I read an excerpt from Elton Trueblood's "The New Man for Our Time" that I'd like to share. It's lengthy, but well worth the read. He writes:
"When we begin to ask what the conditions of inner renewal are, we receive essentially the same answers from nearly all of those whom we have most reason to respect....In the conduct of one's own life, it is soon obvious, as many have learned the hard way, that empty freedom is a snare and a delusion. In following what comes naturally or easily, life simply ends in confusion, and in consequent disaster. Without the discipline of time, we spoil the next day the night before, and without the discipline of prayer, we are likely to end by having practically no experience of the divine-human encounter....We have not advanced very far in our spiritual lives if we have not encountered the basic paradox of freedom, to the effect that we are most free when we are bound. But not just any way of being bound will suffice; what matters is the character of our binding..."
All of the early church fathers saw themselves as "slaves" of Christ. That word repulses us in our modern culture, but not just for the terrible history of our country, but because it challenges the foundation of our American values - freedom and independence. Yet, if what Trueblood says is indeed true, freedom is not free - at least, not in its fullest form. Full freedom comes from being bound to the right things (or as a Christian, I would say the right person), and from being bound in the right way.
Trueblood also makes a statement with which I don't completely agree. He says, "However compassionate we may be with others, we dare not be soft or indulgent with ourselves." What is ironic about this statement, is that we can not be compassionate towards ourselves without the discipline of prayer that he speaks of earlier. I am usually hardest on myself, even when I am compassionate towards others.
Currently, I am in a season of seeking more joy as a Christian. I have this nasty habit of turning my relationship with Jesus into a duty that is joyless and depressing - perhaps it comes with being a professional Christian. But God keeps inviting me to delight in Him, as He delights in me (Psalm 37:4, Zephaniah 3:17). If I don't make time to do this, I fall back on duty and eventually fall back into depression.
But this pursuit of joy is not without suffering, or sadness. I love the new Pixar film, "Inside Out" because it poignantly emphasizes that true joy is not without sadness. Without embracing the places of sadness and disappointment in our lives, we can no longer access joy. My invitation to find joy in my Jesus, is in actuality an invitation to bring him all of my emotions, and rest in the security that He is in control in all circumstances. This kind of slavery is not the denouncement of everything we value as human - it is the ultimate fulfillment of what it means to be human, and where we find our deepest satisfaction.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Monday, April 15, 2013
Relating to My Soul
This idea of "the sanctuary of [my] soul" offers me a new way of looking at prayer and relating to myself in prayer. In fact, I had a vision of this sanctuary while I was praying earlier. The drawing (above) is a quick, simple sketch of that vision and what follows is a short description:
Three chairs - one for Jesus, one for me, and one for my soul. I see my soul as a child at this stage - almost like my 8-year old son, but an 8-year old version of me. The three of us sit in comfortable chairs facing one another in a four-walled gazebo made of glass. There is a large cross etched onto each wall of the glass so that it's height is almost the height of the wall and it's width is almost the width of the wall. The gazebo sits on an elevated surface surrounded by nature - rolling green hills, a stream, trees of various sorts, and the sun in the morning sky, warm but not hot, shining its light through the crosses down upon us. We sit and talk, the three of us, mostly Jesus and I, and we each relate to my soul in different ways. Jesus is always loving, instructing, even feeding my soul. I am irresponsible most of the time in how I relate to my soul, occasionally making time to rest and listen to my soul and read to it. I am abusive at the worst of times, being harsh in my words, exposing my soul to horrible images, and mostly neglecting my soul and his needs.
Suddenly, I am horrified by this reality - that I treat my soul in such a way and I am convicted of my sin. I turn and ask Jesus to heal my soul because of the damage I have done. As Jesus lays his hands upon my soul, and brings healing, I then ask my soul for forgiveness. I ask Jesus to forgive me and I ask my soul to forgive me. Jesus does, of course, responding to me immediately. But my soul takes time to forgive me, not understanding what I have done, and experiencing the pain of my sin against him. Eventually, as Jesus' healing permeates my soul, he offers me forgiveness. Then there is joy, and a renewed innocence, and a heightened sense of responsibility that it is not only Jesus who is to care for my soul, but also me.
This way of looking at prayer, and my life of holiness is new for me, but profound. If I were able to regularly see my soul, like I see my 8-year old son every day, I might be more careful about what I watch, and what I read. I might take more time to rest, and listen to my soul, as I do my son when he comes home from school. I might find the inner motivation to invest in my soul, like I try to invest in my son's life through prayer and discipleship. I might actually have fun pursuing a life of holiness. Imagine that.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Shaping Our Desires to Truth
I am a bit behind on my commitment. If anyone was expecting an earlier post, I apologize. I know this habit will be good for me, but I am still forming the habit and thus ask for grace.
This afternoon I read Os Guinness' essay titled "Time for Truth" (taken from IVP's "A Place for Truth"). While many of the arguments for the necessity of truth were striking, the one that hit me hardest was the example of Pablo Picasso. You see, my wife and I had only just recently watched the movie "The Mystery of Picasso," in which the artist paints on film for all of time to record, but then destroys the paintings after the filming has been completed. I didn't understand this move at first. Why would someone destroy their art? Why would someone want to simply showcase their process on film, but then get rid of the results? It struck me at the time as possibly narcissistic - action driven by the ego of the artist.
But then Guinness used Picasso as an example of the ability of someone to manipulate others in the absence of truth. Apparently Picasso's friend Alberto Giacometti called him "a monster" because of the way he devoured people, especially women. Picasso called himself "the Minotaur," in reference to the mythological beast who devoured young maidens. When Picasso died, three of those close to him committed suicide, unable to live without this dominating personality (Guinness, 47). Suddenly, the "generosity" of the artist in showcasing his process on film takes on a different light. Perhaps the artist and his ego is simply seeking to manipulate the audience - to take them on a journey and then hurt them with the knowledge that what he created, he can also destroy. Now his generosity appears selfish and self-serving in the end.
Now I do not know Picasso's motives in filming "The Mystery of Picasso." No one does. But how could such a brilliant artist lead such a destructive life? How could so much evil coincide with so much intelligence and beauty? I write about this mostly because it troubles me so, but also because such men are exalted in academia for their talents, and yet their character is dismissed as inconsequential. If we asked the people who were affected by Picasso's behavior, however, they would not treat his character defects so lightly. Which legacy really matters - the one of the artist, who's paintings are priced so exorbitantly high - or the man, who treated women as objects to be used for his own personal gratification? We are so willing to overlook character in the midst of great accomplishments, but to what end? As Guinness puts it, it is only in the face of real evil, or real need, that we recognize the "signals of transcendence" pointing us to the higher ground of truth (51-52).
For now, I am challenged to find new words for what I believe and why I believe it. I have fallen into line with so many others in proclaiming the benefits of Christianity to the world - based on my personal experience (subjectivism), or that it works for me (pragmatism). Yet Guinness points out that Christianity is not "true because it works, it works because it's true." The fear of claiming the truth is being revealed to me by these statements. Will I stand by Jesus as the source of truth? Will I direct seekers of truth to find their answers in Him alone? The more I am influenced by the University, the more I find myself noncommittal. Sure it's fine for me, but others? I need a greater love for the truth, and a greater love for others to share that truth with them as the truth. And to remember that it doesn't stop the conversation, but really gets it going.
This afternoon I read Os Guinness' essay titled "Time for Truth" (taken from IVP's "A Place for Truth"). While many of the arguments for the necessity of truth were striking, the one that hit me hardest was the example of Pablo Picasso. You see, my wife and I had only just recently watched the movie "The Mystery of Picasso," in which the artist paints on film for all of time to record, but then destroys the paintings after the filming has been completed. I didn't understand this move at first. Why would someone destroy their art? Why would someone want to simply showcase their process on film, but then get rid of the results? It struck me at the time as possibly narcissistic - action driven by the ego of the artist.
But then Guinness used Picasso as an example of the ability of someone to manipulate others in the absence of truth. Apparently Picasso's friend Alberto Giacometti called him "a monster" because of the way he devoured people, especially women. Picasso called himself "the Minotaur," in reference to the mythological beast who devoured young maidens. When Picasso died, three of those close to him committed suicide, unable to live without this dominating personality (Guinness, 47). Suddenly, the "generosity" of the artist in showcasing his process on film takes on a different light. Perhaps the artist and his ego is simply seeking to manipulate the audience - to take them on a journey and then hurt them with the knowledge that what he created, he can also destroy. Now his generosity appears selfish and self-serving in the end.
Now I do not know Picasso's motives in filming "The Mystery of Picasso." No one does. But how could such a brilliant artist lead such a destructive life? How could so much evil coincide with so much intelligence and beauty? I write about this mostly because it troubles me so, but also because such men are exalted in academia for their talents, and yet their character is dismissed as inconsequential. If we asked the people who were affected by Picasso's behavior, however, they would not treat his character defects so lightly. Which legacy really matters - the one of the artist, who's paintings are priced so exorbitantly high - or the man, who treated women as objects to be used for his own personal gratification? We are so willing to overlook character in the midst of great accomplishments, but to what end? As Guinness puts it, it is only in the face of real evil, or real need, that we recognize the "signals of transcendence" pointing us to the higher ground of truth (51-52).
For now, I am challenged to find new words for what I believe and why I believe it. I have fallen into line with so many others in proclaiming the benefits of Christianity to the world - based on my personal experience (subjectivism), or that it works for me (pragmatism). Yet Guinness points out that Christianity is not "true because it works, it works because it's true." The fear of claiming the truth is being revealed to me by these statements. Will I stand by Jesus as the source of truth? Will I direct seekers of truth to find their answers in Him alone? The more I am influenced by the University, the more I find myself noncommittal. Sure it's fine for me, but others? I need a greater love for the truth, and a greater love for others to share that truth with them as the truth. And to remember that it doesn't stop the conversation, but really gets it going.
Friday, May 27, 2011
In Pursuit of Truth
Today I commit to writing here once each week, as a means of holding myself accountability to my own development as a Christian intellectual. Now the problem is that I don't see myself as an intellectual at all, and yet I find the Lord leading me into a ministry among intellectuals. This is going to be interesting. But here I will reflect on some reading (which I also hope to do weekly) and try to do some thinking for myself, and engage anyone who cares to spend their valuable time considering my words at all.
I promise to no longer be reserved in my writing. Too often I am guarded to the point of being unwilling to write anything for fear of its permanence. I recognize that this blog is part of a process of my own development, so I invite you to develop here with me.
Today I reflect on Richard Neuhaus' address to the Yale Veritas Forum in 1996, entitled "Is There Life After Truth?" He writes, "The Christian understanding is that truth is found only in following...We do not need to see the distant destination, we need to know only the company. We need to know only the One who travels with us, who says, 'I am the way, the truth, and the life. And wherever the honest quest for truth is going to take you, it's going to take you to where I am.'" (p. 25, IVP's A Place For Truth, ed. by Dallas Willard). Here, truth is relational but not relative. It is absolute, but mysterious. Truth is a person, and his name is Jesus. Neuhaus' words bring greater insight to me as I have been trying to wrap my head around John 1:14, "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us." The Word is logos in the Greek - engaging both Jewish worldview and Greek philosophy. On the philosophical end, how do we understand "Logic" - as logos is literally translated - to be embodied in the person of Jesus? Somehow, our love for logic and truth is satisfied in the person of Jesus.
Now Neuhaus is challenging the overarching view of the academy that the notion of truth itself is obsolete. He argues that of course it's not, and that the pursuit of truth will actually be much more interesting than operating as if there is no truth. But he raises the excellent point that this view is in large part reactive to the conflict that has resulted in history (in large part) as a result of Christians claiming to know the truth. The problem here is not with truth itself, but with the pride of those who claim to know the truth. He writes that the call on Christian intellectuals is "to demonstrate that we...have understood how Christians claiming to possess the truth can indeed be destructive of public discourse. Christians who are overwhelmingly confident that they actually possess the truth in the sense of being in control of the truth can become the enemies of civil discourse. ....It is a matter of religious obligation for us to be not simply tolerant of those with whom we disagree but to eagerly engage them, for that's the course of love." It is also the course of humility, and the way of the One who claims to be Truth.
So we have a challenge before us - the claim to know the Truth and yet understand that we can never be in control of the Truth. And the more we simply pursue Him who is Truth - the more we simply follow Jesus - the more we realize how little control we really have.
I promise to no longer be reserved in my writing. Too often I am guarded to the point of being unwilling to write anything for fear of its permanence. I recognize that this blog is part of a process of my own development, so I invite you to develop here with me.
Today I reflect on Richard Neuhaus' address to the Yale Veritas Forum in 1996, entitled "Is There Life After Truth?" He writes, "The Christian understanding is that truth is found only in following...We do not need to see the distant destination, we need to know only the company. We need to know only the One who travels with us, who says, 'I am the way, the truth, and the life. And wherever the honest quest for truth is going to take you, it's going to take you to where I am.'" (p. 25, IVP's A Place For Truth, ed. by Dallas Willard). Here, truth is relational but not relative. It is absolute, but mysterious. Truth is a person, and his name is Jesus. Neuhaus' words bring greater insight to me as I have been trying to wrap my head around John 1:14, "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us." The Word is logos in the Greek - engaging both Jewish worldview and Greek philosophy. On the philosophical end, how do we understand "Logic" - as logos is literally translated - to be embodied in the person of Jesus? Somehow, our love for logic and truth is satisfied in the person of Jesus.
Now Neuhaus is challenging the overarching view of the academy that the notion of truth itself is obsolete. He argues that of course it's not, and that the pursuit of truth will actually be much more interesting than operating as if there is no truth. But he raises the excellent point that this view is in large part reactive to the conflict that has resulted in history (in large part) as a result of Christians claiming to know the truth. The problem here is not with truth itself, but with the pride of those who claim to know the truth. He writes that the call on Christian intellectuals is "to demonstrate that we...have understood how Christians claiming to possess the truth can indeed be destructive of public discourse. Christians who are overwhelmingly confident that they actually possess the truth in the sense of being in control of the truth can become the enemies of civil discourse. ....It is a matter of religious obligation for us to be not simply tolerant of those with whom we disagree but to eagerly engage them, for that's the course of love." It is also the course of humility, and the way of the One who claims to be Truth.
So we have a challenge before us - the claim to know the Truth and yet understand that we can never be in control of the Truth. And the more we simply pursue Him who is Truth - the more we simply follow Jesus - the more we realize how little control we really have.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Adventures in Canada
I raked leaves for the first time in YEARS last weekend. I've been staying with some friends in Canada and the leaves are in full color and falling. It reminded me so much of when I was young living in Michigan. I don't remember much of those years, but I do remember they were full of adventure. I spent hours running around with my brother outdoors, loving to explore nature and pretending to have all sorts of adventures.
At some point, though, I lost that adventurous spirit. I got scared along the way, and life became hard verses challenging. Lately I've felt a desire to reclaim that sense of adventure. I don't want to be so focused on the difficulties of life that I relinquish the challenges. I have kids now and they LOVE the outdoors. They are ready for the next big adventure. I don't want to be the one who kills the spark in them.
My wife keeps telling me that she sees so much of me in our son, but I have trouble seeing it. He's such a little leader, ready to explore the next hill or tree. "Come on guys," he'll say, and lead us to the next adventure. I'm excited to have a second chance to embrace life's challenges with my kids, full of risk and danger, but full of life.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
An Attempt to Stay Connected
These feet belong to my beautiful one-year old daughter. She is an amazing gift, along with our three-year old son, but my idealism is coming into major conflict these days with the reality of parenting young children.I kind-of, sort-of thought parenting would be this utopia of family life where enough love made for a world of laughter and joy. Well love gets tested between tantrums, teething, and total chaos in our cozy little home. For a guy who tends to like things a bit cleaner, a bit more orderly, this is not utopia.
But the hardest part, to be honest, is the sense of isolation we feel as we work our hardest to provide a stable environment for our kids. Much of what we've read about parenting is that you need to know your child, and respond to his/her cues, especially noting when they're tired or overstimulated. As a result, we've tried to emphasize regular naps at home, which leaves us confined to the house for the better part of the day. Our social life has gone down the drain, and it's challenging enough for both of us to get to church at times. Are we doing something wrong? Or is this just a phase of life? Maybe as I write this it's partly a cry for help for someone out in cyberspace to sympathize with us in this crazy time of life. We would love to make more time for our friends (you know who you are), but find the days go so quickly, and the years from there on. I'm trying to stay connected, to God, my wife, my friends, and even myself. Journaling is definitely a helpful start, but if you care to respond, I'd love it.
I ask for more of God's Spirit, more peace, and for guidance to the places of connection I need for my soul's health.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Life with 1 John
We leave for Catalina (see picture below) tomorrow and I've been prepping 1 John, the text we will study as a group out on the island. I have been awestruck by John's (or whoever the author of 1 John was) view of sin and obedience as I've studied the text. He reminds us that as believers, sin is not in keeping with our identities as children of God. Though we have a beautiful solution for sin through confession and forgiveness, we are not meant to sin. It is just not appropriate for us as children of God. Personally this truth has empowered me to view temptation and my own will power in a whole new way. Sometimes I don't think I take my ability to choose life - versus the death that comes with sin - that seriously and I give in to temptation without a fight. John's exhortation inspires me to live as I am meant to live - like Jesus!
I pray I would know who I really am this week, and that I would be encouraged to walk in that true identity. May my friends be changed and transformed by the power that comes from truth intersecting with our heart's desires. May Jesus bring freedom and new life to many.
I pray I would know who I really am this week, and that I would be encouraged to walk in that true identity. May my friends be changed and transformed by the power that comes from truth intersecting with our heart's desires. May Jesus bring freedom and new life to many.
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