wow

I just spent three hours trying (in vain) to set-up a website using a popular hosting company's online web-building tool. I was planning to post to my blog tonight, but at the moment I crave sleep.

Maybe tomorrow, kids.

a dream

Last night I dreamt I had a conversation with Satan.

He told me that I have no real answers, only questions. I challenged him by referencing things I know about God, about the universe, about life. But he showed me that these answers, these proofs, only lead to more questions.

And he was right.

It was a strange dream, the evil one and I talking calmly. I did not feel threatened by him. I engaged him in debate and he squarely won. And even as his arguments outmatched mine, I saw the flaw in his thinking—only one with no faith needs an answer to everything.

Life is full of questions and what little bit we understand only raises more questions. This is absolutely true. “God's voice thunders in marvelous ways; he does great things beyond our understanding,” (Job 37:5).

Faith, hope and love—these concepts extend past provable fact, beyond reason into a place where questions abound. But we don’t have to fear our lack of answers because God is in this place, too, and his presence is the very light of life.

question

Can we agree that there are more pressing spiritual matters in need of attention than the latest Hanks/Howard film?

It genuinely pains me to see so much concern given to such an incidental issue. Without stating any opinion whatsoever on “The Da Vinci Code” itself, I will say this: I don’t want to stand before God someday and answer for why I spent tremendous amounts of time, energy and effort debating for or against a cultural flash-in-the-pan. There are just too many other worthwhile things I’d rather be doing.

confession

The Lord Almighty says to the priests: "A son honors his father, and a servant respects his master. I am your father and master, but where are the honor and respect I deserve? You have despised my name!

"But you ask, 'How have we ever despised your name?'

"You have despised my name by offering defiled sacrifices on my altar.

"Then you ask, 'How have we defiled the sacrifices?'

"You defile them by saying the altar of the Lord deserves no respect. When you give blind animals as sacrifices, isn't that wrong? And isn't it wrong to offer animals that are crippled and diseased? Try giving gifts like that to your governor, and see how pleased he is!" says the Lord Almighty.

"Go ahead, beg God to be merciful to you! But when you bring that kind of offering, why should he show you any favor at all?" asks the Lord Almighty.

"I wish that someone among you would shut the Temple doors so that these worthless sacrifices could not be offered! I am not at all pleased with you," says the Lord Almighty, "and I will not accept your offerings. But my name is honored by people of other nations from morning till night. All around the world they offer sweet incense and pure offerings in honor of my name. For my name is great among the nations," says the Lord Almighty. "But you dishonor my name with your actions. By bringing contemptible food, you are saying it's all right to defile the Lord's table. You say, 'It's too hard to serve the Lord,' and you turn up your noses at his commands," says the Lord Almighty. "Think of it! Animals that are stolen and mutilated, crippled and sick—presented as offerings! Should I accept from you such offerings as these?" asks the Lord. "Cursed is the cheat who promises to give a fine ram from his flock but then sacrifices a defective one to the Lord. For I am a great king," says the Lord Almighty, "and my name is feared among the nations!"

—Malachi 1:6-14

In this conversation from the book of Malachi, God tells his people that they are offering him “unworthy sacrifices.” Rather than picking the best of their flocks, they find their weakest, least desirable lamb and that’s the one they give as a gift to God. After having pledged to give their best.

God gets lip service and leftovers.

I can’t read a passage like this without wondering if God gets much better today. My inclination is to look to the church, but a quiet voice within prompts me to look first at myself. Introspection reveals that, yes, Malachi’s word still stands and I am implicated. I don’t consistently give God my best. Sometimes what he gets from me amounts to little more than promises I don’t deliver on.

What would a life fully devoted look like? What would my life look like if God consistently got the best I have to offer? The best of my time? My effort? My devotion?

It sure seems that this is what he’s asking for. And it’s a fair request—I mean, he made me and he has already given me his best. The only imbalance in asking for my best is that my best doesn’t even come close to matching his best. He has every right to demand all from me.

Yet, my life is an awkward collage: the beauty of devotion mixed with the ugliness of vanity. A single, clear theme doesn’t always permeate the forefront.

God asks for a single, clear theme—an anthem of devotion. Not to the church or to this nation, but to him. A song of deep dedication sung with clear voice. A song that’s always on my lips. A new song.

I can do little more than beg grace for yesterday and I can't give tomorrow anything but a promise, but today I resolve to sing that song. Today I will be a disciple.

the call to prosper

There is a profound interest lately in the idea that God has in mind to “prosper” his people. I’ve encountered this idea myself in a number of books I’ve read and (more often) skimmed. Walk into any Christian bookstore and you’ll be confronted with a number of popular writers expounding on all the reasons and all the ways in which God wants to “enlarge your territory” or “increase your influence” or “enrich your life” with blessings.

Few of these authors will pointedly say that God wants to make you rich or attractive or popular, but it’s hard to read such material and not walk away with the impression that this is just what they’re saying—between the lines.

This troubles me, not because God doesn’t promise to prosper his people, but because I suspect he means something very different by “prosper” than we take him to mean. God’s idea of victory or success or even strength does not match man’s. Consider what God told Samuel when he was about anoint David as king: “The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart,” (1 Samuel 16:7). God said this as David’s stronger, older, more qualified brothers paraded before Samuel. But God’s idea of strength and character does not match ours.

When God promises to prosper us, how are we to know that experiences of suffering, loss, pain, perseverance, trial and persecution are not the very means by which God intends to bless? As countless victims of persecution have attested throughout the centuries, such experiences tend to draw us closer to God. Wealth, popularity, beauty and fame, on the other hand, tend to create a barrier between man and God. It would seem, oddly, that the harder life is the more blessed one.

But that doesn’t match our American picture of success. We want to be able to point to a new car, a nice home, a successful career, an attractive spouse, a hefty bank account or a wide circle of admirers and offer these as clear signs of God’s approval. They are not.

I’m not saying that a person who’s life is marked by one or more of these comforts isn’t favored by God. I’m just saying that God’s twin promises to provide and bless may not look like our picture of provision or blessing.

If that’s true, maybe our time and effort would be better spent chasing God instead of chasing the supposed “signs of his favor”. Maybe true blessing is found in finding him. And maybe all that other stuff matters less and less the more of him you find.

Just a thought.

whispers

I have a question: what is it that God is doing when one of his own is seeking him, but cannot seem to find him? Why is he sometimes silent?

I asked this question to a friend recently and the response I got frustrated me. It was the standard church response, textbook to the core. He told me that perhaps I was not seeking God the right way. Maybe my devotion wasn’t true enough. Maybe I haven’t waited long enough. Maybe I’m not giving enough money. (Yep, he actually said that.) Maybe there’s sin in my life blinding me to God’s response.

While I will grant you that there are many things I could do or fail to do that would get in the way of my communication with God, ultimately, between the two of us, my relationship with God is far more dependant on his action than on mine. What I mean is this: if I seek God to the best of my feeble ability, sincerely, genuinely searching him out in my brokenness, I may or may not find him immediately. Whether or not I find him depends chiefly on whether or not he reveals himself to me.

I’ll say again, yes, there are a great many things I can do to position myself to hear God and it is essential that I seek him; however, I’ll only find him when he shows himself to me.

For reasons I don’t understand, sometimes God chooses to remain hidden. Sometimes he allows mystery to persist. Sometimes I desperately want to feel his arms around me, holding me, hugging me, reminding me that he’s here and that he loves me and all I get is the still small whisper that Elijah heard. And honestly, it sounds like the breeze. In fact, it might be the breeze, but my faith prompts me to believe that it’s not the breeze, not some incidental coincidence, but instead the still small voice of God. And I believe that it is.

Much like Elijah, though, I feel like I’m hiding out, like the queen’s forces are stalking me and trying to kill me. I feel like I’m on the run, but I don’t know where to run to. Like Elijah, I feel like whining to God about my faithfulness and the unfairness of my current situation. And, like Elijah, God reveals himself to me, not in spectacular displays of his power (which just so happen to change my situation in wonderful, marvelous ways), but in quiet whispers, whispers I barely hear though I’m straining to discern any message from him.

This is, mysteriously, God’s way. The one true divine voice, the voice that spoke the universe into being, would rather whisper than shout. Even when I’m shouting, demanding to hear something from him.

the question is stronger than the answer

“You are…a follower of a God who demands independence, the exercise of free will, and the exercise of intellect.

“You are supposed to question—to question everything, even the existence of the gods and the purpose of being alive. If you would follow blindly from ritual to ritual, you would be no better than the cattle and sheep that dot the fields…

“[Your God] does not want that. He is a [God] for artists and poets, free-thinkers all, else their work would be no more than replicas of what others have deemed ideal. The question…is stronger than the answer. It is what accomplishes growth—growth toward [God].”

—From Night Masks by RA Salvatore

derek webb speaks

Read what the former Caedmon's Call member said in a recent interview with Relevant Magazine.

system error

A couple of years ago I was working what I would describe as “a crappy sales job”—that’s the industry term—and my boss, a former nightclub bouncer, had a simple approach to sales motivation: yell at your people and if that doesn’t work, yell some more.

Surprisingly, I was not inspired by this approach.

Neither was a good friend of mine who also worked for the bouncer-turned-salesman. We both hated the job and left as soon as we could. Recently, my friend ran into our former boss. He was telling me about the encounter and as we talked about it my friend commented that he didn’t think the guy was so bad. “It’s the system,” he said. “Remove him from that system and he’s really not such a jerk. He could be a lot of fun.”

I’ve been thinking about what my friend said—about the roles we play in the systems we are a part of. The more I think about it, the less I agree with my friend.

A system (group of people) is very much the sum of its parts. Granted, the “corporate culture” of my old company is a mess and my former boss is not to be blamed for that reality. But neither is he to be excused for his contribution to it. He may not have been solely responsible for every flaw, but he chose to stay within that system and to become a part of it. In that sense, his character is a reflection of the system.

When a person finds him/herself submerged in a dysfunctional system, he/she has three choices:

1. Leave the system. My friend and I chose this option.

2. Attempt to change the system from within. This is much harder than it sounds.

3. Join the system. This is, far and away, the easiest option because a lack of action (failure to aggressively pursue options 1 or 2) will automatically lead you to option 3.

Our old boss is living out option 3. He’s right there, immersed in a culture of greed, lies and scream-motivation, not because the company is screwed up and has corrupted him, but because he lacks the character to take a stand or leave. I don’t think that makes him a good guy. I think that makes him weak and cowardly.

And this brings me to myself. I cannot pass such harsh judgment on another without considering myself. What affect do I have on the environment around me? Do I pay enough attention to notice dysfunction in my own world? In my company? In my friendships? In my marriage? In my family? And when I find dysfunction, do I bow to it, court it, appease it, surrender to it? Or do I take a stand, holding true to the character I aspire to, even if it’s harder to do so?

All too often I go along to get along, and that just won’t do. I don’t want to end up like the bouncer-turned-salesman. I don’t want to find people saying one day that I’m probably a good guy underneath all the lies and the screaming. I want people to know my character because they know me. And I don’t want to blame the system I live in for my flaws. I want to change the system I live in for the better, in spite of my flaws.

Lofty goals, I know, but you gotta dream...