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I think the emphasis for May in my daughter's Sunday school class is "helping others." At least, that's the gist I got from the calendar she brought home from church which listed different ways to help others on different dates. Things like "pick strawberries for a neighbor" and "clean your room on National Clean Your Room Day."
But, among the different dates was one that made me stop. May 15th. National Chocolate Chip Day.
Can that be right, I wondered? So, I did a little checking and yep, the National Confectioners Association has dubbed May 15th, this Thursday, to be National Chocolate Chip Day.
Normally, I'm not all that into, you know, pagan holidays. But this is one I could really sink my teeth into (he, he). I also liked the encouragement of "helping others," so ... what to do with chocolate chip cookies? Turns out, my church needs some for their cookie ministry (the deacons take cookies after church each Sunday to each new visiting family because, I don't know, nothing woos the lost like delectable brown sugar, butter and pieces of cocoa delight).
Then, the words started echoing in my mind. Cookie. Ministry. Cookie. Ministry. So, here's my invitation (to girls and guys alike--both my husband and my brother-in-law make some mean chocolate chip cookies): Will you join my family in celebrating National Chocolate Chip Day? But, remember, we want to do ministry. So, maybe you could take some cookies to your church staff. Or to the homeless. Or to your neighbors that you haven't met yet. Or to those people at work that kind of annoy you (just make sure they don't read this blog).
I know that there are some big problems in this world. And cookies won't solve them. But, who knows? Maybe we could shine just a little of God's love in our own little corners of the world--one cookie at a time.
By the way, here's a recipe celebrating National Chocolate Chip Day that I'm going to try. Maybe Ted can perfect it after he wraps up that chicken wing thing.
 I'm a big fan of intergenerational friendships among Christians. I've often heard someone my age say, "I want to get to know an older believer to glean from his wisdom and experience." But sometimes wisdom comes from the young. An excerpt from my personal blog.
Soft-spoken with gentle eyes, 16-year-old Zach Hunter doesn't look the part of an abolitionist. But beneath a quiet exterior beats a fiery heart akin to William Wilberforce or Martin Luther King Jr. In the past four years, Zach has written two books, founded an anti-slavery campaign and spoken all over the world.
This morning I sat at a table with Zach and his mom. When asked if he ever gets to be a "normal" 16-year-old, Zach shrugs and says, "Sometimes." His next words challenge me. "A lot of times kids my age are going out and doing things I don't want to do—because they're not right." He's talking about seeing certain movies or going to prom, things most teens—even Christian ones—probably wouldn't think twice about.
Zach has a keen sense of right and wrong—a quality that led him to start "Loose Change to Loosen Chains" when he was 12. The student-led campaign continues to raise thousands of dollars each year to end slavery. Gentle and humble (remind you of anyone?), Zach isn't your average powerhouse influencer. And yet his fierce dedication to God's calling on his life and willingness to sacrifice are inspiring a generation to take action. In a CT article, he says of his generation:
"I want us to make history—and I don't mean to get our names in some history book, but to be known as a generation that did something for God, cared for the poor, and totally stopped slavery."
And God is blessing Zach's willingness to commit his youth to this cause. Zach's book Be the Change surprised publishers with the number of copies sold. And his upcoming book Generation Change will be accompanied by parent-youth events to help parents empower their children to follow God's calling on their lives.
I'm glad for examples like Zach. God challenged me to a higher standard through him. You can catch Zach's wisdom on his blogs at breakawaymag.com.
We've got a pretty civil blog here. For the most part, I'm impressed with the level of discourse among those leaving comments on The Line.
But in other areas of the blogosphere, things are not so pleasant.
One thing contributing to the degradation of communication in forums and blogs is anonymity. When nobody knows who you are, there is no accountability. Consider what Dennis Prager wrote about this issue: Some might argue that anonymity enables people to more freely express their thoughts. But this is not true. Anonymity only enables people to more freely express their feelings. Anonymity values feelings over thought, and immediate expression over thoughtful reflection.
There is not one good reason for any website, left or right, or non-political, to allow people to avoid identifying themselves. Anyone interested in serious political discourse, or in merely lowering the hate levels in our country, should welcome the banning of anonymous postings.
... I doubt I am alone in reading fewer and fewer comments sections because of the low level of so many of the postings. Just as bad money chases away good money, moronic postings chase away intelligent ones. I have come to the point where I even read fewer comments posted about my own columns.
Tim Challies also spoke about this a few weeks back. In his blog post, he quotes Os Guinness, who said that in the past, "those who did right and those who did not do wrong often acted as they did because they knew they were seen by others. Their morality was accountability through visibility."
Tim went on to say that God "helped me understand that accountability is closely tied to visibility and that personal holiness will come not through anonymity but through deep and personal relationships with my brothers and sisters in the local church." He concludes: And so this is my challenge to bloggers and to those who comment on blogs: make yourself accountable through visibility. Commit yourself to purity of heart and to only speaking or writing what is honoring to God. And then ensure that there are people who know you, who read your words, who will lovingly exhort and correct you when you do not keep this commitment. In this way we can honor God and maintain a focus on the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I think this is a great idea. The bloggers on The Line are all held accountable to someone; no blog post is published without first being reviewed by someone else on the team. We discuss when someone may have gone too far, or may have poorly chosen words. Some blog posts are irredeemable; some never get published.
There may be a place for anonymity, for holding yourself unaccountable to others. But there are benefits to being known, to have your words associated with your name. Benefits that, as Dennis Prager points out, contribute to more a more civil exchange of ideas. Benefits that, as Tim Challies points out, contribute to personal holiness.
My name is Ted Slater, and I approved this message.
HT: Jack Hudson
In "Dear Disillusioned Church," twenty-something Katie Galli reviews two books about the church. Though the books are targeted at young adults who may feel at odds with some aspects of the American church, Galli expressed frustration with the authors' failure to encourage their readers to meaningfully connect with the body of believers: An oft-disillusioned (and hopelessly idealistic) 20-something myself, I picked up Life After Church: God's Call to Disillusioned Christians (InterVarsity), and Dear Church: Letters from a Disillusioned Generation (Zondervan). I figured that I'd find writers who share my frustrations. But I was also hoping they would push me toward a deeper and richer relationship with the church -- and in this, I was left unsatisfied.
Instead of encouraging young people to invest in and commit to their local churches, the books essentially give twenty-somethings a free pass to abandon the "failed experiment" of the church and start something new (like a home groups). This kind of attitude frustrates me. I wrote about it in "Designer Church" and "Quarantining a Generation."
Despite the church's flaws, we are wrong to pridefully reject it. Whether or not the church is satisfying our personal tastes or expectations, we are responsible to be part of it simply to be obedient to Christ. Galli points out we shouldn't look down our noses at church just because it operates in an orderly (and American) way and bears marks of tradition. Yes, we're Americans. We multitask all day long. Efficiency is one of our top cultural values. I, too, am pragmatic. I'd like to use Sunday morning to worship God, to get a few pointers on how to improve my relationship with Jesus, and to reconnect with community. But every Sunday, the first words heard at my institutional church are, "Blessed be God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit." And I'm reminded that we gather weekly not to hear a practical talk on how to better live out our faith or to provide a venue to tell our friends about Jesus. We gather corporately to worship God, to celebrate the redeeming work of Christ on the cross, and to remember that our lives are not about us.
And that kind of weekly reminder is far more valuable than a constant diet of cynicism or a critical attitude toward the church. Katie concludes with this: The church can indeed be bureaucratic, inefficient, and, at times, hopelessly outdated. It remains one of the most embarrassing institutions to which one can belong. But it has also given us a 2,000-year legacy of saints and social reformers, and a rich liturgy and theology -- the very gift 20-somethings need to grow into the full stature of Christ.
It's much easier to simply take a side in the culture wars than to actually engage the issues we fight over. I confess that I've found myself taking sides perhaps too quickly on perhaps too many occasions.
So how, then, might we engage culture ... Christianly?
In his article "v. Culture," Boundless author Jonathan Dodson suggests six great ways to start: prayerfully, carefully, biblically-theologically, redemptively, humbly and selectively.
So what do you think? How might these six things help you experience a more robust, redemptive, critical and theological engagement with culture?
I submitted a post on a popular Christian Singles forum recently, and was disappointed that the first comment essentially dismissed me because I'm married.
Sadly, that reminds me of something 24-year-old Berkeley activist Jack Weinberg said in 1970: "Don't trust anybody over 30."
I'm trying to understand why there's this initial distrust of those who've moved to a different season of life.
Perhaps it's because too many married people have said insensitive things to their non-married friends. Maybe it's because they're years away from living single, and so what they say is naturally kind of irrelevant, right? Maybe non-married and married folks just tend not to hang out with each other, and therefore don't find much common ground with each other.
I've been married for five years now, after having been unmarried for 36. I confess that I don't rub shoulders with as many single adults as I used to, and have forgotten some of the pain of wanting to be married, but not being married. I've also got going against me that I never really felt excluded from my Christian community (my church) because of my marital status; I admit that I don't really grasp what that feels like for many singles, especially older singles.
But I do want to. I do want to continue being sensitive to those who haven't made the transition at the altar. I want to continue learning what singles find relevant, what issues you're struggling with, how you might legitimately take offense at an insensitive word casually spoken or written. While I have plenty to draw from, having personally experienced a broad spectrum of single life, I'm compelled to keep learning more.
Are you able to help me in this area? Do you have any ideas on how we can cut through whatever it is that tends to dull our ears to what each other is saying?
Our friend Joe Carter at The Evangelical Outpost just announced a contest for young bloggers which I'm sure you'll want to enter. All you have to do is post a blog providing the best (or one of the best) response to the following question: If the medium affects the message, how will the Christian message be affected by the new media?
Here's Joe's lead that explains the assumption in the first part of the question: As communication theorist Marshall McLuhan argued, the tools we use to communicate a message can shape that message in ways we may or may not intend. If this is true then Christians have a duty to critically evaluate the effect of our media choices on our message. Do our choices of media forms allow the message to remain Christian? Or are the tools with which we communicate at odds with the message of the Gospel?
In my blogging experience, there's one aspect of the Internet that can prove particularly harmful to the Christian message ... anonymity. Ben Domenech writes in his article "Blogging: The History and the Spirit" that "[n]o one can look you in the face over the Internet — which means that it's tough to establish trust, conversations can get angry a lot quicker, and civility is often in short supply."
There's just something about the virtual world that lowers our inhibitions.
It reminds me of how I react in my car when someone cuts me off. To me, people aren't people behind the wheel, they're just in the way of the place I want to be. Maybe it's the same online. The people sitting at their computers are just idiots in the way of my own personal revelations about truth. And that's just unChristian.
I'm not sure if this is what Joe's getting at with his question but still, it's true.
I was surprised to hear a report on Christian radio the other day that said those who don't attend church prefer a church to look like ... well, a church. According to the Baptist Press article: By a nearly 2-to-1 ratio over any other option, unchurched Americans prefer churches that look more like a medieval cathedral than what most think of as a more contemporary church building.
The findings come from a survey conducted by LifeWay Research for the Cornerstone Knowledge Network (CKN), a group of church-focused facilities development firms. The online survey included 1,684 unchurched adults -– defined as those who had not attended a church, mosque or synagogue in the past six months except for religious holidays or special events.
Ultimately, this preference probably won't impact someone's decision to attend church. Early Christians met in homes and held secret, underground meetings. There was no building style associated with "church." And some of the most utilitarian buildings today hold the most thriving congregations. Still, the unchurched's preference for a traditional church building is interesting. "Quite honestly, this research surprised us," said Ed Stetzer, director of LifeWay Research and LifeWay Christian Resource's missiologist in residence. "We expected they'd choose the more contemporary options, but they were clearly more drawn to the aesthetics of the Gothic building than the run-of-the-mill, modern church building."
Stetzer suggested that the unchurched may prefer the more aesthetically pleasing look of the Gothic cathedral because it speaks to a connectedness to the past. Young unchurched people were particularly drawn to the Gothic look. Those between the ages of 25 to 34 used an average of 58.9 of their preference points on the more ornate church exterior. Those over the age of 70 only used an average of 32.9 of their 100 preference points on that particular church exterior.
This brings up again the issue of art and Christianity. Even someone who doesn't understand or have a relationship with God has an inkling that His dwelling place should be grand. While multipurpose buildings may be practical, they lack aesthetic evidence of God. I remember hearing a lecture by a woman who had participated in communion as a little girl. The bread was always warm and fresh baked, the drink rich and flavorful. She bemoaned how this beautiful experience of celebrating the Lord's body and blood had been replaced with stale crackers and little plastic cups of juice.
This study seems to be a similar cry for a return to the beauty and grandeur of God.
Boundless published a very powerful article this week called "Grace and Gay Men." The author, Randy Thomas, talks about an area where the Church has faltered: Over the past 20-plus years there have been valiant efforts to humanize the AIDS issue with regard to African American community, drug abusers and orphans in Uganda. The thing is, when it comes to gay identified males ... the corporate Church has been estranged and reluctant.
Thomas talks about his own experience of losing his former partner to AIDS -- the grief he experienced and his community of gay friends who helped him through the difficult time. He also talks about his fear of waiting to find out if he had AIDS -- a process that took months before his tests finally showed negative results.
Thomas points out that his gay friends warned him about being too promiscuous, they comforted him during his loss, and ultimately, they loved him. The true love he found in his friends was helpful to him, while "the rantings of TV preachers fell on deaf ears."
He concludes his article by pointing out something interesting, and perhaps uncomfortable for some of us: Do you think Christ used a gay man's hands to wipe away my tears at 3:15 a.m. in a Nashville restaurant, as I mourned the loss of Ron and feared for my own life? Do you think Christ was using a gay man's hands to hold my own as I grappled with "inconclusive" test results? Is it possible that Jesus goes places that the Church is sometimes afraid to?
I would really encourage you to read this article. It's powerful and asks some good questions. What do you think?
Maybe you've had one at work or in your neighborhood or school or homeowners association: a meeting where someone tries to get the group to come to a consensus about something.
You gather together in groups, led by a facilitator, to determine what the best course of action is.
The thing is, sometimes these exercises are a facade. Sometimes the "facilitators" already have their minds made up, and they are manipulating the group into concurring with their decision.
An article we published this morning on Boundless shows you how you can identify whether a meeting like this is sincerely intent on understanding what the group wants, or whether it's a cynical attempt to manipulate the group into going along with what someone else wants.
I've been part of one of these meetings. And I wish I knew then what I know now.
 With the arrival of spring, the Girl Talk blog is offering its annual public service announcement on behalf of modesty. Stores are filling up with their spring and summer lines. (Having just returned from New York City, I know this well. My sister forgot her coat, and there was nary one to be found!)
In Girl Talk's 2007 article, "Fashion and Following the Savior: Part 1," Carolyn Mahaney writes: More than just the latest style, spring and summer (in particular) usher in a vast array of immodest and indecent clothing. Thus the racks and shelves at the nearest mall are crammed full of body-revealing attire.
We must consult God's Word rather than the fashion magazines. We must take God with us when we go shopping. And what's interesting--and freeing, I might add--is that God's clothing style for women doesn't change from season to season. He presents his fashion standard to us in 1 Timothy 2:9-10:
Women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire, but with what is proper for women who profess godliness -- with good works.
Dressing fashionably is a value for me. And finding cute clothes that are modest often requires additional time -- or saying no to something that looks a little TOO good. But as Carolyn's daughter Nicole points out, clothes themselves are not the only thing to consider when it comes to modesty: Immodest dress is more than simply wearing skimpy clothing. Often, it's an expression of pride, the opposite of humility. Simply put, immodest clothes are pride on display. In his book Humility: True Greatness, my dad explains that "The proud person seeks to glorify himself and not God, thereby attempting in effect to deprive God of something only He is worthy to receive."
Outward modesty is an expression of a heart and soul seeking to bring glory to God. But taking the Timothy 2 challenge doesn't mean you have to dress like a pilgrim. Web sites like Downeast Basics and Christa-Taylor, which are comprised entirely of beautiful (and modest) women's fashions, make it easy to be stylish and modest.
(The picture is of my sister Sarah in the $10 coat we finally found her at Conway's in NYC.)
Things are heating up in the Middle East. OK, they're always hot, and they always seem to be heating up. But with Syria drafting reserve military and amassing forces along its border with Israel, something new and alarming seems afoot.
I asked Boundless author Elisabeth Adams, who lives in Jerusalem, to provide us an update and let us know how we can pray for her and Israel. This is her reply:
It's hard to explain how my perspective has changed after living in Israel for over three years. My personal life is less cushy; my surroundings undergo many more fluctuations -- and I'm becoming very matter-of-fact about it all. The Israelis have had much more practice in this than I have, and for them, the cycle from normal to life-and-death issues and back to normal again is much shorter than it would be back in the States. It has to be. Restaurants are bombed, and reopen. Wars come, and go. It's not a question of whether more violence will come, but when. I'm peaceful in knowing that I'm where God wants me to be, but not all Israelis have that luxury.
If there's anything we can offer "for the peace of Jerusalem," it's prayer. If there's anything I would request, it's that you seek out God's perspective on Jerusalem, and pray in harmony with that.
Why am I asking this? There are many people who have nothing but criticism for this nation; there are many that have nothing but praise. It's as if Israel is only a symbol, rather than a collection of living, breathing, faulty and beloved human beings. How much better to note how many times and in what way the nation of Israel appears in the Bible. God sees them with love, frustration, and long-term vision. He sees you and me as real, multi-dimensional people. My earnest desire is to see the Israelis in the same way.
This is not how the world media sees Israel. You might need to be aware they have never been favorable to Israel, and that historically, the Arab nations have had much more media savvy than their Israeli cousins. I'm not saying that all the news that comes directly out of Israel is correct. I am suggesting that when you hear a news report, you ask who's talking.
Which brings us to the latest news reports. Yes, some Syrian troops are massing at the northern border of Israel. The flashpoint appears to be the recent assassination of Hizbollah terrorist Imad Mughniyeh. The Syrians say they fear that if Hizbollah retaliates on Israel, Israel will in turn attack Syria. Syria's alternative to fearing Israel might be to cease relations with Hizbollah. But from where I sit, Israel's alternative to ceasing the war on terror is ceasing to exist.
This is their home. They don't have the U.S. to go back to when times get hard. I do. They don't have 50 states in which to spread out: They've only got one, and it's roughly the size of Massachusetts. They're not a superpower; their super power lies with God. Thankfully, some Israelis recognize this fact. Tonight at 6 p.m., mass prayers of repentance and entreaty for safety will be going on simultaneously in 40 cities. We'd love to have you join us!
Last year when the Boundless team was laboring over our DTR (Define The Relationship) Assessment, we were hoping to help young adults find clarity in their relationships. From time to time we hear from those who've taken the test, and whose relationships have benefited as a result. Here's an e-mail we received from one such young woman just this afternoon: Dear Boundless,
Well, it was two more weeks before I had the guts enough to bring up the issue. When I finally did it was not as bad as I thought. The following is a recap of how it went down:
I felt the need to clarify our relationship because people were being to wonder why both he and I were busy at the same time. After being teased a bit at church I decided that something needed to be done.
We has just spend a large amount time together watching a movie, having dinner, and enjoying each other's company just talking and laughing. When I was ready to leave after "hanging out" he walked me out to my car and I simply asked him, "What are we?" Finally I told him that I wanted to be able to tell people something when they asked and was tired of not feeling like I was being honest with people as well as myself. He then took up the ball and told me that he liked me and that he would like to date me. To which I responded with a "yes." I felt kind of dumb for waiting as long as I did because when I told one of my friends, she said, "Finally, I thought that he would never ask!"
It's weird because after we agreed that we were officially dating, we talked about what we would say when people asked. We agreed that we tell them that we had been seeing each other least a month or two, but now we were officially dating ( aka, " boy-friend and girl-friend").
Moral of the story: Don't be afraid to ask. The worse that could happen is that he clarifies with a no.
I think for women, we are scared to bring up the issue because we don't feel like it is our place. I also think that many of us struggle with the idea of losing a close friend when we ask for clarification. I believe that it is a necessary risk that we all need to be willing to take regardless if your are a man or woman.
I took the risk, and it paid off. Be willing to take the risk: Sometimes you will win and sometime you won't, but you will never know unless you try.
Thank you so much for this resource. I have referred many of my friends to it and they love it.
How about you? How have you found our free DTR Assessment helpful? Feel free to either leave the specifics below (be as verbose as you'd like) or send your story to editor@boundless.org
In a recent comment, I defended my having married Ashleigh, a fine woman who happened to be 12 years younger than I am.
Intending to be an encouragement to women not to *intentionally* postpone getting married for sake of career, education, travel, and whatnot, I added: And perhaps my story may serve as a warning to some women who are *intentionally* putting off marriage for some particular reason; they may be passed by by a man her age, who may be looking for someone with more vigor and youthfulness.
My intention was not to make older single women feel bad for not being married. In fact, I've previously affirmed older single women who, through no apparent fault of their own, remain unmarried: In *many* other instances, though, it's just a mystery. Why are my friends Ann, Debbie, Jan and Karen still single? I don't know. They're wonderfully loving, godly, insightful, hospitable, deferential women ... but still single after all these years. And that breaks my heart. These women deserve grace and honor, and not blame.
While my intention was not to be hurtful to older single women, my wife and some friends have told me that what I wrote could be interpreted as being insensitive.
So here's my humble request: Please help me understand how I could have communicated in a more sensitive manner. Feel free to provide an example or two. Remember, I'm a guy, and in some ways am clueless about how women think and feel. So try to be patient with me as you bring your correction.
I've had a couple of interesting conversations over the last couple of weeks.
The first was with my sister-in-law. After discussing the upcoming presidential primary in our state, she told me, "Well, I talked to my Dad about it and, after hearing what he had to say, it really made me reconsider who I'm going to vote for."
Huh, I thought. Talk to your dad about who to vote for? I hadn't done this. In fact, hadn't even thought about it. Fast forward a couple of days. I'm chatting with a girlfriend about whether she plans to enroll her child in a private Christian school.
"My husband and I are still talking about it," she told me. "But my parents are coming up this weekend and we really want to talk to them about it."
Again ... huh. Neither my husband nor I talked to our parents about our kids' education.
So, for the past couple of weeks, these two conversations have been bouncing around my head. Then, while reading Sacred Parenting by Gary Thomas, I read the following quote from Peyton Manning, NFL quarterback and former Super Bowl MVP. Later in life, when someone asked Peyton how he felt earning more for playing one game than his dad earned for an entire season, Peyton replied with a clipped, "I don't compete with my father. I learn from him."
Even Ted goes and talks about asking his dad for counsel (though that was about leftovers).
Which got me to wondering, do I still learn from my parents and mentors? Am I still teachable? Or, have I left behind godly counsel like I left my childhood home?
I'm doing a study of Proverbs by Beth Moore and this issue of accepting godly counsel is coming up quite a bit. We need to get over the idea that we know it all, Moore said in this week's lesson, and, instead, we need to be "small on ego, big on effectiveness." The fact is that I don't know it all. The fact is that there are wiser, more mature Christians all around me and I should be grateful, not avoiding, their counsel. Especially on the important issues of life.
To be sure, there need to be guidelines. I should only seek the wisdom of those with godly fruit in their lives. And I should test their advice against Scripture. But as God tells me, He has provided me with counsel and He wants me to trust Him. I need to make sure I do both.
I wrote this blog post a year ago, and felt it should be shared again....
* * *
 My roommate Mike would come home at the end of the day, and inevitably he would talk about Libby, a beautiful godly young woman from church. She was different, and he was intent on winning her heart. And doing it the right way. She was worth it.
He regularly met with Libby's father, who knew of Mike's interest in his daughter. They would go out for breakfast and study Scripture together. In time, Mike earned the father's trust, and he gave his blessing for Mike to court his 20-year-old daughter.
Mike was the first man Libby had ever dated. Their courtship was marked by a purity and passion and tenderness rare even among Christians.
The most innocent among us, children, recognized something special in Libby, and they loved her for it. Her wedding party in March 2003 included seven flower girls and a junior bridesmaid, and she was given a wedding shower attended by 20 friends under 10 years old.
My new bride and I had a lot in common with Mike and Libby. We attended the same small group at church, we served together on the church's worship team, Libby and my wife were both pregnant with their first babies, and we all shared a love for the Lord.
I remember one particular small group meeting. I remember that Libby was sitting next to Mike on a couch, Mike stroking her hair lovingly. The group leader asked us what we were thankful for. When it came to Libby's turn, her response was a simple, yet profound one: Heaven.
 A few days later, Mike and Libby went out of town to celebrate their first wedding anniversary. The weather on the way back was miserable and stormy. There was some skidding. There was another truck. There was a crash. And in an instant, Libby and her preborn baby Sam had moved out of this life and into that place for which Libby was most thankful: Heaven.
It's been four years to the day that Libby left us. Nothing has ever affected me more than her death. Not my bout with cancer. Not my two broken engagements. Nothing. For weeks I'd find myself at work weeping over my desk, considering the tragedy of such a beautiful life cut short. I'd lie in bed at night weeping, thinking how Mike must have felt, having been at the wheel when he lost control of the truck. I lost more tears in those weeks than in my previous 35 years combined.
I still listen to a recording of Libby's funeral from time to time. And every time I do, I'm once again moved by the loss experienced by Mike and by her family. But I'm also convicted. I'm convicted by the way Libby lived her life faithfully for the Lord. I'm convicted by her purity and child-like love for the Lord, and for the way she shared that love with those around her.
A year before her death, Libby providentially recorded a "scratch" vocal track for a song my band was working on. The song, written by a friend of ours, speaks of her love for our church. You can listen to that song, sung by Libby, here. A key line in the song, "I'm pointed toward heaven just knowing you," is true of Libby's life.
 Near the end of Libby's funeral, after a number of friends had recounted their memories of Libby's life, choking back tears Mike said, "You guys are looking at a lucky man. All the stories that you've heard this morning are about my wife. And I got to be married to her."
He continued, "Almost one year after we were married, Libby received not just promises, but the fulfillment of them. The great and loving God who had created her, the personification of beauty, summoned her to Himself with this divine accolade: 'Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Master.' Now, Libby -- my wife, Chris and Suzie's youngest daughter, Jennifer and Christopher's sister, and many of your friend -- is standing before that feast. She is receiving love unparalleled. And it is only that that offers me consolation. Because who would have thought a year ago that I would be doing this? Who would have thought that our fairy tale story would end so quickly? I didn't. I love Libby Anne. And I am so glad that we had that year together, and that we have eternity to look forward to."
Libby's favorite song, by Chris Rice, was sung at the close of her funeral. "And with your final heartbeat, you kiss the world goodbye, and go in peace and laugh on glory's side. Fly to Jesus. Fly to Jesus. Fly to Jesus and live." Fly to Jesus and live, truly.
Libby remains an inspiration for me, though she and her little boy have been dancing with the Lord for four years now. May the remainder of my days look more like the days Libby lived: with purity, joy, and a sweet love for the Lord that lingers like costly perfume.
I wish you could have known my friend Libby.
So you sinned this week against someone? I'm not surprised. Sinning is what sinners like you and like me do. Instead of being surprised by our sin, or the sins of others, we should learn how to deal with it rightly.
C.J. Mahaney, best known for his passionate awe of the cross of Christ, blogged recently about wrong ways to deal with your sin, and right ways. Wrong ways include using the word "if" (e.g., "I'm sorry if you were offended"), providing lengthy explanations of why you sinned, requesting understanding for your sin, being indignant about being caught, and so on.
Here's how he describes a right way to confess sin: A confession that is sincere and pleasing to God will be specific and brief. I have learned to be suspicious of my confession if it's general and lengthy. A sincere confession of sin should be specific ("I was arrogant and angry when I made that statement; will you please forgive me for sinning against you in this way?") and brief (this shouldn't take long). When I find myself adding an explanation to my confession, I'm not asking forgiveness but instead appealing for understanding....
Genuine conviction of sin is evidenced by a sincere, specific, and brief confession of sin, without any reference to circumstances or the participation of anyone else. When I sin, I am responsible for my sin, and the cause of my sin is always within my heart and never lies outside my heart.
The thing is, such honest and vulnerable and responsible confession of sin is actually liberating, because there is One who is able to thoroughly forgive sin -- any sin. Because of the death of the only righteous Man ever to have existed, sin may be completely forgiven. And C.J. recognizes the hopefulness of this situation: I want my confession to express genuine sorrow and gratefulness to God for the mercy I experience because of the substitutionary sacrifice of his Son for my sins on the cross.... I hope my confession of sin is the sincere and specific confession of one genuinely convicted of his sin, sorrowful about his sin, and amazed at the grace of God provided for the forgiveness of sin.
I'm freshly convicted of how I deal with my own sin. I'm looking forward to being specific and sincere as I confess my sin to my wife, and to others whom I sin against. And I'm looking forward to enjoying the benefits of being a child of the God Who Forgives.
HT: Peacemaker Ministries's new blog, Route 5:9
I'm enthused about every article we publish over on Boundless, but I'm especially enthusiastic about the lineup scheduled for the week leading up to Resurrection Day (a.k.a. "Ishtar Easter").
Authors include George Halitzka, Elisabeth Adams (writing from Jerusalem), Jim Tonkowich and Carolyn McCulley. And these normally adept authors have written abnormally powerful articles. Here are a few paragraphs from George's article, a modern retelling of the resurrection account: Maggie drove.
Peering through tearful bleary eyes, she passed down street after street without a destination. She wound her way from Simon's apartment to the river; finally found herself at the end of the Third Street Bridge, stopped at a green light without seeing. Honking traffic piled up behind her. A driver hollered out the window and flipped her off; she hastily turned right.
After years of futile confinements in psychiatric wards; years of useless medications that only sapped her life of everything good; years of crying for relief from the relentless delusional voices -- one day she met the Master. He instantly diagnosed her and cast the seven tormenting demons into the Abyss. She was no longer "Crazy Mary Magdalene." Maggie -- as she preferred to be called -- had devoted herself to serving the man who gave her life back.
And now ... he was gone, without a grave to remember him.
She climbed out of her car. Somehow (she couldn't say how) she'd ended up at the cemetery again. She stared blankly towards the open coffin; had a vague idea of closing it and leaving her flowers on top. Maggie stumbled across the grass, carrying the bouquet.
When she reached the gravesite, she broke down; simply cried with soul-wracking sobs on the edge of the vacant pit. Then finally spent, she rested her cheek against the cool wood of the coffin, lacking desire to ever move again.
And here's an excerpt from Elisabeth's article: At first it's hard to imagine anything so joyful happening at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, traditional site of the Resurrection. But if I meld research and imagination, probing deep underground and back two thousand years, I reach an abandoned quarry just outside the walls of Jerusalem. From its craggy east wall juts a knob of stone rejected by the builders. Tombs are cut into its west wall, tombs in the distinctive contemporary style, with rows of niches radiating from a vestibule entrance. I scan lightly over the decades, seeing Jewish believers gathering here until 66 AD, shortly before all Jews were expelled from Jerusalem by the Romans. I see the emperor Hadrian systematically building pagan temples atop holy sites all over Jerusalem, including this one. But look: not quite 200 years later, Roman Christians are excavating here, moving tons of landfill, stone walls and pavement in order to build a dome named for the supreme event of their faith: Anastasis -- "resurrection."
When I make my way through the press of people at the door and step into the gloomy interior, I am surprised to hear music coming from deeper inside. It seems that the whole world is here, too, and at the little chapel-within-a-chapel which marks Jesus' empty grave, an Easter service is going on. Expectant pilgrims press closer and closer, and from the balcony, organ and choir music is rising and expanding inside the great dome of the basilica. I close my eyes, drinking in Handel's "Largo," and experiencing that rare moment of joy that comes when you suddenly know you are in the right place at the right time, doing the right thing.
But the place I experience the Resurrection the most vividly is an airplane seat thousands of feet above the Atlantic Ocean....
A portion of Jim's article: And yet, we argue, if Jesus suffered on the cross and paid it all, why should I have to suffer? Couldn't he bring about my full salvation without the suffering part?
I suppose so, but it's a cross, not a magic wand. Whether we like it or not, just as Jesus "learned obedience by what he suffered" (Hebrews 5:8), you and I must learn obedience by what we suffer. While our salvation is entirely the work of God through the suffering of Jesus, our suffering is somehow required as well. God is sovereign, but you and I are not zeros.
This brings me back to Paul's words in Colossians 1:24. Could it be that just as my suffering is required in my own salvation, my suffering is also required in the salvation of others?
I'd include an excerpt from Carolyn's article, but she's still laboring over it. She's providing a meditation on the cross, which I have no doubt will be powerful.
While I encourage you to spend a few minutes on Boundless to read each day's articles, I unashamedly petition you to not miss the articles being published March 17-21. They'll provide a wonderful means to prepare for the commemoration of our Savior's dying and coming back to life.
I'm going to this year's Resolved conference, and am really looking forward to it. It's taking place in Palm Springs from June 13-16.
It's not a "business trip," in that we won't have a booth and aren't a sponsor. It's a time for me, personally, to pause and reflect on the richness of God's character. I'm really looking forward to the expository preaching, the times of worship and the fellowship.
The folks putting on the conference took its inspiration from young Jonathan Edwards's resolutions to honor the Lord through his thoughts and actions. Speakers include John MacArthur, John Piper, C.J. Mahaney, Steve Lawson, Rick Holland and Randy Alcorn. Though I anticipate being inspired by each of them, I'm especially looking forward to hearing C.J., as I suspect he'll preach about the mysterious cross of Christ.
If you're thinking of going, or have already decided to go, let me know. It'd be cool to meet up.
Well Done
I appreciate the dynamic conversations we have on The Line. The breadth of perspectives is thought-provoking, pushing us to think beyond our Christian assumptions.
I've got a suggestion on how to improve the discussion even more: Use the "sandwich" technique. Here's how it works.
When you find yourself disagreeing with either the original post or one of the comments, first find some common ground, something you agree with. When you write your comment, start by affirming the person you're responding to. Then state your disagreement, trying to do so without impugning the person. Finally, end with affirmation. So you've got an affirmation-disagreement-affirmation sandwich.
Here's an example.
"I appreciate, James, how you make Scripture a priority, how you look to it for truth, and how you are really wrestling with its meaning here. I have to disagree, though, on your interpretation: That verse is more an invitation to marry than a command to do so. Such an interpretation speaks of the Lord's grace, and not so much of His being a dictator. See what I mean? Anyway, I look forward to the ensuing discussion!"
By using this technique, the person you're interacting with doesn't feel like you're dismissing them out of hand, but that you're indeed interested in understanding them and furthering a conversation. And so the discussion continues, perhaps with one or both sides being able to improve their understanding of an issue.
I've found this technique very helpful in my marriage. If I sense a bit of "attitude" in my wife's response to someone, I might first let her know that I can see how difficult the situation is, that the other person truly has done or said something offensive. And then I encourage her to consider how her heart is reacting; perhaps it's a bit too harsh or judgmental. And then I try to again affirm that resisting such a negative attitude is hard work, and that I understand why she might find herself grumbling.
What do you think? Is it do-able? Or is it merely psychobabble? I personally think it's very helpful, and do hope to see more of it used around The Line. Thanks for thinking about it with me! |
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Badly Done
I'm finding the conversations on The Line to too-easily spiral into ad hominem attacks and close-mindedness. And, frankly, that gets old.
I might post a provocative blog, and then within moments someone finds one little thing that they disagree with. They may agree with 95 percent of it, but they knee-jerk against the precious nugget they've unearthed that they find emphatically unacceptable. Like I'm supposed to congratulate them on their insightful discovery of my incompetence and heresy!
And so they jump right in: "Ted, you ignorant slug. Your exegesis is repulsive, your allowing heretical comments to be published is irresponsible, your mandating pet ownership is intolerable, and your use of the term "sandwich" is insensitive to those who don't like sandwiches. Badly done, Ted. Badly done."
And the conversation is poisoned.
The next comment may either pile on with "this is just creepy talk" or may rebuke the first comment with "you're a communist, and probably not even a Christian."
Soon we're talking about the relationship between honey bees and Marx, and how so-and-so is a Hitleresque mud baby. And I just feel like deleting the entire thread, turning off comments on The Line altogether, and even canceling our agreement with TypePad to host our blog.
I remember one post I'd written, in which I expressed my passionate admiration for an aspect of God's creation. And, predictably, the very first comment was a downer. It began "I cannot stand ..." and ended with "we have some theological differences." That is not the way to win someone over to your position.
Instead, Suzanne that person should have just sat on her hands and bit her tongue, allowing those who appreciate the Lord's kindness to relish the moment.
Your communication doesn't have to be this way. You could try just a bit harder to say something nice once in a while, rather than always hunt for the negative. You could count to 10 before pressing the "post" button and count to 20 before entering in those hard-to-read letters on the confirmation page.
So I implore you: Shape up or I'll ban all of you. I mean it. |
Focus on the Family holds pretty traditional beliefs about Scripture, God, government and family. As a ministry of Focus on the Family, Boundless also tends to be fairly conservative. That should surprise nobody.
I've noticed that a good number of those leaving comments on The Line hold more "progressive" beliefs about these things. Comments that are "pro-choice" and pro-Democrat, that hold much of Scripture to be myth/fable/metaphor, that are in favor of redefining marriage to include same-sex couples, that advocate global warming alarmism, that reject principles of biblical dating/courtship, that denigrate those who practice media discernment, that question the efficacy of the gospel, and so on -- these types of comments are not uncommon on The Line.
Personally, I'm fine with that. I'm happy that readers across the ideological spectrum are engaging the ideas being brought up by the Boundless team.
But I'm wondering if the consistent resistance to the ideas presented in our articles and posts is off-putting to those on the more conservative end of that spectrum. We want to serve all of our readers, but I'm concerned that we may be alienating some by allowing such disagreeable comments through.
So here's the question for our more "conservative" friends: Do you find some of the comment discouraging? Do you find yourself inclined not to visit The Line because of the argumentative nature of some of the discussions? Or are you more drawn in by the feisty tone of post-blog commentary, challenged and strengthened by the lively back-and-forth?
Please understand, dear readers -- this is really a question I have for our more conservative/traditional readers, especially those who don't comment much. I'd prefer that our more "progressive" friends sit back and observe for right now.
I sit stunned as the closing credits roll. Though I've seen The Lord of the Rings series in its entirety several times, once again I find myself speechless. Sam has just lovingly gathered his youngest child into his arms, followed his wife and other child indoors, and pulled the door shut behind him. And as the music swells, I'm overwhelmed by what I've once again experienced.
The credits list those responsible for overseeing production, those who manage the sound design, those who man the cameras, those in charge of special effects. The credits roll for those who wrote and performed the music, for the soloists, for the foley artists, for the hair stylists, the costume designers, the set designers, those who created the miniatures. The credits continue rolling for the actors, the assistants, the caterers, the physicians, the storyboard artists, the stunt artists, the horse trainers. The credits continue scrolling up the screen for minutes.
It really is overwhelming to experience the fruit of such intentional collaboration.
One person could not bring such a monumental work as The Lord of the Rings into being. A handful couldn't do it. A hundred weren't able to do it. It took thousands of people hundreds of thousands of hours over the course of years to bring Tolkien's masterpiece to the screen.
Over this past weekend I finished reading the manuscript for Alex and Brett Harris's forthcoming book Do Hard Things. In it, they identify five "kinds of hard" that, when engaged, propel us into the realm of the extraordinary. The third "hard" is the power of collaboration: "How to do hard things that are too big for you to do alone."
Reflecting now on The Lord of the Rings leads me to wonder what great things I might be able to accomplish in collaboration with others. It certainly takes a team to pull off the Boundless webzine, blog and podcast. Couldn't do that on my own. And I've seen great things when folks at church come together to work on some common goal.
But I wonder what other vision I could gather together that requires collaboration to bring to fruition. I wonder if there's something the Lord would have me invest my life in that simply can't be accomplished on my own. Hm.
In yesterday's culture section of The Washington Post, columnist Ellen Ullman reviewed a book titled Against the Machine: Being Human in the Age of the Electronic Mob by Lee Siegel. Ullman reports that Siegel rails against the wild, wild web for it's "shameless glorification of indiscriminate self-expression."
While reading it I thought, Does "electronic mob" and "shameless glorification of indiscriminate self-expression" characterize our blog?
Every quarter the bloggers from the Boundless Line have a sort of "state of the blog" meeting. In it, we review our ministry and growth goals but for the most part it's a roundtable discussion. And the most interesting ones usually revolve around the comments.
For good or ill, we err on the side of allowing a free discussion. Meaning we publish probably 99 percent of all comments. Yes, there are occasions when we choose not to publish, as a handful of you have noticed. But for the most part, we let 'em all through.
We do this because "we are eager to facilitate conversation" (as is stated in our "Post a Comment" disclaimer language). We want a free flow of ideas and actually encourage what Siegel dismisses as the "participatory culture." I mean, consumer participation is one of the strengths of a blog, right?
Well, most participation anyway. There are the occasional egregiously "offensive, vulgar, overly personal, cynical, disrespectful, irrelevant, redundant or unnecessarily contentious" comments (egregious being the key word here).
But even with clear standards such as these, it's still a subjective practice. So if you find one of your comments on our editing floor, please don't take it personally. Just know that all we're trying to is calm the electronic mob.
Tim Challies' article, Involuntary Community, is a good challenge against "church shopping" and reminded me of a passage from one of my favorite books, The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis.
In Letter 16, Lewis has the demon Screwtape write a letter to Screwtape's demon nephew, Wormwood, advising him to attack a certain human's loyal attendance to a church: "Surely you know that if a man can't be cured of churchgoing, the next best thing is to send him all over the neighbourhood looking for the church that 'suits' him until he becomes a taster or connoisseur of churches.
The reasons are obvious. In the first place, the parochial organisation should always be attacked because, being a unity of place and not of likings, it brings people of different classes and psychology together in the kind of unity the Enemy desires. The congregational principle, on the other hand, makes each church into a kind of club, and finally, if all goes well, into a coterie or faction. In the second place, the search for a 'suitable' church makes the man a critic where the Enemy wants him to be a pupil."
I remember this passage so well because I've never been in a "parish" system and didn't see much use for them. But Lewis showed me one definite benefit -- when the church is based on geography and not choice, I must love all my brothers and sisters in Christ, not just my chosen favorites.
I still prefer the congregational system. I want to be able to attend a church that I know teaches the Word. But I've also seen the benefits of a gracious heart. Five years ago when my husband and I committed to our church, the preaching was biblical and wonderful, the music program was not. As a lifelong lover of music and singer, that was hard. But we put aside our preference and worshiped right along. Now, the teaching is still biblical and the music program is flourishing. God taught us that service is more important than shopping.
So are you a taster or a server? A critic or a pupil? Maybe it's time for a little JFKism: Ask not what your church can do for you....
Today I published a TrueU article about evangelism. So did Boundless. Let's discuss.
My views on evangelism have changed a bit over the years. I wrote about it awhile back, recounting my days as a mini-evangelist: When I was small, I was quite the evangelist. "Repent or face damnation!" I shouted to my eight-year-old friends. "The end is near, and hell is hot!" I preached to the heathens on the monkey bars. Well, maybe I wasn't quite that forceful. But I really was an evangelist. To be honest, Billy Graham and I were pretty much rivals.
But as I talk about in my most recent article, I've come to learn that evangelism should be much more holistic than shouting "repent" to people as they pass me by. The evangelism that God has called us to requires all of us -- what we say, what we do, what we think. As I think about evangelism, I need to think about showing a non-believer someone who is trying to become more like Jesus. In order for me to be the evangelist God asks me to be, I must live a life that shows the world that I am trying, that I am walking on this path because I believe that the way of Jesus is truth.
Eric Simmons makes some of the same points in his Boundless article, "I Want to Eat Your Soul." He says that our evangelism is about what we say but also about how we say it: Scripture would teach us be bold and be humble. Every time we speak to an unbeliever, may we concentrate on how we say things as much as what we're saying. May we concentrate on our attitudes and your motives. May the words I speak be marked by a humble — not arrogant — orthodoxy. I need to remember that my motives need to match my message.
This is such a good point, because as I mentioned before, many non-Christians have a poor view of the church. We're seen as insincere and only out to "get people saved."
Our desire as Christians should be to show people the necessary and best way to live. We should want to be in relationship with people (Christians and non-Christians) because we all need relationships. We should want to help people understand that Jesus is who we should try to be like -- that life with Him (while it may be hard work), is so very worth it.
In case you missed it, our most recent podcast featured Kara Schwab telling us about her dog's penchant for "returning to its vomit." You can listen to the podcast here; it's episode #2, about 21:45 into the show.
While you're there, please "subscribe" to The Boundless Show. It's free, and by subscribing you'll be sure to never miss an episode.
Anyway, here are three photos of Kara with her dog. Though Wrigley is beloved by those most close to him/her/it (perhaps Kara can provide clarification), the animal is not quite the cute puppy I referenced a couple of weeks ago.
(FWIW, I have to confess that I'm a lot like Wrigley. Amazingly, Someone loves me regardless of my penchants.)
In "Single Mother in Need of Help," Amanda Cate opens up about the challenges of being a single mom -- a status she never expected. She writes: I remember the joy of sharing dinner as a two-parent family and what it was like to fall into bed exhausted at the end of the day with a warm body by my side. I remember taking quiet baths, being able to run out to the store for a quart of soy milk just because I could, and knowing that after a bad day I had someone to talk to over the age of three once evening came. Life wasn't perfect, but I was happy during the short time that I knew what love, marriage, and a family had to offer. But not by any choice of my own, I lost it.
I think it's a human thing to assume people are OK. We're hesitant to step in and help because we don't want to hurt someone's pride -- or more often we're just too busy. But Amanda's perspective challenges us to truly see the most vulnerable members of society -- the elderly, the poor, the sick, single mothers. Amanda is startlingly honest about her own need: But sometimes I wonder what the people around me think when they see me and my children. Is it pity, compassion, judgment, concern? Do the happily married or single girls around me have any idea what it's like to parent alone? Do they even wonder at all? I've tried to explain to my friends and those around me, but very few seem to truly understand the pain, hard work, and heartache of it all. Even fewer have reached out to offer a helping hand.
Yet a helping hand is exactly what I and other single moms need. While we may put a smile on our faces and act like everything is OK, we honestly need others to reach out to us in practical ways.
I'm thankful Amanda had the courage to write the truth about her need. I am challenged to think of ways I can help people I know who are going through a trying time. At some point it will be me; and that's what the Body of Christ is all about.
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction. (James 1:27)
"Baby Boomers are no longer the future of American religion. As they grow older, they are rapidly becoming its past. The future now rests with younger adults." This is how Robert Wuthnow kicks off his book called After the Baby Boomers: How Twenty- and Thirty-Somethings Are Shaping the Future of American Religion. He continues: Baby boomers are now moving past their mid-life crises, becoming empty nesters, and retiring. To be sure, their influence on American religion remains strong. With the graying of America, they will be the most numerous group in the typical congregation. They will have more time to serve on committees and more money to put in the collection plate. They will also be the members who lament that things are no longer as good as they were in the 1960s (or 1980s). They will not be so sure that change is a good thing, especially if it is being advanced by someone considerably younger than they are. Baby boomers will also increasingly be high-maintenance members. Besides populating the pews, they will require sick-visits from the pastor. As they die, or move away to retirement communities and nursing homes, they will leave the leadership of American religion in other hands.
Maybe you've already had a chance to dig into this book by Wuthnow, the professor who directs the Center for the Study of Religion at Princeton University. I'm only just now starting it, but I'm finding it to be one of the most helpful for anyone who cares about the future of the local church. Wuthnow makes a good case that the generation coming behind the boomers is not very well understood--especially in the context of their faith and relationship to the local church. He writes: In the absence of solid information, speculation about the religious needs and interests of the next wave runs rampant. Self-styled cultural experts have been arguing that young adults will be the leaders of a great spiritual revival. ... Other forecasters are placing their bets on technology. Persuaded that religion is somehow a function of gadgets and electronics, they predict an Internet revolution in which congregations will be replaced by Web sites and chat rooms. Still others see in their crystal balls that young adults will flock to jeans-and-sweatshirt ministries where everything is warm and supportive -- as if that were something new.
The truth is, these futuristic speculations make headlines, but seldom make sense. The reason is that they are the product of someone's imagination, rather than being grounded in any systematic research -- or, for that matter, a very good understanding of young adulthood and social change. Pastors and interested lay leaders can titillate themselves reading such speculation in religious magazines. But they need to realize how flimsy this sort of information is.
Only a few pages into this book I'm struck by just how significant this generational shift is going to be in the local church. How's your local church facing this shift?
Jacob Douvier, whom we see commenting regularly on The Line, has started a series on his blog highlighting A Puritan Catechism. Questions addressed include:
- What is the chief end of man?
- What rule has God given to direct us how we may glorify him?
- What do the Scriptures principally teach?
- What is God?
This systematic collection of 82 doctrinal points was compiled by Charles H. Spurgeon, a man I greatly admire. Feel free to stop by Jacob's blog to leave a comment as each point of doctrine has its day, or visit Spurgeon.org to read them all in one sitting.
John Fuller (who happens to be both a friend and vice president of Focus on the Family's Audio and New Media division) wrote a powerful blog post a few days ago reflecting on a beautiful life that's come to a close for now.
Just as God shined through the young girl's helplessness, Christ has regarded my own helpless estate ... and shed His own blood for my soul....
He's given me permission to re-post it in its entirety below....
* * *
It was a cold and wintery Colorado afternoon, although the sun did hang in the partly cloudy sky. Traffic on the interstate buzzed by, oblivious to the proceeding inside the church. The only odd thing someone might have noticed was the crowded parking lot -- not typical for a Monday.
There were more people present for this memorial service than usually occupy the sanctuary. The number of folks gathered spoke something to me of how her life had touched so many in just a few short years.
We came together to ... what? Pay tribute to a life well lived? Celebrate the "home going" of a saint? Honor the family? Share their grief? It wasn't apparent, even as we entered the great room. There was a somber tone, a conspicuous quiet, a lack of the usual laughter and conversation that takes place before a service.
The video screen at the front showed pictures of the girl, at various stages of life. Shots of her at the hospital, obviously physically afflicted in some way. There she is with her doting mother. Now she is a toddler being hugged by a relative. And the wheelchair ... an ever-present part of her life. She spent all her years confined to a bed or in that wheelchair.
Katie suffered a particularly cruel sort of physical condition. Severely affected, she was very small and most fragile. Her head fell to one side, her eyesight unfocused on anything close ... she seemed to be gazing off at something, someone in the far distance. She communicated with a simple smile, or by an utterance in an unknown dialect ... sometimes grunting or groaning in such a way as to seem in agony. Those close to Katie knew her communications. They could tell in some way what it was she wanted them to know: her joy at someone's kindness, or her displeasure at the country music being played on the radio.
Unable to do anything on her own, she was caught in a body that wouldn't work as God intended the body to work. Not in a way our society understands or values. It would be easy to look away, to ignore the figure there in the chair, to wish she would not intrude into one's comfort zone. Katie's humanness pushed through her broken frame and confronted everyone with the courage to look closely at her, to talk to her, to stroke her. This much was clear by the dozen or more who shared in the memorial service.
The pastor opened up the time together, indicating that this was to be a time of reflection upon who she was and what Katie meant to us. As individuals shared, it was apparent that this girl who lived into her teens, about 15 years longer than doctors predicted at her birth, possessed the fullness of humanity, and of God's beautiful design. She had touched many, many people. Tears were shed, some smiles and even a bit of laughter.
Many paid homage to her parents, who with undying hope and fathomless love tended to her needs and refused to hide her away. They included Katie in their family routines and events, which included trips to the store shopping, church services and even the burrito place. They deserved the kind words, the affirmation. They have been examples of how to parent a special child, how to offer unconditional love, how to honor the Lord's handiwork, even when we don't understand it.
One comment that stood out, which sounded out a loud and eternal truth to me, was something to the effect of, "God shined through her helplessness." Oh yes. That seems so True to me. My soul said, "Learn a lesson here. Don't regale in your accomplishments, your abilities, your successes. Take a good hard look at your values and see what God considers valuable ... a life of helplessness, a life which can be used to reflect His glory and His love. Don't think for a moment that He needs anything you can offer in order to bring glory to Himself. On the contrary, He is best honored in our weakness and helplessness."
Another thing that struck me. "She didn't own anything." Of course not. Few 15 year-olds have much in the way of material things. But this girl had even less than most. She couldn't hold onto a book, a special blanket of coat, a prized stuffed animal. She had nothing to speak of. And yet, look around the sanctuary and see how God took her lack of possessions and touched so many through her. How often do I feel a need for things -- things to signal my success, or my belonging, or my desire for earthly security and well-being.
And then we sang. And the thoughts became clearer.
"Though Satan should buffet,
tho' trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
It is well with my soul ..."
I cried at the truth of that lyric, newly embraced by my heart and mind. Lord, let me not shy away from my helplessness, let me not get stuck in my own distorted priorities, let me not get sucked into a world which is upside down in its values. Let me instead consider all that You have done for me, all that You seek to do -- and all You already do, in spite of my interferences and protestations. Your ways are not my ways, they are higher and more noble than anything I might dare to think of or embrace. Lord, let me say, with the saint of so long ago, "it is well with my soul" -- even when my flesh struggles and refuses to see or believe it to be so.
And the overriding thought that melancholy Monday: life is sacred. All life is given by God and deserves our respect and love, from the cradle to the grave.
Not only the strong are made in God's image, the weak are as well. That's what Katie would have said.
Actually, that IS what Katie said for her entire 15 years.
Yesterday, on the 35th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, I read a study by the Alan Guttmacher Institute reporting that one in five women having abortions claim to be born again or Evangelical Christians.
If that's correct, that would man that this last year over two hundred thousand of our Christian sisters had an abortion. Even if the number were half that, that is still a staggering number of women in crisis. It made me think, what must it be like to hear a celebration of the Sanctity of Human Life knowing that you had an abortion? All I can imagine is that it must be extraordinarily painful.
This statistic helped to open my eyes. It's easy to forget -- especially since we don't talk about it much -- that there are post-abortive women in our churches, our Bible studies, our singles groups and, probably, reading this blog. Earlier this month, Focus on the Family issued a challenge to Christians to reach out to both post-abortive women and those at risk of an abortion.
"Many women choose abortion out of fear or a perceived lack of support, and the abortion industry is capitalizing on a woman's vulnerability by selling her an abortion at the most challenging time in her life," said Kim Conroy, the Sanctity of Human Life Director for Focus on the Family. "Justice, mercy and compassion must be at the forefront of the conversation if we truly desire to extend healing to the women in our churches affected by abortion -- both those who've experienced it and those who are right now contemplating it."
Justice, mercy and compassion. That's a challenge that I needed. What will I do this year to reach out to the post-abortive and at-risk women around me?
If you have had an abortion, or know someone who has, and want to learn more about post-abortion syndrome, you can go to troubledwith.com. If you'd like to talk to a Focus on the Family counselor, you can call 1-800-A-FAMILY toll free.
As soon as I saw the words, I knew this would not be pretty. In the "letter to editor" world, starting the letter off with someone's name is the real world equivalent of your mom using your middle name. You know you're in trouble. But there it was -- "Heather Koerner."
So, what happened? Well, I got a bee in my bonnet about a local happening, sent a letter to the editor about it and got an, um, response. It was an interesting, and also humbling, experience and reminded me of something: words are powerful.
I didn't particularly like what my responder said about me. But before pointing the finger at him, I needed to look at myself. While writing my own letter, it was very tempting at times to target specific people (rather than stick to the general point) and let both barrels blow. I was convicted, though, that snarkiness is not one of the fruits of the Spirit and tried to hold my tongue. As one cartoon I saw the other day pointed out, "You were right about the Christian part, you just forgot the don't-be-a-jerk-about-it part."
I think this is where we Christians sometimes need some work. Tom just wrote about how we need truth. Steve just wrote about letting Christ transform our attitudes. It's getting these two concepts together that seems so difficult for us. We're either gentle with little truth, or truthful with little love. We need to proclaim the Word (Tim Challies has a great piece this week about spiritual discernment) and do it with love.
Even though this letter stung a little, I will probably remember the lesson more than the topic. Words matter. Whether I'm conversing, blogging or writing, I need to remember that.
I agree with Steve. We need to live transformed lives "so that those around us will know we've been with Jesus." But I think it's difficult to do if we aren't committed to a church.
In Mark Dever's What is a Healthy Church?, he explains that church membership and church discipline are essential components of making disciples who won't "bring disrepute onto the gospel." Which seems to be a problem if we are to believe unChristian.
On the benefits of "careful church membership," Mark writes, It will make the witness of our churches to non-Christians more clear. It will make it harder for weaker sheep to stray from the fold and still call themselves sheep. It will help shape and focus the discipleship of more mature Christians. It will help church leaders know exactly for whom they are responsible. In all of this, God will be glorified.
But if a church doesn't exercise biblical discipline, membership doesn't mean much. Mark says that church discipline is what gives membership it's meaning. Membership draws a boundary line around the church, marking the church off from the world. Discipline helps the church that lives inside of that boundary line stay true to the very things that are cause for drawing the line in the first place.
If we are to be walking billboards in the way Gary Thomas describes in The Beautiful Fight, maybe it begins with committing to a body of believers and submitting yourself under the authority of its leaders.
I am currently reading a book called unChristian by a guy named David Kinnaman. (So are a lot of people, apparently. Chuck Colson wrote about it today as well.) So far, it's pretty interesting. Kinnaman works for the Barna Research Group and he spent quite awhile gathering research about young people's view of Christians and Christianity. He also polled young people within the church, and, surprisingly their views matched the "outsiders" thoughts pretty closely.
Kinnaman discovered that the view of Christians is, in general, quite negative. Christians are seen as hypocritical, too focused on getting converts, anti-homosexual, sheltered, too political and judgmental.
Whether these things are true about Christians or not, these are the perceptions people have of us. And what I thought was extremely interesting and profoundly sad is that the people polled were not getting the majority of their negative feelings from the "liberal media." They were getting them from Christians themselves: Being hurt by Christianity is far more common among the young than among older outsiders. Three out of every ten young outsiders said they have undergone negative experiences in churches and with Christians. Such hurtful experiences are part of the stories of nearly one out of every two young people who are atheists, agnostics, or of some other faith.
Kinnaman notes that Christians have become "famous for what we oppose, rather than who we are for." He points out that people in this generation are naturally skeptical of everything -- not just Christians. They are looking for genuine people, and they see Christians as people who pretend as though we are perfect, when, in fact, we live very similar lives to non-Christians.
Kinnaman said that the automatic reaction of some Christians to this research is to say, "whelp, we expect the world to hate us. Satan has blinded the minds of unbelievers." This sentiment is true to an extent. Christians receive push back because they are promoting biblical truths and values in a relativistic society. Many people don't want to hear that they're wrong.
However, this does not give us license to avoid the truth in this research. Christians have a bad reputation, and we've apparently done something to get it. Kinnaman points out that we are to represent God's holiness and His grace in our interactions with non-believers.
I've heard some things like this before, but after reading through this research, it is quite sobering to realize how non-Christians view me and my friends. And although Kinnaman is sure to note that in order to fix this problem we should not go around watering down the gospel, he does give suggestions for how we should show Christ to others. Young people today are looking for people who live out what they say they believe, which is good. If Christians, as a whole, try to be more Christlike in our everyday lives, we have the opportunity to change these perceptions: [Y]oung people said they formed their views of Christians based on conversations with others, often with Christians. This is significant because not only does it mean we have a great deal of responsibility in developing many of the perceptions that people hold, but it also suggests the possibility that our words and our lives can change these negative images.
What do you all think? Is there validity to this research? If so, how can those of us who are Christians do a better job of showing Christ to those around us?
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