work.


And even more as he began to set them alongside each other, 
creating again, 
building beauty of the sorrow: 
a lamp.


Through which a light would shine
revealing still the colors of the first creation
and the blood stains,
some dried and left in place
some washed away by tears.

Theological Minimalism for Mission

At some point, I need to make a collection of My Favorite Metaphors.  Here's one that will surely make the list.

The Library

  When Lewis and Clark set off in 1804 to explore the Louisiana Purchase and seek out the Northwest Passage, I expect each of them had a sizeable library in their homes.  I envision whole rooms of wonderful books on Art, Literature, Science, Philosophy, History and so on; books that they valued highly, and yet chose not to take along.  For a settled life in Civilization, all those books were a great asset, but for a journey across the wilderness those same books would be a liability.  For mobility and exploration, it’s important to travel light.

  The “missional Church,” like those explorers, possesses a vast and wonderful library of theology, practices, liturgies, hymns, traditions, stories and so on.  For a settled Church in a civilized Christendom, that depth and breadth is a wonderful gift to enjoy.  But for a Church on the move into uncharted territories, the “library” is too much to carry.  The missional Church needs a field guide for this venture, a “Boy Scout Manual” that can fit in a back pocket.  The lighter it is, the less it will slow you down.  But it needs to cover the basics: food, shelter, safety, and navigation.  Thus the theme of minimalism.

Why I Believe

My friend Jonathan posted an interesting question on Facebook yesterday:

Curious: Christian? Why? Or... Non-Christian? Why? Would love to hear your answers. Don't try to convince anyone of anything. Not a debate. Just interested in YOUR response, your story, your heart.

I've though a bit about that over the years, and more so recently, so I wrote a reply which I thought I'd share here too:

Christian. To be quite frank about it, I am a believer because my parents raised me in belief. As Christof says in The Truman Show; "We accept the reality with which we are presented."

More to the point, though - why do I continue to believe? As I have looked at that, two reasons are the most influential.

First, I have an actual sense of the presence of an Other, that resonates with the God of the Bible as seen in the person of Jesus.

Second, the whole belief system that is grounded in my relationship to that Other is something that I find comforting, inspiring, intellectually and emotionally compelling, and integral to my sense of living a life that has meaning.

I guess that's the short answer. ;)

As Jonathan, I'm also curious to hear from others. Why do you believe what you believe?

The Magic Purse

So, shameless sell-promotion is okay when you're not selling anything, right? I mean, what's a blog for?

I wrote a short story a while back called The Magic Purse. It's a little fable about scarcity and abundance. Over the years a number of people have downloaded it from a collection of stewardship resources hosted by Luther Seminary and told me that it was helpful to them in their congregations. Cool!

For the last couple of weeks I've been having some more fun with it at my current church. I've used it as the basis for a contest for kids, inviting them to write alternate endings and to create illustrations. It's been fun to see their work! I've created a little website in support of that where you can read the story and the alternate endings and see the illustrations. So if that's intriguing to you, or you're looking for a stewardship resource to use in a creative way, check it out. I think you'll like it.