There is No One Like You (Adv, Days 23/24; HelloGoodBye 09/10) [REPOST]
“I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer.”
–I Timothy 2.8, NIV
There are these days, when it is so difficult to find words that wrap around concepts, that, no matter how concrete in one’s mind, find it impossible to find substance in the barrier we use to communicate called language. In those moments, it seems that experience does precede existence and existentialism, for a moment, seems fun (and fun is clearly the wrong word, but for to-day, for this beautiful-day-before-Advent, will have to do).
Mr. Crowder crowed through the speakers “There is nooooo-one like You…” and in the seconds that followed slivers of eternity slipped through the wall of sound. The elders bowed, the beasts bellowed and the saints sang in holy adoration “Holy, Holy, Holy…”
Hope leaks into life in the most unexpected ways, ways that we’d never ask for, but cannot do without. We’d never ask for them because they hurt oh-so-badly; we cannot do without them because they are the pearls of great price, treasures to be cherished.
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I’ve been more intentional about writing lately (and the reason for that is coming…). The past two-and-a-half years have been epic, at the very least. The genesis of the journey was in March of O-Six, high-lighted by a late-night {spiritual} beat-down in July {thank you, Mark Driscoll}, and punctuated with new life that October. Two months later, on a frigid Friday in December, Pittsburgh was finally in view. Six apartments, three cities, and 80,000 miles on the Interstate later I landed just where I jumped from. I didn’t expect it, honestly, to be back here so soon, if ever…
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“Lord . . .”
artwork and article by Michael Meulstee (click for larger image)
I sit down to write as a way to reflect. At this very moment in my life when there is no other thing to be certain about besides your provision and grace I cling to that and I pray that my sin will not cause me to mishear what you’re doing to shape and mold me into something better than myself.
I feel a sense of Déjà vu; this time last year when I needed your help, your wisdom, more than anything I needed your comfort; you came through in only ways that you can. You took my lack of trust, my discomfort, my fear and blew it away. Took it away and returned with trust that all the promises I made in those prayers; in those talks where I talked at you rather than talked with you… you trusted me, you trusted I would keep my word. You trusted that all of those fearful, manipulative and selfish things that I said would ultimately be used for your good. I said and promised so many things; if you would just come through for me on this one thing… if you just helped me once more I would be a better believer; I would read more; I would pray more; witness more; serve more; do. more.
Decision-Making Non-Answers
“To seminary, or not to seminary?” That’s the question for our newest Contributor, Katie Olmstead, as she navigates the ambiguities and nuances of that most frustrating of mysteries: the Will of God.
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Last February, the decision was made. Everything would change come August. I would leave my home in Phoenix for Philadelphia; continue to work for Food for the Hungry part-time remotely while going back to school. My cross-country road trip was charted, housing scouted out, mental shift made and farewell gifts purchased. I was ready for the adventure of a new city, new friends, classes, books, changing seasons, green and rain (so not the desert), wealth of history and arts to explore, another step towards my long-term dream….blah, blah, blah.
It is now October, the decision deferred for Spring maybe Fall. All my plans were unexpectedly postponed (or maybe canceled, ugh). Although convinced it was the right conclusion in light of changed circumstances, I am still filled with disappointment, anxiety and confusion; faced again with the decision of what is next. I catch myself daydreaming about avoiding it completely: driving my Rabbit, jumping on a plane or catching a train until I’ve explored every new interesting place and escaped this suffocating suburbia. Yet adventures offer no solution and I wake up to reality, decisions still far from clear. (more…)
The Infinite Beauty of Beauty
A nine-month old brain child concerning Beauty and many of its components is finally done being birthed on a blog. Come see…
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In about January of this past year, I received word that seven months from then, in August, I would be giving a message at Epiphany Fellowship on the topic of Beauty, of all things. This terrified me and I immediately began listening to every lecture, reading every article, and checking out every book in the library on the topic to prepare. Then I began working on the manuscript for this message. By the time I finished, I had produced a 43-page manuscript for a 40-minute message. The message answers several questions: Why we long for Beauty? What is Beauty? What Things are Beautiful? and How do we respond to Beauty?
The message went really well, but of course, a lot was cut out of the full manuscript for the sake of time. For that reason, a couple of months ago, I started a series on my blog that went through the various sections of the manuscript in bite-sized chunks, so that others could read it. Well, yesterday, three months after the original message was given, I finished that series on my personal blog and I wanted to plug it to the readers of this site. Below, you’ll find a complete directory of the fourteen parts of the series, along with links to the full audio and original manuscript that the message was based upon. I hope this is helpful and edifying to all of you. Be sure to send feedback, as I hope to build this out even more in the future, perhaps into a book-length project. We’ll see. Enjoy.
bright as yellow
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Time has had its way with me, my broken, tired hands can’t build a thing…
Coffee’s a murdering bitch, you know? It started with the arrhythmias, sometime in Oh-Three. They were added frustration on top of everything else: photo-synthesis, the commute, the roommate. Only she was my safe haven. Nothing more.
The idol of my days has won, the empty I have fed has made me numb…
It got worse sometime in the spring. A resting heart-rate under fifty is beautiful but not, when because, the ventricular muscle is shutting itself off every ten seconds. Thirty beats, maybe. Death was imminent one of these nights. You knew it. Falling asleep was hard and staying there even worse. Three hours a night was a good sleep. The contractions knifed from pectoral to shoulder-blade. Shallow breaths and bad dreams. Would I see her one more time before I was snuffed out and cast to Hades?
She was no Saviour — no matter how much you wanted her to be.
Save the nights your hollow dreams revealed the sweet release of death…
A scant twenty hours ago this idol was threatened. Despair sweeps in, rustling restlessness from its slumber while six-dollar nicotine bathes your grey lungs at eighty-five-miles-per-hour. The interstate is clear and the wash of sleep still seems so far away. To-morrow is ruined. Who cares about to-morow – what about to-night? Will it ever expire?
In the emptiness of broken flesh, the mercy of the thorns…
Along the river. Finally. This is where you wanted to be from the get-go. It only took ninety minutes of frantic free-way driving to find a place only a mile from home, if that. One more smoke while you let Him have it. Trust is your flaw; at least with this man-made god. It becomes so weak that the vapid space in your chest now desires to cease its rhythmic ticking. The near fatal flaw of six years ago would be a welcome addition right about now. The cherry draws near and you’re out of words. Soon there will be peace and welcome sleep.
WTFWJD? | (on Christian cursing)
"Andrew Murray" by Amy Roberts
More Christians of prominence are being “accused” of profanity from the pulpit. How do Christians navigate the increasingly clouding waters of holiness in speech?
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[NOTE: no curse words are used in this article other than some mild "profanity" used in pastor Ed Young's linked video and in one of the linked movie clips]
UPDATE 9/11/09: Patrol Magazine has just posted a great editorial on this topic that I cannot recommend highly enough.
This is a tough topic to write about. I don’t know that I can beat Jon Acuff’s article on Stuff Christians Like, or cause as much of a flurry as pastor Ed Young, but I would like to lend my thoughts to the discussion. By the way, before we start, in the interest of full disclosure: I curse. In fact, probably more than most Christians.
First and foremost: God does call us to purity. To holiness. To right living. Sin should not abound because grace is abundant. Christians are supposed to be pure in contrast to the ways the rest of the world is dark. We are called to look different than “non-Christians” in affection, thought, conduct, and speech and I have definitely failed much in this respect. Words are very powerful. They can bring communities together or tear them apart. This is what Colossians 3:8 is talking about. Paul mentions several things that can hurt others in a relational sense and his final thing is “obscene talk”. Coarse, filthy, and inappropriate statements about others can infect an entire group as much as anger, gossip, or slander, whether or not they use “bad” words. Speech is a precious gift God has given to us and it should be used to His glory and His honor. But, what in humans glorifies him the most? As broken, weak sinners, what is it that God calls us to over and over and over again?
Unlimited Limited Atonement? | (a discussion)
art by Patrick Benbow
A new articulation of an old idea: a Facebook exchange on the single most controversial tenet of traditional Calvinism.
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This was a facebook message/discussion between a few friends and me on the topic of “Limited Atonement” (the “L” in Calvinism’s acronomical existence). I’m thinking about letting this be the first of a new type of article I’m calling “Orthodoxological”. I’m thinking about trying to write some articles on some of the deepest and seemingly arbitrary and useless doctrines of the Christian faith, and showing how they do in fact necessarily lead to a greater worship of God. Let me know what you think!
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Stephen Hess on GoingToSeminary.com
by Reform & Revive
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One of our Guest Writers, Stephen Hess, recently wrote about his journey to seminary on the wonderful website, GoingToSeminary.com. Stephen is about to start his first year (of four) at Covenant Theological Seminary. Here’s the article:
“God-honoring Reluctance” – GoingToSeminary.com
We at Reform & Revive want to congratulate Stephen and wish him the best on the years to come. Hopefully we’ll see some more of him on the site.
red as crimson, yet . . .
painting by Sarah Stevens
How a winter ride home from church taught me more about the Gospel than the service itself.
by Stephen Hess
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I was raised in a nominally Catholic family. By nominally, I mean that church was seen as an obligation, that somehow going to church meant you were a moral person. We would dutiful attend mass on Sunday mornings or occasionally Saturday nights, but an actual faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior was absent and frankly inconsequential the other six days of the week. I left college and experienced the reality of my own sin and received the free gift of saving grace through Jesus Christ’s death on the cross. But when I am back in Rhode Island over holiday breaks, I attend mass with my parents, setting aside the banner of my reformed theological views in order to spend time with them.
As I was in the passenger seat of my mom’s car on our way to the 5pm Christmas mass at St. Mary’s Church in Newport, Rhode Island, my eyes were fixed upon the cold landscape. For the very first time, it occurred to me that the look of the snow in New England was the perfect metaphor for the depraved state of the world that the second person of the Trinity entered into in the form of a helpless and vulnerable infant. When the snow first falls, it is absolutely picturesque. The pure, clean, white snow covering everything remains one of the most breathtaking and beautiful images that I have seen first-hand. But the purity of the winter snow is fleeting. Driving, just a few days after the first snow falls, one does not glance out onto pristine snow, but blackened, dirt-filled slush lining the roads–a product of cars and SUVs travelling up and down those very roads.
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death and titans/death and taxes (an ode to zwan and crassness)
Everything just feels like rain…
There are these days, the cold and lonely April days (this reminds me of oh-seven) when a cigarette would be really nice. Had I not been so close to one hundred days, I surely would have smoked it. Maybe even a pack; all at once. Or one after the other. Seven minutes a piece. Done in one hundred and forty minutes.
That’s a lot of smoking. I coffee’d instead. (Prince, Bucks, Coffee Co – the girl there was cute. She liked my Bible.)
Lars loves Schrott crassness; it is no secret that none of us have tact.
There are days when you just wanna say it. They’re that shitty. But it’s always been true that when things go low, redemption is at hand and Christ is made sweet(er) than before. It is difficult to see though the fog that is now and it becomes suffocating. Time slows its high paced rhythm and seconds drag like months.
Tick. Tock. Tick…
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Praying for Discipline, Standing on Grace [Praying for Prayer; Pt. II]
Previously, we covered: The Conception of a Disciple, The Miracle of Birth, and Changing the Diapers. Now the conclusion-
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Razing Cain
Mortification of the flesh which we war against is the constant goal in the process of sanctification. We must always be seeking to raze, or burn our sin to dust in the hopes that Christ will be revealed in us. As I sought to pray and to seek God in a new way, this was my chief goal. With the Liturgy of prayer before me, I had a powerful tool against the devices of the evil one.
With this in mind, I bowed before the throne of the Sovereign LORD and, with the aid of my Advocate, I spoke boldly. I began with an Invocation, asking the Lord to meet with me. I believed that He would meet with me, yet I could not assume anything; I didn’t want to.
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Praying for Discipline, Standing on Grace [Praying for Prayer; Pt. I]
In a two-part series, Austin Rickett’s explores the depths of prayer: it’s difficulty, discipline, and delight.
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The Conception of a Discipline
When I first decided to attempt a spiritual discipline, I thought that I would do something with worship. I was going to try to see God wherever I could. Maybe I would notice His handiwork in the sunset of the day. Perhaps His provision in my life would be evident in the cheeseburger I was eating at the time. Possibly God was allowing me to relax with the advent of an overcast and drizzly day, which often instills a somber mood within me.
As I set out to begin this experiment, I was joyfully hindered. It seemed as though the Lord was saying, “Find something new, you already practice this discipline quite often.” And so, I decided to take God’s advice because I hear that He’s omniscient, therefore He probably knows what He’s talking about. Without much hesitation I moved on to something new.
(more…)
A Moment
[A Gilead-inspired short prose piece]
Today you awoke, and it was finally Autumn. Actually, it’s not that today is the first day of the Fall, but it’s the first day that you realized it. There you were at the Railway Station, surveying the huddled masses, nervously tapping each of your pockets. You were assuring yourself that all was in its right place. Then, the whistle. The train is coming.
The breeze picks up as the train nears, fronted by a Zephyr-like standard bearer. The gust begins to tug at your skirt, but your legs aren’t cold. The wooden platform rumbles, feeling like the deck of a ship at high seas as it moves with the coming cavalcade.
The Engineer is visible. There is the steam. The Engineer is invisible. The whistle, the whistle, three times the whistle blows. Smack!
Your book fell. You recover it from the linoleum floor. And what is that screaming noise? You look up. It is the birth pangs of tea, steaming and salient on your stove. You throw the blanket off of your legs, and onto the arm rest of your chair.
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There is No One Like You (Adv, Days 23/24; HelloGoodBye 08/09)
“I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer.”
–I Timothy 2.8, NIV
There are these days, when it is so difficult to find words that wrap around concepts, that, no matter how concrete in one’s mind, find it impossible to find substance in the barrier we use to communicate called language. In those moments, it seems that experience does precede existence and existentialism, for a moment, seems fun (and fun is clearly the wrong word, but for to-day, for this beautiful-day-before-Advent, will have to do).
Mr. Crowder crowed through the speakers “There is nooooo-one like You…” and in the seconds that followed slivers of eternity slipped through the wall of sound. The elders bowed, the beasts bellowed and the saints sang in holy adoration “Holy, Holy, Holy…”
(more…)
praise christ for pudendal neuralgia (advent, day 9)
The world just screams and falls apart
–Jeff Magnum, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, 1998
Thank you God for food. I love to gorge myself on it.
Thank you God for friends. I love to slander them behind their backs.
Thank you God for family. I love to use them for too many things to count.
Thank you God for my bed. I love to sleep when there are more productive things to be done.
Thank you God for money. Can’t forget money. I love money. What would I do without money? I couldn’t buy shit I don’t need without money.
So many generic Thank Yous we offer up. And, while these are not horrible things to be thankful for, though perhaps our reasons for loving them so much are. Rather, these are wonderful things to be thankful for (well except for maybe an abundance of money – unless we are giving it away – but we’re probably not because if we were really thankful for it, it would be our top priority to see others enjoy the very same blessings we have been gifted), but there seems to be a disconnect in our weak minds. When do we praise Christ for the miserable things in life? After all, these are the things that will draw us near him. These are the truly valuable things — the priceless things.
When disaster strikes, the cry of “Where was God?!” self-righteously rings out among the masses – as if we feel we have some hold on how God should behave. Nevermind the countless circumstances that have gone our way as we smugly think to ourselves that we somehow had something to do with it (when, in most/all cases, we did not). We will take all the credit when things go our way and we will defame the name of the One who spoke us into being when major (or even minor) tragedy strikes. The injustices we strike on our fellow man on a daily basis are ignored as insignificant, at least until we are the one who we feel has been treated unjustly.
Let us plead for the mercy to praise the One from whom all blessings flow, for, in reality, our blessings are most often the very things we count as our miseries, not the other way around.
eleven months, one day and a thorn in the flesh (volume one)
To-day, we marvel at the wonder of the overcast day. Blankets of grey clouds fill the sky and through them rains down soft, beautiful, and perfect light. Thank you dear Sun for hiding your face and until Spring, let it remain anathema.
To-day, we also marvel at the wonder of the India Blend at Prince St Cafe, the barely 2 year old coffee shop on the the corner of Prince and King Streets, across from the Opera House and parallel to the Market House. While we’ve definitely had better coffee in the past (as long ago as 2004 that made its way from State College to Philadelphia while inducing sleepless nights and heart arrhythmias) it is the best the small (but strong) city has to offer. When India is on tap, you know you are Home.
Home is a funny thing (and by the way, I/we think I/we use the word funny all too glibly, but I/we will continue to do so until reprimanded by someone of higher authority). Just under two years ago, Pittsburgh was about to become our home and in the early part of this year, Richmond, Virginia was supposedly the very same. Pittsburgh tried to spit us out with its uncommonly warm March and subsequently snowy April (Who wants to watch a Pirates game in sub-30 temps? And to be honest, who wants to watch a Pirates game all?), but by Steelers’ Season, the city had etched itself on our hearts and it’s six-month winter (Halloween through Tax Day) was shortly seen as endearing rather than brutal; the drunk Uncle you can’t help but hug, even as he cusses you out and spills beer and cigarette ash on you. Richmond posited a different set of problems – primarily a lack of consistent income and a rare and diffcult to treat neuralgia – home was a word it never wanted to attach to us; not to mention the coffee was far below mediocre.
And now, almost two years to the day (12.8.06) and after thousands of miles on the Eisenhower Interstate System we are Home, sitting gently, with jittery-coffee-hands, in the very same coffee shop where the decision to leave was made.
So we grew up in cultural-Christianity, where church was somewhere you went, not something you were. Where information preceded belief and ultimately behaviour. Where alcohol and tobacco were not used in gentle moderation not because the Bible said so, but because the church covenant deemed them immoralities that would damn you to The Pit. Where dresses were demanded of the women and missing mid-week service for a Little League game was the unpardonable sin. Where community was a thing based on likeness, not diversity united by Christ and everyone kept up their facade because, apparently, Sanctification, like Justification was once and done; cracks were not permitted here because we’re no longer broken people. And that’s why we don’t listen to rock devil music, smoke, drink or cuss and that’s what gets us to Heaven, of course, if the Rapture doesn’t happen first.
Fear of eternal Hell cannot produce true saints, and we lived in that misguided preconception up until age twenty-six. Jesus was our get-out-of-Hell-free-card and we used him for what he could give us, rather than love him for who he was. This smacks of as much idolatry as the false gospels that have other names attached to them (ie: prosperity) for it forces us to love things rather than Christ and use him to get to our very own ends. Living in the blood-soaked atonement changes us and we will never be the same.
We had seven hundred dollars in our pocket and nothing more. Rent was due on 95 South 22nd Street in just four weeks and that was more than half of our available funds. Saving one dollar on Brillo Pads at Giant Eagle was something to be jazzed about; so was keeping the gas bill under eighty and electric under forty. Internet was free if the wind blew just right, especially at night. There was no Farmer’s Market or coffee-shop of our liking but this was the price to pay to flip a city on its head we arrogantly and naively thought. We thought this was our purpose here, but time revealed that it was only Training for Utopia.
Humility was Session One and its Lecture is far from over.
“In Him, we live and move and have our being” says the great Apostle. The Body, to function properly, needs to function with the thickness of blood. Anemia will not do. Thick authenticity comes only with superior sacrifice. Our propensity to go wide but not deep shelters us from the penetrating cuts that will bind us to-gether more tightly; that will weave into us the spirit of Shalom and healing. When we go brother-to-brother and sister-to-sister emptying our souls to and for them in prayer, the blanket is woven with chains. When people matter more than possessions or power the Body scabs its wounds and another step toward Shalom has been taken.
Seven days short of two years later and we’re only crawling.
Yeah, I want to be kind of a big deal
I fight with pride a lot. As I was telling a friend today: if you take a guy that is fairly smart, can put disparate concepts together, can talk well, and you make him a Christian, you get something very dangerous. He starts believing the press others say about him and begins to think he is much more mature than he actually is. This is me. My entire life people have set me apart for “something big for God.” Being able to understand and communicate even the deepest truths of God and His Word doesn’t equal maturity one bit. Seminary has certainly been showing me just how independent I try to be from God.
But nevertheless, something does resonate within me when I think about my place on the national/world stage. I feel like I’m being tailored by God for big, visible things out there in the world. I don’t know for sure what this means, and I’m fine with it not coming to pass, but I feel like I’m being prepared for a weight I could not bear apart from prior work by God.
But that’s not the point of this post. Now, like I said, I was grabbing coffee with that friend of mine – a friend who is quite visible on the national and international stage. But he’s been struggling with something recently that really struck me. He pointed out that no person ever used by God for really big things ever did it apart from great levels and displays of suffering. His problem was that he shirks from suffering while seeking comfort – the very thing that is antithetical to what he’s called to. I have a similar problem.
I’m only 22 and I feel like I haven’t suffered much. Some really dark family stuff, spiritual dark months of the soul, and severe emotional pains (loneliness and heartache, mainly), but really no classic forms of real suffering. Yet, in spite of this, God has given me a very developed theology of suffering and God’s Sovereignty within it. This terrifies me. I can not get away from this haunting sense deep in the recesses of my mind that severe trials lie ahead of me. So severe that God needs to prepare me now to survive the pains to come.
In one sense this reaffirms my desire to be well-known, influential, and in front of many people. On the other it sobers me, realizing (perhaps for the first time) what it means to “count the cost.” So perhaps all those that have been praising and building me up for big things in the future have actually been painting a target on my soul for the refining pains and trials of God.
So for those of you out there seeking renown, fame, and exposure. Know that if you really are doing it to God’s Glory, then no servant is greater than his Master, and you should expect nothing less than fulfilling in the body the sufferings of Christ, that His life might be seen through your death for your good and God’s Glory.
my eyes are small but they have seen the beauty of enormous things
Art & Article by David Schrott
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O, Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of Death? Thanks be to Christ Jesus our Lord.
–Rom 7.24, 25
But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; … always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.
…So do not lose heart, while the outer self is wasting away, the inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light, momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.
–2 Cor 4.7-9, 11, 12, 16, 17
So, here I sit, in the fifth apartment I’ve lived in in the past 20 months, where Spruce meets Pine in the West End of Lancaster City, skipping church (and the coffee shop) because I simply don’t feel physically up to it (this weekend has been rather difficult). If, a year ago, I thought the early part of 2007 was a tough year, it was only preparation (mere child’s play, perhaps) for 2008. I frequently am left second-guessing the decisions I made at the end of last year and “what if…” pops up daily in my confused thought process. But when grounded with the reality of the Truth revealed to me in the Scriptures, and when confronted with that Truth by friends, I realize such sentiments are only selfish pursuits aimed at the questioning of God’s providence and sovereignty — why me? why now? Instead of such questions, I think, perhaps, the best posture to assume would be that of Job: Naked I came from my mother’s womb and naked I shall return. The Lord has given and the Lord has taken away — Blessed be the name of the Lord (Job 1.21). In fact, the better question, in the midst of trying times, should be “Why not me? Why not now? If those of us who claim Christ are to magnify Him in all things, should we not accept our present condition, whatever it may be, to make His name more glorious? If there are those who will not magnify Him in times of great duress (and curse Him instead, or ask the natural, but near ridiculous, question “where was God”?), will not we, his faithful people, be willing to make his name great in our similarly difficult scenarios?
As each year passes, the more I realize that life is brutal and that the reality of the curse remains evident. This reality could so easily lead us into those dark nights of despair where everything is hopeless and where we are lead to believe that nothing will ever get better or change. And they might not. At least in this life (Psalm 30.4-5). But, as I learn, year by year and day by day, there is much to hope for. We are granted all that we need in this life which leads us into godliness; participation in the Divine Nature (2 Peter 1). Daily, thru the difficulties and trials this present, physical age brings upon us, we are made more like Him. The change we oh-so-long-for is happening and is coming. In this life and in the next. We can second guess our decisions and lament this present age, but the power to see real transformation and real change is at hand, and while we tarry for the night, our joy will come in the morning (Ps. 30.5). Paul pleads with us to see thru this lens; it is our only hope of remaining faithful when life collapses on us. When we hold onto His promises, the bleakness of this existence is worth pushing through and on til the end. Creation groans. Restoration will come.
Expectations will remain unmet. This is a reality we have to accept and not become disappointed and angry with God when the reality of this hits. We need to see this as an opportunity to draw near to Him and let him change us in our disappointment — which often reveals to us that we’ve let good things become ultimate things [idolatry]. When I left Pittsburgh for Richmond on Saturday January 5th of this year, there was a lot that I expected to happen. Some did and some did not. Other difficulties seemingly came out of nowhere, and because of the many disappointments I faced while there (and am still dealing with – most of you know of my ongoing medical confusions that I frequently blame on happening only because of my time in Virginia), I fall into regret and into lament. But, as reminded by one of my closest friends the other night, there was purpose in it. Had I not ventured into the Confederate Capital, I would not have had the privilege of meeting three of the godliest Christian men I know (and attended the Vintage21 Men’s Conf, which I can’t describe with words how valuable it was). I learned so much from them in my brief time there that it is near impossible to say that it was a mistake to go (though I often do).
We undervalue the importance of Community (and in that Accountability and Confession). We cannot continue to be Lone Christian Rangers. It will not work. And it was not meant to be that way (Acts 4.32-37, among others). This may have been the greatest lesson that I learned in Pgh and Rva. After visiting and/or attending at least 13 churches in just under two years, I’ve come to learn that it is impeccably foolish of us to think we can go on without community, fellowship and accountability (some of the very factors that ignited the early church and its exponential growth upon growth). We’ve become so individualistic in the West that we think we’re exempt from the commands in Hebrews and elsewhere and that if we show up on Sunday, slip out the backdoor and never come together the rest of the week that this is somehow okay. I think to some degree I am speaking more of Lancaster here than of Pgh and Rva, because these were the great and grand lessons I learned during my time away, and to come back and realize what a gap there was/is here is to some degree frightening. It is all well and fine to come together and spend time hanging out with each other — but are we ready, willing and able to get beyond surface conversations and interactions with each other? Are we serving each other (the local body) and are we serving others (our community) with the hopes of reaching them too with the gospel? I hope and pray that we can begin to foster more and more of this here and throughout our (small) but great city! Doing life deep together builds strength, encouragement and transformation not otherwise known. We absolutely must get beyond keeping each other at arm’s length. The body of Christ cannot fulfill its mission in such a way.
I’ll end with this:
And I heard a loud voice from the Throne saying “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with men, He will dwell with them and they will be His people…and death shall be no more; neither shall there be any more mourning, nor crying, nor pain, for the former things have passed away”…And He said, “write these things down, for these words are faithful and true.”
–Rev 21.3-5
everything was designed for my losing (4) {kind of; a recycled post from october 2007}
10.17.2007; 14th and E. Carson, Pgh, Pa (if i wasn’t a calvinist, i’d hate women)
even among your heart’s great durress, you want to scream, shout and dance (huh?!) in your joy. this all-consuming joy that only shows its face in those dark hours. it’s those days when you are brought so low that there is only one to be reached out to, and in that great distress, that horrible despair, even, is the one who ordained that misery – those weaknesses – to fight for perfect glory. and in that is the great comfort.
five months ago in this very coffee shop, you scribbled down those words about all things being made new – from Death comes Life, right? right. and in these tragedies (or so we see them) lie our daily-mini-deaths. and borne out of those deaths are new mini-lives. and in the redemption from that death, to this life – what joy!
in deepest despair one cries out – and in that cry, there is sustinance – that greatest joy.
what foolishness: to look to the grandest times of sorrow + suffering with the strongest sentiment of nostalgia + yearning. don’t you taste redemption? it is near. and in fact, it is here. suffer again; there is no fear.
death begets life. sorrow begets only the purest of all joys.
and here you are, young + naieve. what grand tragedy have you endured? you are a fool to write such ugly words. you cannot fathom the heart-break of the most awful tragedies. how can you so boldly proclaim that you yearn for them? in those most tragic of kingdoms that you have found yourself (though they know nothing of the depths of some – or most, for that matter!) always sustained by the power borne of such weaknesses.
if you must boast and delight in anything, delight in weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions and difficulties. when you are weak, then you are strong.
Sunday Morning thoughts
Lord do I praise Thee at all times? Is that Biblical, even? What is worship? That which declares and proclaims the Glory of God, through treasuring it, I suppose. Could Creation then worship? Could I, even when eating, drinking, and making merriment with fellow embattled saints come to treasure, declare, and proclaim all You Are, Say, and Be – Your Glory? Your Manifold Perfection breaking through my leisure and feast and satisfactions to be ushered in as a herald to Your coming Kingdom already at hand? Does this prose and poetry bring the Reality of You and Your Kingdom that much more into this world? Is this the way you made us – made this system – to work? This whole “Christianity” thing? Perhaps obedience is worship. Perhaps I must end this now and worship. Command what Thou will, and give what Thou commands.
In love,
Your favorite.
the best way to spend time on the PATurnPike
Portable Bible-study with Mark Driscoll in the back seat of a VW Jetta:
everything was designed for my losing (3) {on the misfortunes of life}
I am often left thinking/wishing that I could go back in time, just a few months, just to December, and make a few little changes. Maybe I’d re-read the email I’d sent out to all of my friends in early November which declared Pittsburgh to be the center of the Universe and that everyone I knew should move there and that I’d never leave. Or maybe I’d take a hint that after a few different sublets fell thru in Richmond that maybe I shouldn’t just up and leave – at least not yet. But no, I was persistent. I was gonna fight for this one, no matter what the cost and January 7th was the cut-off date.
That hasty decision still haunts me. That hasty decision still brings tears.
If I’m being honest, if I could take it all back, I would. I never would have moved, despite all the riches that moving there provided. If not moving would have spared my this physical and psychological pain, I’d take it back without thinking. I lay here facing mounting medical bills and am generally in pain all of the time. It’s almost impossible not to think about. It’s most-of-the-time overwhelming and the first question that comes to mind is “why”?
Why did I have to meet So and So and move to Richmond?
Why didn’t I see a doctor sooner?
Why can’t life return to normal, you know, like it was in the fall, when everything finally smoothed out?
Everything was designed for my losing. Even my comfort.
A few weeks ago, two of my dearest friends in the world were visiting from Illinois. The morning before they left we had coffee at Prince Street and talked about the “problem” of pain. Why does pain, in many cases, point one to Christ and in others, drive some from him? Why am I given the grace to see the joy in this misery, when I’ve seen others choose against that joy and rail against God? A few nights later, in Pittsburgh, I met a girl named Charis (Greek meaning Grace) who’d recently come to the States to have hip replacement surgery. She is younger than me. Not only had she just had a hip replaced, but she’d previously had two organ transplants and just by looking at her it was obvious she was ill. I don’t know all of the details of her situation, but she is presumably in more difficult circumstances than I, but there she was, playing Dutch Blitz with the girls from her Bible study. Smiling.
Jesus moves on us to change us. He really will show us that everything was designed for our losing. My comfort’s been ripped out from under me and in nearly constant misery, I have to fight for joy. I have to lean on the grace of God to show that my joy is in Him and not in my comfort or any other temporal thing; this is hard and usually not evident from my exterior behavior. And, to be honest, I hate the reality of this. Why can’t it be different? But that’s the wrong question. If, as part of its mission, the church is to serve, and if I am part of the church, it is most certainly my job to serve, and if, in this pain, I develop perseverance and hope and joy, then down the road, it is my job to help someone else find those very things in the midst of pain and suffering as well.
The better, real question is: Why NOT me?
One Thing is Needed
How can the Bible’s statement of our need be our greatest offense and greatest joy? Some thoughts on “Humility” by someone who did doctoral research on it.
by Jen Justice
For those who might have been wondering: yes, I am still alive. I started the below article back in April, maybe even March… and then life happened. =) But here I am.
I love that the necessity of humility was brought forth so early here at Reform and Revive. If the gospel is to intersect with our lives and our culture, humility is a necessary ingredient in that process. Why? Because God’s ways are not our ways and to walk in His ways requires that we surrender our drive to live “reasonable” lives. (Perhaps Paul’s comments on our “subnatural” state will help us with this…)
The first step toward walking in God’s ways is acknowledging Him as the eternal Sovereign Lord, which requires more humility than most of us possess (as was pointed out by Whit via Tozer in a previous post). It requires that we admit to being creatures—and subservient creatures at that. As Michael Casey puts it in his book on humility, you will often notice those of our race having trouble forgiving ourselves for any slowness of mind or ineffectiveness of will—essentially, for being human. We refuse to see ourselves as the created subjects we are; we forget that we are not gods. We need to accept the fact that we are humus; our origins are in the earth and not the heavens.
But when we do come to terms with our creaturehood, we find ourselves in a stance to accept God as He is. A wholly Other, uncreated, divine, eternal being … And to recognize our position relative to Him. Mainly, as our Creator, He is the best authority on how we are meant to live.
There are many aspects to the life God calls us to, but in this article I choose to highlight what our Lord described as “the one thing that is needed” in Luke 10:38-42. In this passage, Jesus tells Martha that her sister, Mary, has chosen the one thing that is needed, the thing that will not be taken away from her. What is that One Thing? Mary “sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.”
So how do we choose the one thing that is needed?
As always, I think it is a matter of faith—believing that God is right when He tells us that the most important thing we can do in this life is to sit in His presence, to listen to His words, to gaze on Him, to know Him. This is the one thing that will bring the freedom, acceptance, and significance we are all seeking. This is the One Thing that will fulfill the deepest desires of our hearts and transform us into the image of our Savior and King. I don’t know about you, but too often, I just have a hard time really believing this. My faith is weak. I think, surely I must need to be productive and successful in some things and have the love and approval of some men and have my own way in a few matters at least to experience all that I desire of life. But no, we cannot believe it, beloved. Only when the Perfect, Holy, True God is our heart’s pursuit and desire are we free.
Can you believe this? Will you choose to believe? If so, I’d like you to consider all the different ways your life could look when only this One Thing really matters—sitting at the feet of Jesus, meditating on His word, seeking His presence, beholding His beauty and wisdom, listening for His voice, obeying His loving direction. If you choose to believe the words of your Lord, what would this mean for your life? Where could you live? What job would you need? What people would you need around you? What would demand your time?
When considering the possibilities, on the one hand, having only one need is incredibly freeing, but on the other, it wounds our pride and offends our reason. But this is the price we pay, this is the cost we count when we choose to follow God’s ways and not our own, when we submit our lives to the lordship of Another. But be assured, child of God, that He rewards those who diligently search for Him (Hebrews 11:6) and that He is greatly pleased and honored by your faith in His wisdom in spite of how strange it may sound to your creature ears.
I know that I have listened so long to the ways of the world that I have failed to recognize that things such as professional success or personal dreams or the respect of men are expendable in God’s Kingdom. These are the lessons I have been learning lately, and so I ask you what the Spirit has been asking me:
What reasonable things in your life are keeping you from knowing intimacy with God as the one thing that is needed?
And will you humble yourself enough to let Him show you?
It’s worth it, my friends. How do I know? In part because I have tasted the sweet fruits of forgoing what I thought was reasonable, right, and good for more of Him, but more so, I know simply because He says it is so.
Will you believe Him?
What pollen taught me about sanctification
(disclaimer: Whit and Paul are much more qualified to write a post about sanctification after John Owen’s book. The following is only a tiny way that God made this topic real to me, again.)
I park under the trees. Not a fun place to park this time of year. A layer of sap, a layer of pollen, the morning dew, and repeat. Some birds contributed a few decorative elements to the yellow-green blanket.
My favorite time to drive is at sunset. In my opinion, the sunset is one of the most obvious displays of God’s glory and common grace.
I drove at sunset quite a bit this week. I noticed only one sunset.
I’m sure they were there. I’m sure they were beautiful. The pollen and sap and bird crap impaired my ability to see the eight-o’clock-glory-of-God. I was too busy being disgusted at the yellow-green film that covered my windows and was spurting through my air vents.
That is gross. I need to clean it off.
I’ll wait till it rains.
Or till the pollen stops dropping.
Or at least till after school is over.
So I missed sunset
after sunset.
Sin builds up like pollen.
(in my life)
I hate it. It disgusts me. but I’m so busy. And so the film of sin grows until I can no longer see the beauty and love of the Savior.
I’ll deal with that attitude later tonight. Or after finals.
I’m just reacting to the pressure I feel right now. It’s only a phase.
The fight of sin is a fight to see His glory, to experience the joy of experiencing His beauty. Jesus said, “Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.” (Matt 5:8)
Maybe my heart is extra wicked, but when I am overwhelmed by my sin, “Honor God” provides weak incentive to change. I want some benefit.
and there is a benefit! There is a promise, a motivation to strive for holiness:
The sight of His beauty. (Matt 5:8)
The treasure of His friendship. (Ps 27:4)
Fullness of joy in His presence. (Ps 16:11)
Although total righteousness is achieved only through faith in Christ and the fullness of salvation from sin has not yet arrived (the “already but not yet”..?), let us, with the apostle Paul (in Phil 3), clean our windshields of the pollen and press on towards the prize: the sight of His glorious face. (Rev 22:4)
[Contributed by Amy Roberts]
