Thursday, January 26, 2017

Looking Away (Friday Devotional)

“You who fear the Lord, praise Him! All you offspring of Jacob, glorify Him; stand in awe of Him, all you offspring of Israel! For He did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted; He did not hide His face from me, but heard when I cried to him.”

- Psalm 22:23-24

Sometimes you just have to look away. If you’re squeamish, that moment may come at the sight of blood or a broken bone. If you’re overwhelmed, it may happen when your desk is piled high with paperwork. If you’re easily embarrassed for others, maybe it’s when you’re watching a performer bomb on stage. And if you’re tenderhearted, perhaps it happens when you open a Time magazine at the doctor’s office and are confronted with images of impoverished and embattled refugees.

Whatever prompts them, we all have those moments when, confronted with supreme anxiety, the only comfortable option seems to be to take a “see no evil” approach. By simply averting our eyes, we’re able to, if not avoid the situation altogether, at least reduce its immediate personal impact. Looking away doesn’t actually make anything better, but at least for a moment you feel better.

But when you look away, you lose sight of more than just an uncomfortable situation—you willfully neglect your responsibility to your neighbor. Just because you can’t see the blood doesn’t mean the bleeding has stopped; while you’re more comfortable, they remain in agony. Looking away makes you feel better when you’re a bystander, but if you were the one suffering, it’s the last thing you’d want others to do.

What a comfort then to know that the Lord never averts His eyes from suffering. While we fall prey to looking away when things get too rough, God does not hide His face. While we too often plug our ears when screams become too shrill and too frequent, the Lord hears when we cry to Him. While our hearts are easily hardened, He does not “despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted.”

Never did this become clearer than when God sent His only Son to this world. Jesus didn’t shy away from the sick, the outcasts, and the sinners of his time—no disease was too disgusting, no suffering too severe, no iniquity too unpardonable for him to offer compassion to the people carrying those burdens. Far from avoiding their agony for the sake of his own comfort, Jesus reached out to them with the love, healing, and forgiveness of the kingdom of God. And ultimately, he did more than see their suffering, more than empathize with it, more even than attend to it—on the cross he embodied it. We look away when others’ pain becomes too great; Jesus took that pain upon himself.

Suffering is one of life’s awful realities, a burden that can seem too great to witness, much less to bear. Sometimes it’s easier to just look away. But our Lord never does, and His disciples shouldn’t either. Empowered and emboldened by His Spirit, infused with His love, may we respond to suffering with the courage and compassion of Christ, reaching out instead of looking away. The world may not always be a pretty place, but the answer is not to ignore or avoid its ugliness—the Christian alternative is to respond with the beauty of grace.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Higher Than Highly Recommended (Friday Devotional)

I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, so that no one can say that you were baptized in my name. (I did baptize also the household of Stephanas; beyond that, I do not know whether I baptized anyone else.) For Christ did not send me to baptize but to proclaim the gospel, and not with eloquent wisdom, so that the cross of Christ might not be emptied of its power. For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

- 1 Corinthians 1:14-18

“Just take my word for it.”

Most recommendations are built on that principle, if not those exact words. If you’re encouraging a friend to try your favorite restaurant or join your gym, you make your case primarily through the lens of your own experience. You don’t recite statistics off the company website or read their mission statement; instead, you simply explain what you personally like and appreciate about the place, maybe with a story about how it won you over. Ultimately, your endorsement boils down to your friend taking your word for it—I liked it, so I think you will too.

Personal testimony has a long and powerful tradition in Christianity, starting in the days of the apostles. After all, how could someone with Paul’s story, someone who had moved from throwing believers in prison to being imprisoned as a believer himself, not tell others about his experience with Christ? Starting as soon as he got off the road to Damascus, Paul was telling people how the gospel had changed him and urging them to answer Jesus’s call themselves.

But his testimony never sank to the level of personal recommendation, and neither should yours. When Paul told his story, it was first and foremost with the intention of exalting Christ, never himself. Paul didn’t urge people to follow in his footsteps (the way you might if you were recommending a restaurant to a friend), but rather pressed them to follow the way of Jesus. In fact, when Paul heard that there were some baptizing in the names of certain apostles (instead of in Christ’s name), he thanked God that he had baptized too few people for his own name to join the fray. He never wanted any personal element of his story, however powerful, to supersede the message of the cross.

The gospel is an old story, and its familiarity can lead us to falsely believe we need to add our own spin to interest people. But when your testimony becomes more about yourself than Christ, when the gospel story gives way to your story, you lessen its authority. Though it may seem like foolishness to the world, the cross is power to those called by the Holy Spirit, and it should always be the foundation of your witness. Christ alone—not you, not your pastor, not a politician—can save. Don’t take my word for it, take His.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

The Essentials (Friday Devotional)

‘I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, for in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind— just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you— so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ. He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful; by him you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.’

- 1 Corinthians 1:4-9

Nearly a month into this new adventure of parenting, I’ve already learned that getting out the door takes a lot longer than it used to. Formerly, Lindsey and I could start getting ready to leave home just a few moments before we needed to be in the car, but now we have to allow at least 15 minutes to get everything together. It turns out you need a lot of stuff to keep babies safe, clean, and happy when they’re traveling!

So I hope you’ll understand the mistake I made late last week. Lindsey was blow-drying her hair, leaving me responsible for filling the diaper bag with all the essentials before we left. I scurried about collecting everything and, when I thought I had everything together, waited patiently by the door. When Lindsey emerged from the bathroom, she asked if I was ready, and I ran through the list of things I had gathered. Diapers? Check. Wipes? Check. Blanket? Check. Clean outfit? Check. Pacifier? Check. I smiled triumphantly, certain we could head out.

“Honey?” Lindsey asked sweetly. “What about the baby?” My eyes looked to the window all the way across the room. There was my son sleeping soundly in his car seat, waiting for someone to pick him up. I had all his essentials, but I was missing what counted most.

As we go through life, we often adopt the same attitude I did last week, thinking that if we’re just diligent enough then we’re sure to have everything we need. If I work enough hours, I’ll earn respect. If I save enough money, I’ll earn security. If I spend enough time with someone, I’ll earn love. By acquiring all these emotional and spiritual essentials ourselves, we think we’ll be ready when things get rough and we really need them.

But in rushing to acquire these individual essentials yourself, you can forget what matters most: your relationship with God. It is ultimately He who gives you the grace and the gifts that sustain you in the hardest times; it is He who is faithful when your own talents and resources fail you. While your own efforts can leave you helpless and hopeless, His grace is always sufficient to see you through.

So despite the individualistic allure of doing it all yourself, of singlehandedly working your way to spiritual health and maturity one step at a time, never forget what matters most in your spiritual life. Take it from me—you can have all the essentials gathered up, but if the most important thing of all is still far from you, you’re not going anywhere.

Thursday, January 5, 2017

Playing Favorites (Friday Devotional)

‘Then Peter began to speak to them: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ—he is Lord of all…All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”’

- Acts 10:34-36, 43

When I’m at a new restaurant, especially one with an expansive menu, it can be hard for me to decide what sounds tastiest. So when I’m feeling particularly indecisive, sometimes I’ll let my server make the choice for me by asking them a simple question: “What’s your favorite thing on the menu?” Usually they’ll hem and haw about how everything on the menu is good, but when pressed will offer three or four suggestions.

But I remember in one instance, I had a server who simply wouldn’t cooperate. I asked what his favorite dish was and he gave me the typical line about how he enjoyed everything on the menu, but when I asked again, he didn’t narrow it down as I expected him to. Instead, he said something that stuck with me: “I know there’s a lot on the menu, but the truth is, everything on it is my favorite.”

When it comes to God’s love for people, you could paraphrase Acts 10:34 similarly: everyone is His favorite. The early church had to confront this truth almost immediately as it grew beyond Jerusalem to, as Jesus put it, “Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth.” A church that had begun as a collection of Jewish disciples had to learn (with help from a vision God gave to Peter) that the gospel was good news not only for the Jews, but the Gentiles as well. Contrary to what they may have been taught by the rabbis growing up, God showed no partiality when it came to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Today that conflict may seem almost quaint to you, an issue settled long ago—of course the gospel is for everyone, we think. But the truth is, Christians struggle just as much today as 2,000 years ago with who we think deserves to hear God’s word. We’re happy to invite middle class suburbanites to our church services, but expect inner city residents to find their own congregations. We gladly fork over $20 for a bad car wash to send teenagers to youth camp, but refuse to part with a $5 bill when we see a homeless woman sitting outside McDonald’s. We tell our children to be kind to everyone, but then say we don’t want them hanging around with the kids from that neighborhood. As much as we may intellectually understand that God shows no partiality and that we shouldn’t either, we can’t seem to help playing favorites.

We must remember that what makes the gospel so powerful is that it is available to everyone, that God does not limit His grace to a select race or class of people. God’s love stretches beyond the barriers that so often hold us back, it reaches into the pockets of society that we are too scared or too ignorant to approach. Everyone is His favorite, so may we in response take the gospel beyond just our familiar, favorite faces, ready to trade our partiality for His grace.

Monday, January 2, 2017

December Reading Log



“What are you reading right now?”

That’s one of my favorite questions, both to ask and answer. I love learning about new books through conversations with friends, I love telling fellow readers about the book that’s captivating me at any given moment, and I especially love that moment when I realize a friend and I have read the same book and get to geek out over it. Books are productive, engaging, empowering…but more than any of these things, they’re fun!

So, stealing an idea from my friend and fellow pastor Jeff Gravens, I thought I’d start the New Year by telling you what I’ve read in the last month—just a snapshot of each of the books I finished in the last 30 days. I always enjoy Jeff’s monthly entries, so I thought perhaps you’d enjoy mine as well. So without further ado, here’s what I read in December:
  


INFINITE JEST by David Foster Wallace

This book was brilliant, sad, funny, confusing, and absorbing. And long. So very long.

I hate to lead with something as seemingly trivial as its length, but let's face facts, it's the first thing you notice when you pick this behemoth up. By the time you finish, you've read 988 pages of prose, plus another 96 pages of endnotes in font about this big--endnotes that actually do matter to the main story, lest you try and skip them for the sake of time. Reading this book, especially the last couple of weeks, was like running the final mile of a marathon--I enjoyed the experience, sure, but mostly I was just proud to have finished.

With all of that said, this universally acclaimed Important Book earns its many plaudits. The plot is loose, but generally revolves around a film known as The Entertainment, a film so captivating that once you watch it you don't want to do anything else, including eat and sleep. But the plot is mostly irrelevant; the book's writing, characters, and themes are what resonate most: Wallace's insight into addiction, entertainment, loss, and the way the three connect was incredible. One particular passage about what addiction feels like, told from the perspective of a drug addict, will stick with me for a long time.

This book is a challenge, no doubt--I started it October 16 and didn't finish until December 31, and there weren't many days in that stretch when I wasn't devoting an hour to reading Infinite Jest. Wallace is purposefully wordy, which makes for hilarious prose sometimes, fascinating description at other times, and tediousness in its worst spots.  And again, it's long. But I'm glad I read it, and I would certainly recommend it to anyone looking for a modern classic.


THE DIVINE COMEDY by Dante Alighieri

Another Important Book, and another one that was tedious at times, though that was more my fault than Dante's. It turns out that when buying translated works, it's best to do your homework beforehand. My copy is a translation by the famous American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, with illustrations by William Blake to boot...when I saw it at a local used bookstore, I thought I'd found a real gem. Well, word to the wise: when you opt for an English translation from the 19th century, it's going to sound like 19th century English.

Between that language barrier and Dante's repeated references to Florentine politics, ancient poets, and Thomistic theology, I made pretty liberal use of SparkNotes while reading The Divine Comedy, and my experience was better for it. There's a lot to appreciate from Dante, but a lot to be confused by too, so find an annotated copy if you can (not to mention one by a more modern translator than Longfellow.)

The Divine Comedy tells the story of Dante's journey through Hell, Purgatory, and ultimately Paradise, where he (spoiler alert) beholds the full glory of God. If you've heard of Inferno, the first section, and didn't know there were two more parts, there's a good reason for that: it's easily the most accessible and interesting section, as well as the most influential. Purgatorio is, to be frank, pretty boring, one long climb to heaven. Paradiso is interesting, especially for the biblically literate (due to the familiar characters Dante encounters) but it suffers from lazy writing--Dante frequently tells the reader that what he saw was so awesome as to be indescribable, which is fine for a layperson, but not so much when you're a poet who chose heaven as your given topic. If you can't describe it, write about trees like all the other poets!

Overall, my experience with The Divine Comedy was spoiled somewhat by my poor translation choice, but I'm glad to be able to check it off my book bucket list and to see for myself how a 14th century poem continues to affect many Christians' understanding of the afterlife today (usually without them even realizing it.)


SIMPLY CHRISTIAN: WHY CHRISTIANITY MAKES SENSE by N.T. Wright


This book has been described as a modern Mere Christianity. For my money, it's superior to its predecessor. I know that in evangelical circles it borders on heresy to say this, but I'm just not a big fan of C.S. Lewis's theological books, and believe me, I've given him more than a fair shake (I've read Mere Christianity, The Four Loves, The Screwtape Letters, and Miracles.) I love the Narnia series, but for me that's where Lewis makes his best points about faith--not directly, but through the veil of allegory.

So describing Simply Christian, possibly N.T. Wright's most famous and most popular book, as a modern Mere Christianity was not an immediate selling point for me. But Wright is probably my favorite living Christian writer, so I gave it a shot, and I'm so glad I did.

Much like Mere Christianity, Simply Christian is written to and for unbelievers as a kind of soft apologetics--not defending Christianity from specific attacks so much as restating its central narrative in a way that may make more sense to people who don't know or appreciate the vocabulary and traditions of the church. As the book's subtitle indicates, Wright's task is to show why Christianity actually does make sense, despite an unbeliever's reservations. And, while I didn't exactly need convincing, I thought he did a marvelous job considering the ambition of that task.

Wright approaches the argument by looking at four things all humans desire in some form: justice, spirituality, relationship, and beauty, and after proving that these are indeed all human needs, he shows how God meets and fulfills them in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. If that sounds too simplistic, believe me when I say I am not doing Wright justice. The book is exceptionally well organized and thought out, and presents Christianity as something that is not only accessible, but attractive and exciting--less a set of doctrines than an announcement of good news.

I highly recommend this book both for interested non-Christians and for believers looking to hear Christianity explained in different terms than what you're used to from a typical Sunday morning sermon. Wright is a brilliant theologian and biblical scholar, but more importantly, he is an excellent writer. Give this book a shot; you will not be disappointed.



ESSENTIAL DOCTOR STRANGE VOL. 1-2 BY STAN LEE, STEVE DITKO, ROY THOMAS, GENE COLAN, STEVE ENGELHART, ET AL.

So this last entry may require a little bit of extra explanation. For those who don't know, I am a huge comic book nerd, and while there are plenty of modern comics I enjoy (some of which I'm sure will wind up in this log in the months to come), my particular passion is comic book history, those titles and creators from when my dad was buying 25 cent comics at the local drugstore. As campy and overblown as much of the stuff from the 1960s and 1970s is, I can't get enough.

The two books I read this month are part of what is, by far, my favorite reprint line that Marvel has ever put out, the now-defunct Essential series. Each volume collects anywhere from 20-30 consecutive issues, presented entirely in black-and-white for $20. If you've ever checked the price on a modern graphic novel, then you know that's not just a bargain, it's a steal...one I am loathe to pass up. As a result, I've amassed a collection of 24 of these volumes and counting, featuring titles from Captain America to the Fantastic Four to Godzilla.

So this month, inspired by the new Doctor Strange movie, I turned my attention to two unread Essentials that have been sitting on my shelf for months waiting for their moment. What I found was a mixed bag, with touches of brilliance, stretches of filler, and a whole lot of late-60s/early-70s psychedelic craziness.

The titular Doctor Strange is not a traditional superhero, but rather the Sorcerer Supreme of this earth (or this dimension, depending on who's writing him on any given day.) As such, while the plots follow the traditional formula of a superhero comic (hero vs. villain of the month), this was generally a different kind of reading experience than what you get from the Incredible Hulk or the Silver Surfer.

The star of the book is definitely the art, first by the character's legendary co-creator Steve Ditko and then later by the criminally underrated Gene Colan. However, this is one of the first times that the Essential series has been a bad fit for a title, because these stories should definitely be read in color. Ditko especially presents the world of Doctor Strange as one full of trippy, Dali-esque geometric shapes and bright, psychedelic colors, and while you can let your imagination fill in the blanks to some degree, you're definitely missing something when you tackle these stories in black and white.

The stories themselves are hit-or-miss, largely depending on who the villain is. If Dormammu, Doctor Strange's arch-nemesis, is the opponent, count on a good story. At the end of vol. 2, there's a multi-issue epic in which the good doctor takes on the primordial monster Shuma-Gorath that is also excellent. The rest is far from "essential" reading.

Sections of these volumes were tedious, and it wasn't hard to see why the title sold poorly by the end of the 1960s (long after Stan Lee and Steve Ditko had moved on). But by the end of vol. 2, when Steve Engelhart had taken the writing reins, things got interesting again, adopting a very 1970s approach to the character by mixing the sword-and-sorcery genre with horror and Eastern mysticism. Man behind the curtain: there were a lot of psychoactive drugs floating around the Marvel offices in the early 1970s, and it shows. But much like with rock music of that time, they make the work pretty interesting. Marvel ended vol. 2 in a perfect spot, because I was definitely left wanting more. The Essential Doctor Strange Vol. 3 is on the shelf at my local comic shop and I will almost definitely pick it up to see where Engelhart went next with the character.