It's hard not to get caught up in this world.
I suppose the obviousness and cliche-ness of that statement overpowers the reality of it. Reading through 2 Corinthians, you don't get a sense that Paul is bragging about his accomplishments as much as he is bragging about what God is doing. And it just so happens that because Paul is doing God's will, he's at the center of what's going on.
This is hard. I really want to be, as Ron Burgundy says, "kind of a big deal." It's a big motivator. Sure, I do "ministry." In a way, what I do is service for others. But there is a selfish part of me that wants to be know for doing cool ministry. Big ministry. It's for God, but it's still selfish.
Paul notes that Jesus wants us to give cheerfully. I don't think this is just about money. It's about our time. It's about our love. It's about our our futures. My dreams. My ambitions.
Paul's become a servant, a slave. He's turned over his future. I need to be better at doing that.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
March 6th: Leviticus 12-13, Psalm 113-114 and 2 Corinthians 5-7
Reading through Leviticus 13 and there is a lot of concern about Leprosy. And I now know more about the biblical understanding of it than I think I really needed to know. It definitely makes me wish there had been this level of detail with a couple other things.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
March 5th: Leviticus 11, Psalm 110-112 and 2 Corinthians 3-4
"Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."
This speaks into a lot of the things that I have been thinking about in the last couple of posts. See, I love grace. The concept is awesome. It's a pardon, an over-looking of things done wrong. Unwarranted. Unearnable.* Like Phillip Yancy said, it's some pretty amazing stuff. It really is hard to thing of a negative connotation attached to "grace."
Specifically, in 2 Corinthians 3, Paul is contrasting the law and grace when he speaks of the freedom of the Spirit. We don't need the sacrifices, we don't need the ceremony. We can mess up. And that's awesome. Sure, there is a little mystery lost in the ceremony. There is a holy terror that isn't quite a striking because of grace. Because, there is forgiveness that doesn't require blood to be shed again... because it was covered, once and for all. It truly was finished. Now, there is a lot less, "drag-him-out-of-the-camp-and-stone-hims." What used to be in the shadow of the ceremony and the sacrificing is now illuminated.
I can eat a shrimp cocktail. I can eat scallops wrapped in bacon. I guess I can eat that spotted owl after all. Not really on topic but c'mon! The clean and un-clean list is like the only comedic gold in Leviticus.
*Not a real word... how 'bout some grace? See! The grace thing totally works.
This speaks into a lot of the things that I have been thinking about in the last couple of posts. See, I love grace. The concept is awesome. It's a pardon, an over-looking of things done wrong. Unwarranted. Unearnable.* Like Phillip Yancy said, it's some pretty amazing stuff. It really is hard to thing of a negative connotation attached to "grace."
Specifically, in 2 Corinthians 3, Paul is contrasting the law and grace when he speaks of the freedom of the Spirit. We don't need the sacrifices, we don't need the ceremony. We can mess up. And that's awesome. Sure, there is a little mystery lost in the ceremony. There is a holy terror that isn't quite a striking because of grace. Because, there is forgiveness that doesn't require blood to be shed again... because it was covered, once and for all. It truly was finished. Now, there is a lot less, "drag-him-out-of-the-camp-and-stone-hims." What used to be in the shadow of the ceremony and the sacrificing is now illuminated.
I can eat a shrimp cocktail. I can eat scallops wrapped in bacon. I guess I can eat that spotted owl after all. Not really on topic but c'mon! The clean and un-clean list is like the only comedic gold in Leviticus.
*Not a real word... how 'bout some grace? See! The grace thing totally works.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
March 4rd: Leviticus 9-10, Psalm 108-109 and 2 Corinthians 1-2
Ok, so the deal is that I'm reading Leviticus as if this is my first time. I get to chapter 10 and Aaron's two sons burn some "strange fire." And God sends fire from heaven (again) and burns these two guys. Harsh. But God is love...right? How do you deal with this? How does this fit into your matrix of beliefs? Is God like a brand new teacher? He had to get His "class" in line then He would lighten up but the cool fun God? But He doesn't change. This is hard.
Is there a parallel for us today?
I would say yes... and no. Uh...sorry...Bible-college-me is saying that because first-time-through-the-Bible-me hasn't read Acts yet. And first-time-through-the-Bible-me is still trying to figure out what "stange fire" is all about. Bible-college-me knows about Ananias and Sapphira. That God struck them down when they lied. But that was a long time ago during the newness of a different age, the age of grace.
The lesson here... When God is doing something new; don't mess around.
Is there a parallel for us today?
I would say yes... and no. Uh...sorry...Bible-college-me is saying that because first-time-through-the-Bible-me hasn't read Acts yet. And first-time-through-the-Bible-me is still trying to figure out what "stange fire" is all about. Bible-college-me knows about Ananias and Sapphira. That God struck them down when they lied. But that was a long time ago during the newness of a different age, the age of grace.
The lesson here... When God is doing something new; don't mess around.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
March 3rd: Leviticus 8, Psalm 107 and 1 Corinthians 16
Dedicating the temple to God. Quite the ordeal. Full of ceremony. Blood and oil on everything.
Why? Because this is the place where God would live. This is the place on the earth where the physical presence of God would dwell. All the dreadful holiness. All the divine power and love embodied in one place.
Kind of like the Holy Spirit in us... just without the blood and incense and oil.
In his book Till We Have Faces, C. S. Lewis retold the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche. The central character, Orual, struggles against a primitive and irrational religion. The religion is full of dark and "holy" things. The ominous temple is filled with a heavy incense and pidgins are sacrificed. And the blood is throne on a massive hideous stone icon that represents the god. When Orual becomes queen, she adopts the prettier, cleaner religion of the Greeks. She constructs a beautiful Hellenistic statue next to the ruddy stone phallus.
In a revelation at the end of her life, Orual is struck by how little comfort the beautiful statue gives people. People flock to the holy fear caused by the dreadful stone. There is comfort in the terror. Something bigger and more wild than them.
Are we missing something in our churches? A holiness? A divine terror? When churches look more like Baby Gap then the blood smeared tabernacle of the Old Testement do we lose something?
I know that we are in the age of Grace. Blood was shed for the final time on the cross. Jesus is the lamb that all the other lambs pointed to. I get that. But how am I supposed to "Fear the Lord" (cause it's the BEGINNING of wisdom) when the only lesson I learn is that Jesus is my homeboy?!?
Is there a way to create the gravity of the ceremony of Leviticus 8 in the church? I mean look at the next to last verse... "do this so you don't die!" We, the church, are a royal preisthood. How do we translate this into our churches in this age of grace? In this day of jeans and t-shirts and iPhone Bibles and mini crackers and grape juice in thimbles...
How do I translate this into my life?
Why? Because this is the place where God would live. This is the place on the earth where the physical presence of God would dwell. All the dreadful holiness. All the divine power and love embodied in one place.
Kind of like the Holy Spirit in us... just without the blood and incense and oil.
In his book Till We Have Faces, C. S. Lewis retold the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche. The central character, Orual, struggles against a primitive and irrational religion. The religion is full of dark and "holy" things. The ominous temple is filled with a heavy incense and pidgins are sacrificed. And the blood is throne on a massive hideous stone icon that represents the god. When Orual becomes queen, she adopts the prettier, cleaner religion of the Greeks. She constructs a beautiful Hellenistic statue next to the ruddy stone phallus.
In a revelation at the end of her life, Orual is struck by how little comfort the beautiful statue gives people. People flock to the holy fear caused by the dreadful stone. There is comfort in the terror. Something bigger and more wild than them.
Are we missing something in our churches? A holiness? A divine terror? When churches look more like Baby Gap then the blood smeared tabernacle of the Old Testement do we lose something?
I know that we are in the age of Grace. Blood was shed for the final time on the cross. Jesus is the lamb that all the other lambs pointed to. I get that. But how am I supposed to "Fear the Lord" (cause it's the BEGINNING of wisdom) when the only lesson I learn is that Jesus is my homeboy?!?
Is there a way to create the gravity of the ceremony of Leviticus 8 in the church? I mean look at the next to last verse... "do this so you don't die!" We, the church, are a royal preisthood. How do we translate this into our churches in this age of grace? In this day of jeans and t-shirts and iPhone Bibles and mini crackers and grape juice in thimbles...
How do I translate this into my life?
Monday, March 2, 2009
March 2nd: Leviticus 7, Psalm 106 and 1 Corinthians 15
The Exodus of the Israelites was epic. It was so talked about the David mentions it over and over (again here in Psalm 106. Jesus mentions it. Paul mentions it. There is a constant theme of Sinai, the Red Sea and the wilderness through out the Bible, Old and New Testaments.
This made me think about how little I remember the past. Not only do I forget all the amazing blessings God has poured out for me, I also quickly forget the crappy stuff that I've done. Sure, God has forgiven me. The slate has been wiped clean (and other fine cliches). But looking at the Israelites of the Exodus, He forgave that generation. And yet their mistakes still serve as a warning, a landmark.
I think it would be good for me to give God the glory for things done "long ago" in my own life. Remembering both the times God did great things for me and also when I let God down in my own "rebellion."
This made me think about how little I remember the past. Not only do I forget all the amazing blessings God has poured out for me, I also quickly forget the crappy stuff that I've done. Sure, God has forgiven me. The slate has been wiped clean (and other fine cliches). But looking at the Israelites of the Exodus, He forgave that generation. And yet their mistakes still serve as a warning, a landmark.
I think it would be good for me to give God the glory for things done "long ago" in my own life. Remembering both the times God did great things for me and also when I let God down in my own "rebellion."
Sunday, March 1, 2009
March 1st: Leviticus 5-6, Psalm 105 and 1 Corinthians 14
Life isn't fair.
That probably doesn't come as much of a news flash. "This just in... Timmy Johnson, eight years old, finds out life is in fact not fair more at five o'clock." You and I learned this lesson early on when you hung out with your friend down the street who had the entire Lego Pirates set and it just sat on his dresser never touched after it had been assembled and even though you treasured Legos, and desperately wanted the Black Seas Barracuda, your parents couldn't afford to buy you it for Christmas. OK, maybe this particular lesson was only me...
The interesting thing in Leviticus 5-6 is just how fair God really is. He knew that not everyone would be on the same level. He knew that some people would easily be able to lose a goat or a lamb every so often (or regularly). He knew how much he had given them to begin with. But other families would never have that ability. A lamb or a goat was a stretch. A huge stretch. They couldn't even afford a pidgin. That's freaking poor. If you can't go out under an overpass and get a pidgin, you my friend are down and out. And God created a fair system for you to come back into a right relationship with Him.
It's the same principle found in the Parable of the Talents. If you've been given much, God expects a lot back either in ROI, or in your sacrifices right now. Kinda sobering. Seems a lot of prosperity guys forget that part. You ask for bigger boarders, don't forget what comes with that... an equal portion of responsibility for the poor, the widows and the foreigners. How's that for fair? I probably would have had to share the Barracuda with my brother and let's just say that wasn't going to happen.
That probably doesn't come as much of a news flash. "This just in... Timmy Johnson, eight years old, finds out life is in fact not fair more at five o'clock." You and I learned this lesson early on when you hung out with your friend down the street who had the entire Lego Pirates set and it just sat on his dresser never touched after it had been assembled and even though you treasured Legos, and desperately wanted the Black Seas Barracuda, your parents couldn't afford to buy you it for Christmas. OK, maybe this particular lesson was only me...
The interesting thing in Leviticus 5-6 is just how fair God really is. He knew that not everyone would be on the same level. He knew that some people would easily be able to lose a goat or a lamb every so often (or regularly). He knew how much he had given them to begin with. But other families would never have that ability. A lamb or a goat was a stretch. A huge stretch. They couldn't even afford a pidgin. That's freaking poor. If you can't go out under an overpass and get a pidgin, you my friend are down and out. And God created a fair system for you to come back into a right relationship with Him.
It's the same principle found in the Parable of the Talents. If you've been given much, God expects a lot back either in ROI, or in your sacrifices right now. Kinda sobering. Seems a lot of prosperity guys forget that part. You ask for bigger boarders, don't forget what comes with that... an equal portion of responsibility for the poor, the widows and the foreigners. How's that for fair? I probably would have had to share the Barracuda with my brother and let's just say that wasn't going to happen.
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