Seeing Is Believing (Friday Devotional)

 

Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me.’

- Matthew 25:37-40

“How you can you see that and not believe in God?”

That’s a sentiment you’ve probably heard from a fellow Christian, or even said yourself, when dazzled by the beauty of the natural world. Maybe it was a particularly colorful sunset that inspired the thought. Perhaps the words came on a mountain’s peak as you gazed out at the magnificent vista below. Even something as simple and serene as a morning on the beach, watching the waves crash in the distance and the tide roll in and out, can inspire the sentiment.

But what I can almost guarantee is that whatever you saw that prompted the thought was something majestic, something awe-inspiring, something bigger than yourself. “How can you see that and not believe in God” is not something we say when we’re looking at an armadillo or listening to a cricket; the routine and the simple do not often point us toward spirituality. It is grandeur, not humility, that makes us think about the Lord.

But the gospel story ought to give us pause in that respect. Jesus came to earth as a baby in a manger, not a king on a throne. He grew up in a carpenter’s home, he called fishermen to his side, he spent his ministry among the poor and the marginalized. And when he brought salvation to this world, he did so on an old rugged cross, dying so we could have life. The gospel is the story of the Word becoming flesh and living among us, of Jesus trading the glory of heaven for the suffering of earth, all so that we could know eternal life with God.

So it’s no wonder that, in his startling picture of the judgment to come, he calls to mind the hungry, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the imprisoned and associates himself with them. Just as you treated them, he says, so have you treated me. When you ignore or disdain or reject them, you do it to Jesus. When you help them, you help Jesus.

So maybe it’s time for us to see the world a little differently, to rely less on sunsets and rainbows for our spiritual inspiration and turn our attention instead to the places we’d rather not look at all. See the wild-eyed man at the intersection holding his cardboard sign that insists “Anything helps.” See the frazzled mother in the checkout line trying to determine whether she can afford formula and diapers before her next paycheck. See the angry teenager trying so hard to hide his fear and confusion with misbehavior.

See the people the world tells you to ignore. Because, Jesus asks, how can you look at them and not see me?

Mystery Solved (Friday Devotional)

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth…No one has ever seen God. It is the only Son, himself God, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.

- John 1:14, 18

Nobody likes an unsolved mystery. Imagine if you were to get to the end of an Agatha Christie novel or a Law & Order episode and the detectives simply shrugged their shoulders and said, “I guess we’ll never know who did it.” You’d be furious! After all the clues and all the investigating, you want answers, a resolution to all the questions swirling about.

Accepting mystery is something we struggle to do, but it is a necessary reality when it comes to our relationship with our Father in heaven. God is divine and transcendent, omnipotent and omniscient and omnipresent. Since the Fall and humanity’s subsequent exile from the Garden, we are unable to see his face without perishing, unable to know him fully. His thoughts, Isaiah 55:8 reminds us, are not our thoughts, and his ways are not our ways. Though the Lord entered into a covenant relationship with Israel in the Old Testament, he remained to some extent at arm’s length.

But when God sent his Son to this world, something changed forever—where there had once been mystery, we now have answers. If you want to know what God is like, you no longer have to guess or assume—you just have to look to Jesus. His teachings, his miracles, and especially his heart, all these display for us who God is and what matters to him.

The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus make God known to us in a way that the Law and the Prophets could only hint at. And by faith in Jesus, you are given the promise of an eternity where you will see God face to face, knowing him not just by faith but by sight.

So long as we remain sinners in a fallen world, there will always be times when you must interpret for yourself what God wants from you in a given situation. But as you pray, study Scripture, and discern the Spirit’s leading, be sure you do so with your eyes fixed on Jesus, that he is the criterion by which you interpret God’s will. For God is no longer the enigma he once was—in Jesus, he has made himself known.

Still Standing (Friday Devotional)

 

But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way but not crushed, perplexed but not driven to despair, persecuted but not forsaken, struck down but not destroyed, always carrying around in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For we who are living are always being handed over to death for Jesus’s sake, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our mortal flesh.

- 2 Corinthians 4:7-11

We want people to see us at our best. That’s why we clean the house before company comes over, why we don’t show up to job interviews in gym shorts, why we take family photos in matching outfits in autumnal fields. Pride demands that we cover up or hide our flaws rather than allow them to be seen by those we’re certain will judge us.

But sometimes, the disclosure of imperfections can actually tell a greater story than the tidier one we might otherwise put forward. Think of the Liberty Bell, for example. Its original use was simply to call people together to Independence Hall in Philadelphia; it was no more notable than an alarm clock would be today. But the famous crack it developed in the 1840s—even as the nation itself was splintering between North and South—gave the bell new meaning. Its survival as an imperfect but still resonant instrument has come to symbolize the liberty we hold dear—not in spite of its crack, but because of it.

For Christians, there is sometimes an expectation that the same God who washes away our sin will also take away our problems, that we will go straight from the waters of baptism to showers of earthly blessings. Having heard so much about God’s goodness and his grace, we come to believe that our relationship with him entitles us to an easier ride through the rest of life. We think he’ll ensure we never suffer a crack.

But though God could do that—and there are certainly times we wish he would—he more often goes a different direction, toward redemption instead of escape. Believers continue to face the same perils and temptations, the same hurts and heartaches, the same tough world as everybody else. But we do so with newfound hope in our hearts, with divine strength in our spirits, with incomprehensible joy. We are able to persevere—not because of our own tenacity, but because the crucified Christ is with us as we suffer.

Ours is a story of imperfect people saved and sustained by a perfect God. So in a culture that prefers a pristine façade to messy reality, don’t be afraid to tell the truth about who you are in Christ: a sinner saved by grace. Your road won’t always be easy, but God will go with you every step of the way.

The Friendly Confines (Friday Devotional)

 

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. 

- Romans 12:15

This past Monday, my family and I had the pleasure of attending a ballgame at Wrigley Field in Chicago, where we watched the Cubbies soundly defeat the San Francisco Giants. It was a beautiful day at the ballpark—warmer than you might expect from the Windy City, but lovely nevertheless. Between the giant American flag unfurled before the game, the dominant pitching from the Cubs’ starter, and the stadium singalong of “Go Cubs Go” after the final out, it was a truly idyllic day at the Friendly Confines.

Then we boarded the El train to get back to downtown Chicago. It certainly felt like all 40,000 fans who’d attended the game were in our car, packed as tightly as sardines in a can and smelling about the same. Standing shoulder to shoulder and sweating profusely, nobody on that train was comfortable.

And yet, everybody’s spirits remained high, despite the tight quarters and the heat. We commiserated together over the shared experience and celebrated together over the great game we’d all gotten to see. For 20 minutes, that car was a different sort of Friendly Confines—it may not have been comfortable, but we were all in it together.

The Bible tells us that spiritual fellowship is meant to be like that—that brothers and sisters in Christ are supposed to remain unified in good times and bad times, bound together by a shared love for the Lord and for each other. Fellow believers rejoice together and mourn together, experiencing life’s joys and its pains as a spiritual family. We do this because the one who holds us together looms so much larger than whatever experiences life throws at us—as long as we have Jesus, we know we can make it.

If we follow the Bible’s command and the Lord’s example, then the church is a place where believers of all backgrounds and circumstances find encouragement, comfort, and hope. For when we come together in Jesus’ name, the church should become the friendliest of confines.

August Reading Log

This was an odd month in that I actually did a lot more reading than this log indicates.

Let me explain. I subscribe to two excellent magazines, The New Yorker and Texas Monthly. Both magazines are renowned for their in-depth journalism, insightful looks at culture, and stellar writing. However, they are both also known for looooong articles, the kind of pieces that require 30, 45, even 60 minutes of undivided attention if you're going to read them in one sitting. As such, it doesn't take long for old magazines to start piling up in my nightstand, saved for those rare moments when I have extended time to kill and the brainpower for a hard-hitting look at the war in Ukraine.

So I decided August would be a month devoted to working through the pile, article by article, as well as all my old saved articles on Instapaper (some of which, embarrassingly enough, had been in my queue for 3+ years). The morning hour normally spent in a novel or biography would instead go to these articles until my to-read pile was no more.

And I did it, with 2 days to spare! So just two books this month (both, not coincidentally, about the love of books, because absence makes the heart grow fonder), along with the long-awaited conclusion to my journey reading every issue of Fantastic Four. Back to a more normal log next month, but here's August, including the best articles I read.

Favorite Articles:

The Secret History of Family Separation by Caitlin Dickerson, The Atlantic.

Country Music's Culture Wars and the Remaking of Nashville by Emily Nussbaum, The New Yorker.

The Queen of Highland Park by Tom Foster, Texas Monthly

Everyone in Stephenville Thought They Knew Who Killed Susan Woods by Bryan Burrough, Texas Monthly

Elon Musk's Shadow Rule by Ronan Farrow, The New Yorker

Reading Through the Fantastic Four- (6th series) #1-46 and several one-shot issues

There's a balance that a good writer needs to strike with the Fantastic Four. They're Marvel's First Family, so the book should be nostalgic and sentimental, but not saccharine. They're fundamentally explorers, not superheroes, so the book should be suffused with wonder and imagination, though not at the expense of storytelling. And at the end of the day, they're a preposterous, only-in-comics mixture of cosmic grandeur and screwball comedy, so the book should have a requisite amount of both head, heart, and humor.

It's not an easy task, especially with legends like Stan Lee and Jack Kirby—so revered in the industry that their nicknames are literally "The Man" and "The King"—providing the archetype. The best creators—think John Byrne, Mark Waid and Mike Weiringo, and Jonathan Hickman—manage to strike the balance, at least most of the time.

Dan Slott, who just finished his 5-year run on Fantastic Four last year, nailed it, forever adding his name to the Mount Rushmore of FF creators. Over 50-some-odd issues (counting various special one-shots) he manages to reset a few ill-considered decisions by previous creators and put his own stamp on the team, all while ensuring that this feels like the FF you know and love. In a way that even as gifted a storyteller as Jonathan Hickman didn't, Slott gets this team and this book, delivering stories which veer between cosmic and comedy without ever feeling disjointed or inconsistent.

Character-wise, his most notable move is giving Ben Grimm his own immediate family, first by finally letting Ben and his longtime (I'm talking all the way back to Lee and Kirby) love Alicia Masters tie the knot, and then by having them adopt two kids (a Kree and a Skrull, naturally.) Making the Thing, who has been great with kids since his nephew Franklin was calling him "Unca Ben" back in the 1970s, a father is a stroke of genius, and feels natural almost immediately.

Speaking of kids, Slott also leans into the idea of Franklin and Valeria as older kids now (Franklin is firmly in his teenage years and Valeria is a preteen.) For Franklin especially this offers new storytelling opportunities, as we get to see him sulk, rebel, and be selfish in ways that feel entirely appropriate for his age, and it gives a new dynamic for the family. Slott's take on Valeria isn't as nuanced—she is largely off to the side throughout his run—and I'll admit I miss the fun of having a 4-year-old who was smarter than Reed Richards running around. Nevertheless, in Slott's hands the two kids are fully main characters now; long gone are the days of Reed and Sue rushing into battle without the writer accounting for the whereabouts of their children.

Plot-wise, there's too much to list in detail. But to name just a few storylines, we see Doctor Doom almost get married to his new herald, Victorious (a Slott creation), the revelation of a planet whose people actually caused the cosmic ray storm that birthed the FF, and a war against the Watchers' age-old enemies. It's a lot, but never as overwhelming as Claremont or Hickman's biggest stories.

As I conclude my years-long quest to read every FF comic, the Dan Slott run was a great note to end on, and I'm sorry to see him go. He understands the things that matter most about my favorite superhero team: imagination, family, and fun. What more could you ask for from a comic book?

1,000 BOOKS TO READ BEFORE YOU DIE: A LIFE-CHANGING LIST by James Mustich

First, a disclaimer: I didn't actually read this book, at least not every word in its 870 pages. But I did turn every page, read the summaries of all the books I recognized, and write down a lot of its recommendations on my 24-page-and-counting book wish list.

The title of James Mustich's book makes its purpose rather self-explanatory, so let me just tell you how the book is laid out. Alphabetized by author, he offers a brief review of each book on his list, a list of other notable books by that author, as well as an Amazon-esque list of books you might like if you like this one. The end result is that, if you want to read every book mentioned, it ends up closer to 10,000 than 1,000.

Mustich does a good job hopping between genres, while certainly giving the most attention to novels. He also offers a great deal of variety in terms of time period, going from Greek tragedies to Victorian novels to even a few notable 21st century offerings. Nearly all the classics make the cut, and there are also enough surprises to keep things interesting.

If I have any criticisms of this fairly straightforward book, it's that with some authors, Mustich gets a little too cute with which book he selects—for example, choosing a collection of John Updike stories instead of Rabbit, Run. But these sorts of exceptions are unusual enough that the list remains reliable if not unimpeachable.

For anybody wanting a literary wish list, this is a great book to check out from the library. I did, and my shopping list is the better (or at least the longer!) for it.

I'D RATHER BE READING: THE DELIGHTS AND DILEMMAS OF THE READING LIFE by Anne Bogel

I love books. Shocker, I know. I love reading books, borrowing books, buying books, flipping through books, and thinking about books. I love bookstores and libraries, bargain bins and rare first editions. I love thinking about books from my childhood and wondering about what books I'll read in my twilight years. I love lists of classic books, lists of upcoming books, and everything in between. I just love books.

So this collection of essays from Anne Bogel, whose Modern Mrs. Darcy blog is a celebration of "the reading life" was an absolute joy. From recollections of her local library growing up to the story of her day spent as a bookseller, every essay drips with her unabashed love for reading. This was the perfect cup of warm milk every night before bed, a comforting collection of snapshots that, to borrow an overused phrase, made me feel seen.

If you're somebody who spends an inordinate amount of time scanning the bookshelves when you got to a new friend's house, this book is for you. If you're somebody who Googles "local bookstore" every time you travel to a new city, this book is for you. If you have a designated "books" line in your family budget, this book is for you.

Now, you'll have to excuse me. I have some books to read.

Part of the Family (Friday Devotional)

 

Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and members of his household. 

- Ephesians 2:19

For the last few days, we’ve had some interesting visitors in our household: three baby chicks, which we’re watching for my brother while his family is spending the weekend at the beach. My kids have been super excited; every morning has started the same way, with them sprinting into the playroom to check on the chicks. When I’ve picked up my son from school, his first question has been how the chicks are doing. And during bedtime prayers, when the kids give thanks for all the people they love, the chicks have made the cut more than once.

But as much as my kids have enjoyed having them over, those chicks have not become members of our family—when my brother comes to get them tomorrow, we’re not going to fight him over them or demand that they stay. It was fun to have them for a few days, but they were never intended to be a permanent part of our household. They were visitors, not family.

The Bible tells us that, for as long as we are held captive by sin, our relationship with the Lord is like that. Our flesh separates us from God so that, despite being created by God in his image, we are more like visitors than family, more like strangers than sons.

But the cross of Christ gives us an avenue to adoption, a way by which we can enter the family of God. By accepting the grace of God and believing in His Son’s atoning death on the cross, we are not only given new life, but a new identity in him. Faith in Christ welcomes you into the family of God.

Guests are nice and strangers are interesting, but family is forever. So may you know God as Father and, by faith, rejoice at the privilege of being his child.