Move along, nothing to see here... {thoughts on art in the sanctuary}

 What helps you to meditate on truth?

In what environment are you most receptive to the means of grace?

How can what you see with your eye encourage your heart and mind to see?

 

The good news is, well, it's actually the Good News! 

It doesn't depend on us, on our faculties for attention, 

on our access to excellent environments for worship. 

It does depend on our hearing, on God's enabling us to receive his grace 

through the means which he has given.

A few weeks ago I was asked to design something to hang in the space behind the pulpit 

at our church, framing the cross, facing the congregation of the saints. 

I'm sure I overthink these things, and honestly that might normally prevent me 

from producing anything at all. But, since the time frame between being asked for a design 

and getting started on the project was around 24 hours, 

with the deadline for completion in less than a week, 

I had to move quickly and my thinking-creating-evaluating process was severely truncated.

In considering the environment, the physical context for the gathering of the church, 

for the hearing of the Word by the people of God 

I wanted to create something that, in a sense, people wouldn't see. 

Well, yes, I know they see it, but I hoped it would not call attention to itself, 

not become a distraction to those who are hearing and worshiping.

And yet, maybe subtly it could draw the eye and the heart and the mind toward Christ. 

I envisioned something rough, something ordinary, unpolished, even broken. 

I thought about vertical lines sweeping upward and about 

muddy, dark and dingy things becoming lighter and brighter.

We used ordinary, cheap, scrap wood shims, broken, battered, and discolored 

with various drab shades of paint, oriented in a vertical pattern almost imperceptibly graduating 

from a slightly darker to lighter shade of distressed, weathered wood.

I'm still not sure these panels achieve (or under-achieve) all I envision art in the worship setting should, but they're up, and they're messy, and they point heavenward. I guess I'm hopeful that we broken believers, as we gather to worship, would do the same.

--::--

Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, 

by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, 

that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 

let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, 

with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.  

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.  

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works,  

not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, 

but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

Hebrews 10:19-25

Holiness, Obedience, and Gospel Enthusiasts {a review of DeYoung's The Hole in Our Holiness}

In his book, The Hole in Our Holiness, Kevin DeYoung seeks to address what he sees as a lack of concern and conviction in the church about living godly lives and pursuing holiness. This is a difficult task--holding up God's law as good and instructive without obscuring or minimizing the free gift of justification by faith alone. Overall, DeYoung does this well, exhorting readers to holiness and encouraging them through the gospel.

He calls readers to take seriously the imperatives of the law and to strive to grow in holiness as a result of and fueled by the freeing grace of the gospel. Pastor DeYoung encourages Christians to live lives of obedience to God's law through "Spirit-powered, gospel-driven, faith-fueled effort." He reminds us to return to the identity we have in Christ, through the gospel, and to live out the reality of that new identity. 

All this is very good, and much needed. In mainstream evangelicalism certainly, and surely in many individual churches as well, pastors shy away from preaching the imperatives of the law with its clear call to perfect holiness and instead preach a "you're good-enough" kind of message. We all need to grow in our love for and reflection of God's holiness and DeYoung's book is an excellent help to believers in that direction.



I am hesitant to voice my criticism of this book because there is so much that is so good. However, there are a number of places in the book where DeYoung addresses possible disagreements with his argument and it is in these places that I believe he muddies the waters a bit instead of clarifying things.

In reformed and reformed-leaning circles recently there has been some discussion of the possibility of over-emphasizing the gospel.  There seem to be some questions about whether or not too great an emphasis on justification results in too little concern for striving and obedience, and there have been accusations of antinomianism. Christians in these circles would benefit from clear distinctions and definitions and straight-forward discussion. DeYoung's overall thesis rightly affirms a gospel-driven pursuit of holiness, but some readers may go away from his book thinking that they should be concerned when the gospel is "too" celebrated.

In Chapter Four, he discusses those who suffer from "nomophobia (fear of the law)" and characterizes them as people who "make every imperative into a command to believe the gospel more fully." He claims that these people "turn the gospel into one more thing we have to get right, and faith becomes the one thing we need to be better at. If only we really believed, obedience would take care of itself. No need for commands or effort"  (55).

This kind of person may exist, one who emphasizes the gospel so much that "every imperative" is somehow reduced to "believe the gospel more fully" with "no need for commands or effort." However, I think DeYoung is creating a false dichotomy here. He seems to be claiming that those who teach that every command of God to the Christian implicitly calls us to believe the gospel more fully are also dismissing the third use of the law in the command, the content of the therefore.  I think this person who claims that obedience to God requires no commands or effort is something of a straw man that DeYoung references several times in his book.

In Chapter Five, DeYoung declares, "If we, in a well-intentioned effort to celebrate the unimpeachable nature of our justification, make it sound as though God no longer concerns himself with our sins, we'll put a choke hold on our full-throttle drive to holiness"  (74).

Again, I'm not sure who this hypothetical person is--the one who is so excited about the security of his salvation that he claims that God is not concerned about our sin. Here DeYoung misses a chance to clarify how enthusiastic celebration of the gospel leads to greater rest in Christ and this deep security fuels a greater desire and effort to walk in a manner worthy of Him.

Later in the same chapter, DeYoung looks to Paul's life as an example of a Christian pursuing a life of holiness without being plagued by guilt. He writes, "What's the secret to such freedom? Paul is not summoning the power of positive thinking or feeling good because he's got some judgment-free God" (76).

Once again, DeYoung is implying that those who emphasize that there is no condemnation for those in Christ also teach that this God of a radical, robust, amazing gospel, somehow doesn't care about holiness and sin. If DeYoung were writing to a wider evangelical audience, maybe to those who would be tempted to believe Oprah's gospel or Joel Osteen's, I could understand this repeated implication. (But the accusation would not apply here either, since the heart of the gospel--Christ's death and resurrection for my sake--is not preached emphatically by them.)

It seems to me that DeYoung's audience (and maybe I am wrong about this) is primarily made up of conservative Christians, readers of The Gospel Coalition blogs, those who lean toward or are Reformed, those who are trying to answer the question, "How do the sola gratia, sola fide, and sola Christo of the gospel relate to the holiness of God and my sanctification?"

These repeated moments of confusion in The Hole in Our Holiness become a shadowy straw man, subtly calling into question the teaching of those who preach and teach "the unimpeachable nature of our justification." It would be a shame for anyone to think he should be concerned or suspicious of bold, unapologetic, unqualified gospel proclamation.

My concern is that those who fear that the gospel can be overemphasized and should be balanced, maybe even limited by law will find fuel for their worry in DeYoung's words, instead of realizing that these two realities for the Christian--that we are freely justified by faith as a gift AND that God calls believers to lives of obedience and holiness--are complementary truths and gain their meaning and power in relation to each other not in opposition to each other.

I may be too critical in highlighting this one particular weakness in The Hole in Our Holiness. Overall, I appreciated DeYoung's exhortation to Christians to strive to live obedient lives and to follow God's law in light of our justification, union with Christ, and new identity in him. I recognize the need in my own life to be awakened to the beauty of God's holiness and to strive more and more to follow after Christ and his righteousness. Despite the shortcoming discussed here, I am thankful to Pastor DeYoung for his kind and powerful call to this life of obedience and I heartily recommend his book.

O Starry Night {better late than never}

Hold on, wait just a minute, I know you've already packed up your ornaments and you are on to brilliant beginnings in the new year, but if you don't mind re-visiting Christmas for a moment ~ here's a peek at what I was looking at for much of the season.

This year I was asked to contribute to our church's advent decoration by designing and painting two huge panels. I was a little intimidated by the size and public nature of the project and by the challenge of creating art that would edify and not distract worshippers.

I used dark, earthy tones and a simple landscape scene to suggest the various parts of the Christmas story ~ Mary and Joseph traveling all the way to the little town of Bethlehem, the shepherds in the fields, the star seen by the Magi, and peace on earth, goodwill to men.

Each panel measures around 11 x 6 feet. I painted on 1/4 inch hardboard (I think) with valspar paints and purdy brushes. I did a lot of scrambling up and down the ladder and running way back 

to get the big picture view.

  The two panels framed the cross in the front of the sanctuary and were designed 

to transition between our regular Sunday worship services, the children's choir performance, 

and the Christmas concert.

 With help from some talented builder/craftsmen, the structure came together. 

Although it's difficult to see, there were Christmas trees and poinsettias flanking the stage as well.

It has been an honor and a great creative outlet for me to help design and create things at our church over the years. I'm thankful for the chance to contribute.

Now, bring on Adventure Week 2013!

The Fullness of Time {a Christmas hymn}

I had to share this beautiful song, written and performed by Jack Franicevich, 

a college student who worships with us at Grace EV Free Church La Mirada. 

Listen to and marvel at the greatest story ever told.

Listen on Vimeo here.

Today's Project

Someday, maybe I'll write a hectic, jam-packed post about all the goings on of the last several months, with reflective bits about my conflicted experience of online activity, and sweet bits about how the children have grown, and all kinds of other bits about spring and summer, rest and travel and school and . . . .

But, honestly, at this point all that catch-up and explanation is just creating a giant writer's block.

So, I'll just share today's project.

May you know the abiding peace that comes with believing ~

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end.

Lamentations 3:22

Inspiration for this project came from Dana Tanamachi's amazing chalk creations.

Chalkboard Inspiration

Inspired by Dana Tanamachi's amazing chalkboard creations, as mentioned by these two bloggers, 

I decided to jazz up my dining room chalkboard this week.

I've enjoyed keeping a passage of scripture or some other poetry or lyrics displayed in this busy space. Hopefully, these true and restful words can give my soul a moment of pause and reflection 

even while I'm wiping mashed eggs off the floor or giving a spelling test (or both).

The look I was trying to achieve with this hymn took some pre-planning on paper in order to determine how the phrases could fit together in an eclectic way while still being readable and balanced. 

I especially like how the word "Grace" stands out in the center of the board.

Praise God for the sufficiency of Jesus' blood and rightousness, 

and the sure anchor of his unchanging grace which holds us safe, 

even in the midst of the whelming flood. 

 I'm looking forward to seeing this daily reminder in the weeks to come.

Antinomians, Antitheses, and Accusations ~ Comments on Tullian Tchavidjian's Jesus + Nothing = Everything

I've just finished reading Tullian Tchividjian's little book, Jesus + Nothing = Everything. As I read I was encouraged and strengthened by his careful articulation of the gospel and its benefits, and my confidence in my freedom in Christ was bolstered by the unapologetic proclamation of what Christ has done for me.

Tchavidjian has been accused by some reviewers of creating antitheses between law and gospel and between rest and work. Some have asserted that in Jesus + Nothing = Everything, Tchavidjian denies the work and struggle against sin in the Christian life and some have charged that he is flirting with antinomianism. I would argue, however, that he articulates helpful (even indispensable) distinctions and relationships between these elements of Christianity and that he does not encourage the believer to do away with or devalue either God's law or the struggle against sin.



LAW and GOSPEL

In Jesus + Nothing = Everything, Tchividjian (in the good company of Calvin, Luther, and many others) makes a clear distinction between the imperative and indicative, the law and the gospel. This distinction is often criticized as if the distinction itself creates an antithesis or an opposition, as if there is embedded in this distinction the further claim of LAW = bad/anti-gospel and GOSPEL = good/ anti-law.

However, the relationship between law and gospel, as understood by those who would insist on a clear distinction between the two, would be better stated as LAW = God's good, righteous and holy standard and GOSPEL = God's free gift of Jesus, the perfect fulfillment of the holy standard.

Gospel fulfills law, it doesn't replace it or oppose it. What is important is to understand the relationship between these two good things given by God, and not to either conflate them into one thing or set them in opposition to each other. When law and gospel are not understood as distinct from each other, the result is usually a weakened law--a standard that we think we can fulfill, and also a weakened gospel--Jesus plus something (that we do) equals everything. Tchavidjian goes to great lengths to keep law and gospel distinct in his book.



REST and STRUGGLE

The question then comes down to this:  How are we as Christians to understand Christian growth or progress in sanctification? I believe Tchividjian has been wrongly accused by some who claim that he teaches there is no real work (aside from the work of resting in the gospel) in the process of sanctification or in living the Christian life. Again, his distinction has been misunderstood to be an opposition or antithesis.

Tchavidjian argues that as we believe more and more deeply and fully that the Gospel (the perfect, free, fulfillment of God's law given to us in Christ) is true, we then live out of that reality more and more freely. That the gospel itself (our security and standing in Christ) affects change within believers causing us to cling less to our sin, to desire to live obedient lives, and to love God and others more.

He also acknowledges that in life we constantly face temptations to sin and we need a strong foundation, we need stable ground to stand on when we struggle against those temptations. He asserts that our own resolve, or our fear of condemnation, or our methodologies are ultimately insufficient and lacking the real power needed to struggle against sin and to persevere in faith. In fact, only the reality of the gospel--that is, our identity as justified children of God--has the power to motivate us to continue struggling against sin and to endure the inevitable failures we will encounter.

Ultimately, the gospel is the stable ground we on which we stand (and where we can rest) when we fight sin in our lives and also when we (inevitably) see our failure to measure up to God's standard. Without that stable ground, it doesn't matter what weapons we bring to the fight (striving, lists, fear), we will fail and (apart from the gospel) we will lack assurance and peace. We may work hard to prove our right standing with God to ourselves, but we will always be insecure and eventually we will be worn out, worn down by trying to carry the heavy burden of the law on our own shoulders.

However, resting on the unshakable foundation of the gospel, we can fight against sin (and this will involve our own resolve and perhaps methods and other "weapons") and when we fail we will be better able to get up and keep trying.

We can continue to struggle because we have rest.

Though we falter, we will not be defeated because we will know that the victory over sin has already been won and is already ours in Christ. We gain confidence and assurance and perseverance primarily as we believe the truth of the gospel more, not as we achieve more and more success in our struggle against sin.



Tchavidjian describes the relationship (not the antithesis) between resting in the gospel and struggling against sin near the end of his book:

If you're a Christian, then even in the most heated moments of temptation, what you actually desire most deeply is God, not sin, because of the transforming work God has done in you. He's changed you at your core. You're a different person now because of the hard surgical work he's done inside you.

That's why such an important part of fending off temptation--whether it be something Paul lists in verses 5 and 8 of Colossians 3 ("sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry," or "anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk"), or something else--what's important is simply to first come to terms with who you are, what you've been remade to be. Bring that reality into the moment of temptation, and be reminded by the gospel of who you are now, and of what you want most, even in the face of sin's deception about what you really desire. Identity (who we are) precedes practicality (what we do).

If we would just stop and remember the gospel, we would realize that God really is what we want most, even in our worst moments, no matter how strong the temptation we're battling.

Lasting behavioral change happens as you grow in your understanding of the gospel, and then as you learn to receive and rest in--at your point of deepest need--everything Jesus secured for you. (179)

Notice that in this passage he is describing a relationship between gospel and struggling against sin, not an opposition:

"what's important is simply to first come to terms with [your new identity in Christ]" (italics mine).

"Identity (who we are) precedes practicality (what we do)."

"Behavioral change happens as you grow in your understanding of the gospel" (italics mine).

Tchavidjian is clarifying an emphasis, establishing a priority in our sanctification: It is of foremost importance that we believe the gospel. This priority doesn't  preclude effort, struggle, or battling against temptation. But it does establish the foundational necessity of believing in (and resting in) the gospel in order to grow and mature in faith.

Clearly, Tchavidjian sees growth in maturity, and struggling against sin as desirable realities in the Christian life. And clearly he upholds God's law as a good guide for Christian living. The accusation that he advocates a kind of anti-nomianism is unfounded, arising from a misunderstanding of the law/gospel distinction and the relationship between resting in the gospel and following God in obedience.

Michael Horton sums up the relationship between justification and sanctification more clearly and succinctly than I in his discussion of Philipians 2:

Bottom line: The gospel is not the enemy of good works, unless one is seeking justification by obedience, as Paul makes clear in chapter 3. In fact, the gospel is the ground of good works. The goal is both to be clothed with Christ’s alien, perfect, and complete righteousness and to be more and more “filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God” (1:11). So not only when we are resting in Christ for justification, but when we are going out of ourselves to love our neighbors in sanctification, the Triune God has it all under control. We’re only working out that which he has worked for and within us according to his gospel. Holding fast to the word of life, we work out our salvation in the knowledge that “he who began a good work in you will bring it completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil 1:6).

The bottom line of my comments here: I encourage those who would seek a fuller understanding of the gospel and of the freedom they have in Christ to read Jesus + Nothing = Everything. You may just find yourself resting in the gospel a little more fully and struggling toward obedience a little more faithfully.

Promise

And the first thing God did was make another promise. "I won't ever destroy the world again." 

And like a warrior who puts away his bow and arrow at the end of a great battle, 

God said, "See, I have hung up my bow in the clouds.

And there in the clouds -- just where the storm meets the sun -- 

was a beautiful new bow made of light.

It was a new beginning in God's world.

It wasn't long before everything went wrong again but God wasn't surprised, he knew this would happen. That's why, before the beginning of time, he had another plan -- a better plan. A plan not to destroy the world, but to rescue it -- a plan to one day send his own Son, the Rescuer.

  God's strong anger against hate and sadness and death would come down once more -- but not on his people, or his world. No, God's war bow was not pointing down at his people.

 It was pointing up, into the heart of Heaven.

from The Jesus Storybook Bible, by Sally Lloyd-Jones

Presence-to-Bless {A Response from Dr. T. David Gordon}

Dr. Gordon has kindly offered his thoughts on the conversation regarding the sacred and the mundane. I found them to be clarifying of the issues and an encouragement toward humility and grace as we discuss these things. Here is his response:

Dear Mrs. Rosenkranz,

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me; permit me to attempt at least an abbreviated reply.

Church-historically speaking, this is the issue that separates the Eastern and Western churches.  Within Eastern Orthodoxy, all of life is sacred, everything is sacramental.  The Western churches believe that only some realities are sacraments (though Protestants and Catholics differ on the number).  A colleague of mine here is Orthodox, and we've discussed the matter many times.  Here's what I've learned from him and while I yet do not agree with him.

He is right to teach us that God discloses Himself in all the works of His hands, just as Rembrandt discloses Rembrandt in each painting.  So in this sense, it really is true that every aspect of creation is and can be (and should be?) revelatory.  The "natural" realm, as we call it, is the realm in which the "supernatural" God makes Himself known.  Perhaps the well-known hymn "This Is my Father's World" makes this claim.

At the same time, the distinction between the sacred and the mundane is important.  After Genesis 3, we have been banished from the presence of God, whom to know is life eternal.  His presence is still a source of great blessedness, but he deliberately and judicially banned us from His presence; and since then has only invested that presence in special places (e.g. tabernacle) or events (e.g. the Lord's Supper).  So, once we get beyond the semantic issue of how best to say this, there is still an important truth in saying that God has pledged His presence in the Supper in a way that He has not pledged it when I'm hiking in the woods.

While due humility should probably induce us all, therefore, not to be too insistent on any particular way of articulating the matter (e.g. sacred/secular, sacred/mundane, two kingdoms, etc.), I think we must acknowledge both truths:  that God discloses Himself in all created things, but pledges His presence-to-bless (or curse) in only a small number of created things or events.  I myself would be content if we could all agree on these two points, even as we do our best to consider how best to put the matter.

That God would bless and keep you and yours, is the prayer of your servant,
 

Dr. T. David Gordon
Professor of Religion and Greek
Grove City College
www.tdgordon.net

. . . . .

Dr. Gordon is a Professor of Religion and Greek at Grove City College, author of several books and many articles, including "Vocation: Work Quietly with Your Hands" in Modern Reformation magazine, Vol. 20.

Vocation and the Sacred {a conversation}

Edie at Life in Grace recently wrote about "Where mundane touches sacred," inviting us to appreciate the "sacred work" of the mundane. Such encouraging words for all of us as we go about the daily drudgery of the many things to which we have been called. I emailed her with a question that she very graciously added to the end of her post. I'd like to expand on a bit on my thoughts here.


This is my email: 

Edie,

Your post today was beautiful, well-written, and brought a tear to my eye. And it touched on some things I’ve been mulling over lately. I’ve been thinking about this idea of all things being sacred–of finding the spiritual in the mundane things. I’d love to know what you think, since I think we approach our understanding of Christianity and the church from similar perspectives.

I’m wondering about the conflating of sacred and secular, or of sacred and all of life. I’ve read others writing similar (encouraging!) things. I certainly appreciate and recognize the reality that God works in all of our life–through the mundane and the routine and the little things. But I wonder if that is the same as a thing being sacred? I wonder if our sacramentalizing all of life actually may cause us to care less about, to lose our wonder at the true sacraments ordained by Christ and the special grace of which they are a means. Maybe it is just a matter of semantics and I’m thinking too much about this. Maybe it’s just because I was an English teacher and I get really interested in the words we use and how the usage changes, but maybe the usage does affect the way we think and then finally what we believe.

Just my two cents, for what it’s worth. I love your thought-provoking writing, Edie. No need to respond unless you want to.

Love to you,
Laura
the given life

I agree with so much of what Edie wrote ~
              the significance of the small, everyday things,
                                        that our work, no matter how mundane, is truly vocation ~
                                                                                                                       that is, divine calling! 

In fact, I think that we have lost the meaning of the word vocation, or allowed our understanding of it to shrink to include only special professions, especially those related to ministry, and to exclude those things that are unglamorous, menial, or temporary.

I stand with those who would broaden 

our understanding of vocation, 

elevating our little things 

~ like laundry and diapers, paperwork and planting ~ 

giving them standing as worthy work, 

part of our divine calling as humans 

made in the image of God. 

T. David Gordon writes, "Human life is never 'on hold'; it does not begin when we find 'the right job' or the ideal job. It begins when we imitate God; and if we labor productively in his created order . . . , we are doing what we were created to do."

We can find deep fulfillment and satisfaction in knowing that God worked for six days

creating the material world, the ordinary things and the small things, 

and he proclaimed that it was "good." 

By working in this ordinary, physical, world

(cleaning, feeding, tucking little ones into bed)

we are participating in God-ordained tasks; 

this everyday work "is essential to our very nature and dignity as human beings." 

We can find significance in the small things, 

and "in whatever [we] do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, 

knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. 

You are serving the Lord Christ"

(Col. 3:23-24).

By recovering a large and full understanding of vocation, we can avoid losing the special meanings held by the words "sacred" and "sacrament." The Westminster and Heidelberg catechisms both ask the questions "What is a sacrament?" and "How many sacraments has Christ instituted in the New Covenant?" And they answer, in my summarized paraphrase, that a sacrament is a holy, visible, sign and seal, which mediates grace to the believer by more fully declaring and sealing to us the promise of the gospel. And that there are only two sacraments, namely baptism and the Lord's supper.

I want to enter into my menial workaday life 

with passion and meaning. 

But I also want to regard the means of grace that Christ instituted 

as holy and unique. 

I think I can do both. 

But the words I choose matter, they designate categories. 

All things do not need to be set apart in order to be significant. 

If all things are set apart, then nothing is set apart. 

But God, by the act of creation and by creating us in his image 

has made all things good, and made our lawful work noble and dignified. 

So, we can find deep satisfaction in our menial tasks, 

while also reserving the words "holy" and "sacred" for those things 

that God himself has designated as such.

 

(I have borrowed heavily in my thinking from T. David Gordon's article "Vocation: Work Quietly with Your Hands," published in Modern Reformation, Vol. 20 and from the Westminster and Heidelberg Catechisms.)

Defending the Fatherless

Many churches recognize the first Sunday in November as "Adoption Sunday," 

a day for the church to consider the theology of our own adoption ~ 

from weak, broken, enemies of God to chosen, forgiven, children of God. 

It is also an opportunity to think about how we as the church can care for the fatherless. 

One of the most striking things about this focus, for me, is how we all are the needy ones. 

Each and every one of us, fatherless until chosen by God, without a family until brought into the church. 

Oftentimes the call to social action overshadows the greater reality that Christ himself is making his kingdom 

and ultimately fulfilling all of the Old and New Testament admonitions to justice and peace. 

In Luke 6, Jesus reads from Isaiah,

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

because he has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives

and recovering of sight to the blind,

to set at liberty those who are oppressed,

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

and then he announces,

"Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

Ultimately, finally, Jesus is the healer, liberator, savior. 

 

We, having been chosen in him, can walk in his way, 

in a manner worthy of our calling as children of God. 

~ welcoming the outcast ~

~ working to free the wrongly imprisoned ~

~ giving to those who have need ~

~ defending the fatherless ~

We are called to the many varied outworkings of loving our neighbor, 

loving our enemies, loving the unlovely. 

Not because we are creating the kingdom, 

but because we are children of the King.

Chosen.

         Before the foundations of the earth,
                                       before God separated the light from the darkness,
                                                                                                                        before time began,

God chose those whom he had predestined for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ. 

Sons of God. Inheritors of the promise. Co-heirs with Christ. 

Chosen.

When viewed from this perspective, 

                 
                               beyond the stars and the planets and galaxies,
                                                before my first cry, my first failure, my first stirrings of belief,

it becomes starkly, strikingly clear that he chose me 

because of his great grace, for the praise of his glory. 

It's not about me.

         

                He reached down,  

                                   through the tangle of history,  

                                                            into the turbid ebb and flow of human misery,

and grasped my hand,  and drew me to himself. 

Chosen.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 

who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, 

even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, 

that we should be holy and blameless before him. 

In love he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, 

according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, 

with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.  

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, 

according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, 

in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, 

according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, 

to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

Ephesians 1:3~10

The Old Ennui

I've been on a bit of a binge lately. A reading, thinking, longing kind of a binge. Sometimes things coalesce in just the right (or wrong) way to bring about the old ennui. Or, The Old Ennui, I should say. A familiar sort of friend. Do you know about ennui? You must.

It's a French word. The French are perhaps more inclined than we are to dwell long enough on a particular vague experience or feeling to call it out of the shadows and give it shape. Years ago, in reading Kate Chopin's The Awakening, I came upon the word and something previously felt but unnamed became clearer. The naming helps I think.

But as she sat there amid her guests she felt the old ennui overtaking her; the hopelessness which so often assailed her, which came upon her like an obsession, like something extraneous, independent of volition. It was something which announced itself, a chill breath that seemed to issue from some vast cavern wherein discords wailed. There came over her that acute longing...

(p. 232)

Perhaps Chopin overstates the experience with some hyperbolic drama. Her allusion to the pounding, pulsing, emotional cacophony that is Coleridge's "Kubla Khan" might tip the balance that way. But still,

The Old Ennui arrives, unasked, perhaps overwhelming, but at the very least insistently tugging at the edges of the day, in the quiet moments or in the ones that are so busy and loud and full that you turn inside for just a moment of respite and there you find it, the intangible, unarticulated longing brought on, no doubt, by some half conscious reverie.

For me, this time, brought on by reading an analysis of neuroscience and culture (Nicholas Carr's The Shallows) alongside quiet stories of lost simplicity, unspoken commitments, and joyful work (Wendel Berry's That Distant Land). Add to that a long solitary airplane flight with time to be still, a daily infusion of laundry and dishes, and a disposition bent toward . . . well, toward ennui. Deadly, I tell you.

It's a struggle, with a kind of sweetness. To pull oneself up out of the romantic vision and see, engage, and enjoy or endure the real moments. To know that the longing yearns toward what cannot be attained, and that it can lead one onward always into discontentment and worse. However, to recognize also that it speaks of something better, the way things ought to be. C. S. Lewis knew this pull mingled with promise and called it "joy." And he found, finally, that it hearkens toward heaven. In the sharpest moments of ennui, in the caverns wherein discords wail, it is good to have these names, and to have this hope held out.

How to Make a Giant Waterfall

Last week was Adventure Week, our church's version of Vacation Bible School. This year our theme was On Safari: God Makes a Way. As a part of the planning team, I was in charge of transforming the church campus into scenes from an African safari.  The big impact piece was "Victoria Falls" at the entrance to the sanctuary where the main meeting took place.

I used a combination of ideas I found online, and then added some new elements, to create our giant waterfall display.  Here's how we did it:

You will need:

• a tall structure to use as a base for the waterfall (we used set walls from a theater production)
• cardboard to provide shape for the "rocks"
• brown packing paper (for the surface of the rocks)
• flat blue paper (butcher paper would work)
• metallic blue fringe curtain (both straight and curvy)
• irridescent fringe curtain (both straight and curvy)
• water pattern gossamer
• panels of cardboard layered with styrofoam cups hot glued into place
• live ferns
• green butcher paper (cut and stapled to resemble palm leaves)
• wooden boxes to build out the base of the waterfall and to provide "shelves" for the ferns
• a life size plywood gorilla!

These are the steps:

1. Erect the wall structure, angling the panels to create dimension, and cover it with blue paper.
2. Fold and shape cardboard pieces for rocks at the top of the wall and staple into place.
3. Arrange wooden boxes (or other shelf-like or stair-step like pieces) in groupings around the base of the wall.
4. Cover cardboard pieces and some of the wooden boxes with crumpled and shaped brown packing paper, staple into place.
5. Place/hang ferns and paper palm leaves.
6. Hang metallic fringe in layers over the blue paper. The top layer should be irridescent.
7. Arrange panels of cups around the base of the wall to create "foam."
8. Weave water patterned gossamer around cups and any gaps in the paper.
9. Set up faux palm tree and gorilla.
10. Bring in the kids!

We had a great week learning about how God has made a way for his people in Christ!

Rest and Persevere

Justin Taylor recently summarized a conversation between Kevin DeYoung and Tullian Tchividjian about law and gospel, sanctification and justification, and how we describe and understand the interplay between these things in the Christian life. 

At our church we have recently begun a sermon series on prayer, and already these same questions and concerns are being raised and discussed as we digest and apply the preaching of the word. My reflections here stem from a response to and consideration of these strains of thought and conversation. This is what I think I need to remember.

. . .

Christians should make every effort toward righteous living. 

We should long to live holy lives and we should welcome godly exhortation to holiness. We should be sensitive to the conviction of sin, and we should struggle against our sin as we strive toward righteousness. 

This should not be winked at or taken lightly or swept aside. Any denial of these things would be antinomianism and would presume upon God’s grace. However, exhortation toward effort without intentional, specific grounding in the gospel can leave us, believers, confused and uncertain.

When we are awakened to and convicted by the law and in the face of our failures to measure up to the law, we must remember the gospel. We must re-orient our understanding to the bedrock security of our present identity and our glorious future in Christ.

This remembering and re-orienting is one of (if not the) primary activity of Christian soul. Without the word and sacrament to aid us in this we flounder and sink, so easily forgetting or downplaying or misappropriating our gospel security.  Exhortation to work out our sanctification without grounding it in clear gospel ventures into the quicksand of works righteousness—

Instead of adeptly recognizing and applying the gospel to our inevitable failure, we are likely left

       

                                        wondering, 

                                                                 worried, 

                                                                                    anxious—about what? 

About our performance, 

                                                   ability to measure up, 

                                                                                       failure to grow sufficiently in sanctification.

We should be grieved by our sin, but let us not be anxious and burdened by the law. 

Let us remember that his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

The necessary fulcrum of our understanding of sanctification must be 

Christ’s sufficiency 

and the security of those who are in him. 

Despite our constant failures of feeling, thought, word and deed,
it is he who works in us to justify and to sanctify. 

And so I need to remember to rest in that truth—and persevere in the struggle against sin, 

                                       against laziness, 

                                                            against disappointment, 

                                            against greed, 

                                                          self-absorption, 

                                                                                       idolatry…. 

Rest and persevere in the struggle. 

Rest and struggle. 

Rest because you are secure. 

Struggle because your flesh and the world are fallen. 

But don’t struggle because you are not secure. 

And don’t rest because you don’t recognize sin. 

A true understanding of the law and the gospel would lead us to be ever more clearly  

detecting and detesting our own sin (and therefore struggling all the more against it)
                                              and then ever more deeply resting in the assurance of God’s favor,
                                                       of our justification and sanctification in Christ, by his merit and God’s grace.

So let us pray with Paul, “that our God may make [us] worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in [us], and [we] in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Pray that God would do it, knowing he will.