Everything appeared crisp and clear. Every turn of the soccer ball. Each individual ray from the line of street lights. Each object in that small park with its own particular detail appeared enlarged, magnified even, as an insect observed through a magnifying glass. On this particular night I viewed the world in high definition.
I could see clearly the expressions of happy couples on the benches skirting the park. Each girl's joy uniquely revealed by means of her own individual facial features. And their counterparts each brandishing that same soul-searching gaze that every man knows, whether as a genuine reflection of his inner man or a contrived act, the perfection of the artful diversion designed to mask deeper motives.
Not too far off was an enclosed area where there was a football match underway. Nothing too serious, but scrappy football at its best. As I studied these teenagers, nothing escaped my vision. The highlight of the night was a brief scuff over a disputed goal. With perfect clarity I had seen the ball bend just inside a black shoe marking the goal post. From my distant vantage point, I had not missed the shooter's frustration with the disagreement over a legitimate goal. Nor did my eyes miss the knowing look on the goalie's face as he adamantly argued against the goal. With force he made his case, but his eyes were revealing. Taking pleasure in the other boy's fury, he was well aware the goal was true. Despite the intensity of the argument, these friends were soon back to the game with angry words a thing of the past.
Panning across the park to the street view, cars moved rhythmically through the large roundabout. Here the traffic flows similar to a Handelian movement. Each musician knows when to play and with what dynamics, and, subsequently, each knows precisely when to rest. Weaving in and out, each vehicle smoothly made its round and flowed on to the next destination. I marveled at the clarity of brake lights fading off to distant streets. Taxis and buses, bikes and strollers filled the square and carried on with their part in the sonata.
This is life. No better and no worse than it always has been. To them, this life is simple. To understand it is to flow with it, to be caught up in the various melodies and crescendos that life offers. Yet sitting on my park bench seeing it all afresh through new glasses, I see with greater clarity, but still cannot seem to follow the rhythm.
Across the street is a cafe. This is where the men go. They watch Champions League football, talk business, and relax with old friends over a coffee. And before they were old enough to do so, their fathers were here. And one day their sons will come here. In the same way, the teenagers playing football have always done so. Every summer they can remember was spent forever perfecting that shot, practicing this move, and playing with a certain team.
And here I sit. On the outside looking in. My father did not have a favorite cafe where everyone knew his boy. That special one in which we watched our first football game together. When I go to a cafe no one knows me, or my father or his. I did not grow up watching Champions League or playing football. None of these boys or their brothers did I run around with on endless summer nights. As a virus invading the body seems my existence in this African life. It is unknown, foreign. To the natural inhabitants and defenders of the body, it could appear a threat or simply be ignored.
Though a new pair of glasses offers greater clarity of vision, at least one great composer has created beautiful music without such an advantage. This piece I am now learning is driven by a different beat; a new style for me, but hardly new in itself. All great movements find their beauty and rhythm in an ordered complexity, a culture that each individual musician must perfect over a lifetime.
Life is too intricate to enter into on a whim. Adjustments must be made gradually. Unwritten rules discovered with experience. Dynamics explored through feel and often dictated by varying circumstances. An outsider cannot step in here and play first violin. He must defer to those who are more familiar with the part.
With new glasses and new vision, I look over the sheet music with greater clarity. Details come into focus that were once too blurry for me to make out. The most important of which is scribbled in the right hand corner: "second violin". Those who play second violin recognize and accept that sight is only one piece of the pie, a pie that will never be natural to them. Those who continue striving to play first violin without the talent to do so merely bring undo negative attention on themselves from the surrounding symphony.
At no other time in my life has my vision become more clear. Had I not come to live in Africa, my eyes would have never been good enough to see just how much of the world was still blurry. I can now see more clearly the rhythm of life, though I struggle to follow. I can see the unique qualities of the beat, but it does not flow through me. And I can read each individual note as it lies on the page, though I will never play them as well as my neighbor. But, at least now I am on the same page.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Holiness: What Do I Really Long For?
I have thoughts about God. But, of course, so do you. You see, all of us have thoughts about God. Even my friends who subscribe to the new atheist movement. We suppress the truth of God as revealed by His invisible attributes, His eternal power and His divine nature. Or, we submit to Him as Lord and Savior.
Now despite my suppression or submission, if my thoughts about God are not proper than they're pointless. For if my thoughts about God are not the primary thoughts of my life, they really don't count for much. Unless my thinking on God is my best thinking, my most inspired thinking, and the thinking that produces my most aesthetically-oriented word choice to reflect the beauty I claim to grasp, my thoughts on God are not true to life. For, if He truly is who He has revealed Himself to be, my only response must be to fall before Him with Isaiah and cry out "WOE! Woe is me for I am a man of unclean lips."
And it is true. But it is only the first leaf to fall in a vast forest of flaming, golden trees. Not only are my lips unclean, but consequently my heart. And if my heart is unclean, clearly the countless desires that pass to and from that heart each and every day are as tainted as the once white snow that is now an eyesore with its bountiful amalgamations and reproductions of the various shades of brown compounded by each successive plowing; snow that was once gifted with a glorious purity.
Now despite my suppression or submission, if my thoughts about God are not proper than they're pointless. For if my thoughts about God are not the primary thoughts of my life, they really don't count for much. Unless my thinking on God is my best thinking, my most inspired thinking, and the thinking that produces my most aesthetically-oriented word choice to reflect the beauty I claim to grasp, my thoughts on God are not true to life. For, if He truly is who He has revealed Himself to be, my only response must be to fall before Him with Isaiah and cry out "WOE! Woe is me for I am a man of unclean lips."
And it is true. But it is only the first leaf to fall in a vast forest of flaming, golden trees. Not only are my lips unclean, but consequently my heart. And if my heart is unclean, clearly the countless desires that pass to and from that heart each and every day are as tainted as the once white snow that is now an eyesore with its bountiful amalgamations and reproductions of the various shades of brown compounded by each successive plowing; snow that was once gifted with a glorious purity.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Stick to the Playbook
As a student of the world, I can't help but continually make observations and notes about everything. In professional sports, the best players spend hours pouring over game tape. They look for strengths, weaknesses, and overall quirks of the opponent. As Christians, I say we study our opponents, but we also must inspect our own team from time to time.
Now, like anyone else, I have a strong preference for my team. I am convinced that my team has a leg up on the others, namely the truth. But every team has its weaknesses. Some teams have more while others have less. Some teams could be great, but they lack identity.
A football team built for a strong ground-and-pound run offense will not flourish by spreading out five wide and expecting the quarterback to become Joe Montana. Likewise, a team built around Peyton Manning, is at a large disadvantage if he gets injured and the onus to win falls on the ground game and defense. So it is with the team whose identity is built on certain principles, but when its opponent comes Sunday morning the players begin to model a different style of play.
The same is true now in the faith world. As followers of Jesus, we have what other teams don't: grace. Our lives are to be saturated in the joy of knowing this amazing, unique grace. Our doctrine should be built on the immovable, unshakable foundation of grace. The greatest gift Christians have been given is grace. So why in the world would we ever want anything else? How could we start taking pages out of the other teams' playbooks?
This mindset has particularly detrimental consequences for the work being done in the Arab world. For too long we have been guilty of replacing Islamic hadiths, rules and fear with our pharisaical, Christianized ones. We teach Muslim background believers to forget the 5 pillars of Islam and hold to the pillars of Christianity:
1. Read your Bible every day.
2. Pray before every meal.
3. Give 10%.
4. Fast, but not during Ramadan.
We take one checklist for building up good works, and unwittingly exchange it for a whole new checklist. We go from fear to fear. But what does the Messiah say? “Perfect love drives out fear!” We must stop instilling fear and move to providing hope. This is the whole point of the Old Testament. “Look, you Jews, there is hope! His name is Messiah! And He is coming!!” And then we get to the New Testament and do we see, “Look! It’s Jesus! Now do this, this, that, and a few of these things and he’ll love you”?
No! This isn't the way it works. Jesus says, “If you love me, you will obey what I command.” He does not say “You must love me AND obey my commands.” My pastor in college once said, "Good works don't lead us to heaven, they follow us to heaven." The writer of Hebrews says, "Now where there is forgiveness of these things, there is no longer any offering for sin." (10:18) There is only one thing we can do to please God and that is trust Him as Abraham trusted Him. From the point of salvation we have nothing to offer. There is nothing we can do to please God or to lose His favor. Jesus has already done it all for us.
John tells us that “He came to the world to save the world, not to bring judgment upon the world.” Judgment is for later and Jesus comes to make our judgment a joke! You see, Muslims believe the Day of Judgment will be a large scale with weights comparable to your bad deeds and your good deeds. But, as Anselm of Canterbury has pointed out, one bad deed is not just a bad deed. One bad deed is rebellion against an infinite God and can not be covered over with any number good deeds. So when the Christian walks up to the proverbial scale and sees the many, many bad deeds sitting on the one side, he can rest in his assurance that the infinite weight of Jesus' good work more than compensates the evil. In fact, when Jesus’ good work sits on the opposite side of the scale, every shameful act I ever committed is transferred to Jesus’ scale.
It is grace! Grace is the whole idea behind the good news. That a loving, but uncompromising God wanted so much for the world and its inhabitants to be restored to Eden, to perfection, that He gave His one and only Son to pay for us. He pays our price. And He pays at His own expense. He doesn’t go out and take someone else’s trading chips to cover our cost, He pays with His own blood. This is grace. That we get what Jesus deserved and He takes what we deserved. We deserve to die, but live. He deserved to live, but died. And being the one perfect, acceptable sacrifice, God raised Him to life completing the perfect sacrifice.
Many act like discipleship begins with rules, I disagree! Discipleship begins with a proper, all-encompassing understanding of grace. That where sin once reigned, grace abounds all the more. Not the more I sin, the more pergatory I must endure or the more good points I must obtain. It is only by God’s grace that we are changed. Only by His grace that we are made new. That we follow Him, love Him, obey Him, tell about Him. Only by grace can one man say, “I am the chief of sinners!” and yet be assured of his reserved place in eternity where He will enjoy God forever.
No, our team is strong. I choose to stick to my own playbook, thank you.
Now, like anyone else, I have a strong preference for my team. I am convinced that my team has a leg up on the others, namely the truth. But every team has its weaknesses. Some teams have more while others have less. Some teams could be great, but they lack identity.
A football team built for a strong ground-and-pound run offense will not flourish by spreading out five wide and expecting the quarterback to become Joe Montana. Likewise, a team built around Peyton Manning, is at a large disadvantage if he gets injured and the onus to win falls on the ground game and defense. So it is with the team whose identity is built on certain principles, but when its opponent comes Sunday morning the players begin to model a different style of play.
The same is true now in the faith world. As followers of Jesus, we have what other teams don't: grace. Our lives are to be saturated in the joy of knowing this amazing, unique grace. Our doctrine should be built on the immovable, unshakable foundation of grace. The greatest gift Christians have been given is grace. So why in the world would we ever want anything else? How could we start taking pages out of the other teams' playbooks?
This mindset has particularly detrimental consequences for the work being done in the Arab world. For too long we have been guilty of replacing Islamic hadiths, rules and fear with our pharisaical, Christianized ones. We teach Muslim background believers to forget the 5 pillars of Islam and hold to the pillars of Christianity:
1. Read your Bible every day.
2. Pray before every meal.
3. Give 10%.
4. Fast, but not during Ramadan.
We take one checklist for building up good works, and unwittingly exchange it for a whole new checklist. We go from fear to fear. But what does the Messiah say? “Perfect love drives out fear!” We must stop instilling fear and move to providing hope. This is the whole point of the Old Testament. “Look, you Jews, there is hope! His name is Messiah! And He is coming!!” And then we get to the New Testament and do we see, “Look! It’s Jesus! Now do this, this, that, and a few of these things and he’ll love you”?
No! This isn't the way it works. Jesus says, “If you love me, you will obey what I command.” He does not say “You must love me AND obey my commands.” My pastor in college once said, "Good works don't lead us to heaven, they follow us to heaven." The writer of Hebrews says, "Now where there is forgiveness of these things, there is no longer any offering for sin." (10:18) There is only one thing we can do to please God and that is trust Him as Abraham trusted Him. From the point of salvation we have nothing to offer. There is nothing we can do to please God or to lose His favor. Jesus has already done it all for us.
John tells us that “He came to the world to save the world, not to bring judgment upon the world.” Judgment is for later and Jesus comes to make our judgment a joke! You see, Muslims believe the Day of Judgment will be a large scale with weights comparable to your bad deeds and your good deeds. But, as Anselm of Canterbury has pointed out, one bad deed is not just a bad deed. One bad deed is rebellion against an infinite God and can not be covered over with any number good deeds. So when the Christian walks up to the proverbial scale and sees the many, many bad deeds sitting on the one side, he can rest in his assurance that the infinite weight of Jesus' good work more than compensates the evil. In fact, when Jesus’ good work sits on the opposite side of the scale, every shameful act I ever committed is transferred to Jesus’ scale.
It is grace! Grace is the whole idea behind the good news. That a loving, but uncompromising God wanted so much for the world and its inhabitants to be restored to Eden, to perfection, that He gave His one and only Son to pay for us. He pays our price. And He pays at His own expense. He doesn’t go out and take someone else’s trading chips to cover our cost, He pays with His own blood. This is grace. That we get what Jesus deserved and He takes what we deserved. We deserve to die, but live. He deserved to live, but died. And being the one perfect, acceptable sacrifice, God raised Him to life completing the perfect sacrifice.
Many act like discipleship begins with rules, I disagree! Discipleship begins with a proper, all-encompassing understanding of grace. That where sin once reigned, grace abounds all the more. Not the more I sin, the more pergatory I must endure or the more good points I must obtain. It is only by God’s grace that we are changed. Only by His grace that we are made new. That we follow Him, love Him, obey Him, tell about Him. Only by grace can one man say, “I am the chief of sinners!” and yet be assured of his reserved place in eternity where He will enjoy God forever.
No, our team is strong. I choose to stick to my own playbook, thank you.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Tomorrow
Darkness surrounded me. Reality began crumbling beneath my feet as I vacillated between two worlds. Seeking to immerse myself in bliss, my only remaining memory, I found myself fighting harder as other memories returned slowly reshaping my world. The more desperately I reached for this bliss the easier it slipped through my fingers. Grasping for everything I had known only moments before, an unbearable siren cut through the fog. At first unrecognizable, it seemed to come right up next to me.
Reality set in at 6:05am as I flung my arm at the alarm clock. Groaning, I turned over seeking one last hit of bliss. I would give anything for one last high. But it was over. I sat up and stared for several minutes through the bedroom window. Darkness had firmly gripped each stronghold of the night hours, but now a lone ray of light beamed across the far mountain peak signaling the long awaited invasion.
Jogging the old, littered streets I watched as the consuming shadows retreated one by one with the arrival of the dayspring. One ray after another appeared over the horizon as I ran the empty streets of this new, unknown city. With each mile the retreat was more sure as the strength of the day grew. A new day. Light had come to conquer the darkness.
Three years ago, I walked these very streets. I knew nothing of the culture, the language, or the people. I was just one more ugly American walking streets that didn't belong to him. Just one more inexperienced college student trying to wrap his mind around an ever-changing world. One more young, wide-eyed Christian claiming to know a thing or two about the Great Commission, but time would determine the level of that commitment.
As I jog into the new day, I am thankful for a new breath, a new morning, a new opportunity. Just as today will not be the same as yesterday, I am not the same person as three years ago. I am not the same American. Not the same student. Nor the same Christian.
What a difference three years can make. I can’t help but wonder, will I visit this city again in three years? And what then will I think of myself? Perhaps there will be disappointment over the battles lost and ground ceded. Or, perhaps like today, I will praise God for the growth He has steadily wrought in my life. Time will tell, but there is much to do these next few years. One thing is true, I have not reached the proverbial “there”. I never will in this life, but that won't stop me from running hard.
Paul tells us to “work out [our] salvation with fear and trembling.” How I long to see my salvation continue down this path of fear and trembling! As I look back three years, the road was difficult, but as I am continually made to be more like my Savior, the fight is worth the casualties. The road is long and there are always more miles to cover.
Today, with all its struggles and victories, will not last. Tomorrow is forever a ripe, new day.
Reality set in at 6:05am as I flung my arm at the alarm clock. Groaning, I turned over seeking one last hit of bliss. I would give anything for one last high. But it was over. I sat up and stared for several minutes through the bedroom window. Darkness had firmly gripped each stronghold of the night hours, but now a lone ray of light beamed across the far mountain peak signaling the long awaited invasion.
Jogging the old, littered streets I watched as the consuming shadows retreated one by one with the arrival of the dayspring. One ray after another appeared over the horizon as I ran the empty streets of this new, unknown city. With each mile the retreat was more sure as the strength of the day grew. A new day. Light had come to conquer the darkness.
Three years ago, I walked these very streets. I knew nothing of the culture, the language, or the people. I was just one more ugly American walking streets that didn't belong to him. Just one more inexperienced college student trying to wrap his mind around an ever-changing world. One more young, wide-eyed Christian claiming to know a thing or two about the Great Commission, but time would determine the level of that commitment.
As I jog into the new day, I am thankful for a new breath, a new morning, a new opportunity. Just as today will not be the same as yesterday, I am not the same person as three years ago. I am not the same American. Not the same student. Nor the same Christian.
What a difference three years can make. I can’t help but wonder, will I visit this city again in three years? And what then will I think of myself? Perhaps there will be disappointment over the battles lost and ground ceded. Or, perhaps like today, I will praise God for the growth He has steadily wrought in my life. Time will tell, but there is much to do these next few years. One thing is true, I have not reached the proverbial “there”. I never will in this life, but that won't stop me from running hard.
Paul tells us to “work out [our] salvation with fear and trembling.” How I long to see my salvation continue down this path of fear and trembling! As I look back three years, the road was difficult, but as I am continually made to be more like my Savior, the fight is worth the casualties. The road is long and there are always more miles to cover.
Today, with all its struggles and victories, will not last. Tomorrow is forever a ripe, new day.
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