by Christine on May 30, 2009
Cynicism dulls our souls. We’re surrounded by cynicism. Nothing is as it seems and everyone has an ulterior motive. Paul Miller in his book, A Praying Life addresses cynicism. He points out that cynicism has been with us since the garden.
Satan’s first recorded words are cynical. He tells Adam and Eve. “For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like God” (Genesis 3:5). Satan is suggesting that God’s motives are cynical. In essence, he tells them, “God has not been honest about the tree in the middle of the garden. The command not to eat from the tree isn’t for your protection, God wants to protect himself from rivals. He’s jealous. He is projecting an image of caring for you, but he really has an agenda to protect himself. God has two faces.”
I’m a natural cynic. It’s something I find easy to be proud of, to wear as a badge of honor. Politically, I’m cynical of Democrats… and Republicans. What are they looking for in that bill? What do they “really” mean when they say, “This is good for you”? Nothing is to be believed or trusted.
Politics is one thing, but cynicism can also deaden our hearts towards God. I question God’s goodness. Small doubts turn into big doubts and nothing seems as it appears. I no longer trust God’s promises, and certainly doubt his provision. Cynicism erodes, slowly – drip, drip, drip at my soul. How is it that cynicism sneaks up? Paul Miller says:
… Cynicism is an easy sell. Because cynicism sees what is “really going on,” it feels real, authentic. That gives cynicism an elite status since authenticity is one of the last remaining public virtues in our culture.
Authenticity often clothes itself in cynicism. It’s easier to be cynical then to be truly authentic. When I’m cynical I feel smarter, wiser, cooler. Add a little pride to the mix, and my cynicism is ready to critique and analyze every scripture, every doctrine. I keep myself, my heart, aloof from the penetrating truth of scripture, the implications of following Jesus, the simplicity of a child-like faith.
To be cynical is to be distant. While offering a false intimacy of being “in the know,” cynicism actually destroys intimacy. It leads to a creeping bitterness that can deaden and even destroy the spirit.
What’s the cure? Well, if being cynical I’d say “who knows?” Thankfully though, scripture breaks in and points to a simple trust in God who is my refuge and my fortress. I only need abide in the shadow of the Almighty, the shelter of the Most High.
He who dwells in a the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” (Psalm 91: 1-2)
Do you find yourself fighting cynicism? How do you battle creeping cynicism? I’m interested to hear your thoughts.
by Christine on May 27, 2009
I’m reading a terrific little book called Just Do Something by Kevin DeYoung. In an early chapter, Kevin summarizes Robert Wuthnow‘s description of our generation from his book After the Baby Boomers as a generation of tinkerers.
Our grandparents built. Our parents boomed. And my generation? We tinker. …We are seeing a generation of young people grow up (sort of) who tinker with doctrines, tinker with churches, tinker with girlfriends and boyfriends, tinker with college majors, tinker living in and out of their parents’ basement, and tinker with spiritual practices no matter how irreconcilable or divergent.
I may be slightly older then the generation Wuthnow describes. But I too feel the pull of tinkering.
Wuthnow does point out that tinkering is not all bad.
Those who tinker know how to improvise, specialize, pull things apart, and pull people together from a thousand different places.
Some people are more tinkerers then others by nature. I’m a tinkerer. From cooking every ethnic food possible and then combining (Chinese quesadillas anyone?), to never sticking with a 6 week workout program (Kettleball/Pilates combo?), I mix-up, mash-up and tinker.
What about doctrines and spiritual practices. This is where it’s tough. Some will sing heartily, “On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand; All other ground is sinking sand“ and my voice joins with them. My HOPE is built on nothing less! But still I tinker. When I read and study the Westminster Confession, I read divergent strains of thought concurrently. Then comes the mash-up. I try to integrate 16th century Puritan thought with 21st century understanding. To some this spells trouble – a recipe for disaster far worse then Chinese quesadillas. As I read, study and admire reformed worship, I also read about indigenous worship in Africa and South America where the Holy Spirit is moving mightily. A mash-up of Puritan/Continental metric Psalmody and African rhythms intrigues me. But to some, that would be like tying KettleBalls to Pilates and ruin the grace and beauty of reformed worship. Not everybody is a tinkerer.
Are you a tinkerer?
by Christine on April 21, 2009
Continuing Part 2 (Part 1 here) about my interesting plane ride in the middle seat.
Sitting next to me on the aisle was a nice gentleman who I found cheerful and talkative. That is, until the plane started to taxi. It turns out that this middle-aged man was deathly afraid of flying. As a matter of fact, he is also afraid of people, cities, crowded spaces – and flying. He said matter-of-factly, “I have lots of phobias.”
Years ago he lived in New York City. Something happened and he just had to get away. He decided to escape to the Maine woods, where he lives alone in one of the most remote parts of upper-Maine, hours from any civilization. He uses a wood-burning stove, hand pumps his water and enjoys the quiet. Because of the death of a dear friend he was returning from a funeral in Atlanta. It had been years since he’d been around large groups of people, cities, oh – and flying.
Once we were airborne he relaxed. He overheard my Jewish friend at the window happily talking away with me about faith (hers and mine) religions, colleges and futures. He joined in to let us know, he didn’t believe in God. As he lived in the woods surrounded by mountains and indescribable beauty he often wondered if there was a God, but had concluded there was not. He seemed very satisfied in his unbelief.
Unfortunately the story has a sad ending. As we were descending, we hit some turbulence. The gentleman gripped the seat in front of him, started to sweat, tried to muffle his desire to cry-out. He was sure he was going to die. I didn’t know what I could do or say to provide comfort. To face certain death without hope for a future with Christ, is certainly frightening. This was not a good time to witness. This was a time though that I could pray during those last few minutes of descent. I sat in my seat and prayed. Prayed that he’d be O.K., prayed that one day he would put his trust in God, prayed that he would find rest for his troubled soul. I also prayed the God would give me the right words of comfort to say if that was the right thing. No words came. The plane landed uneventfully. I said good-bye to my Jewish friend and God bless you to my agonostic friend. My prayer today is that those on either side of my middle seat will soon be drawn to the Father to live under his Fatherly care and blessing.
by Christine on April 18, 2009
Plane conversations can be some of the most interesting, if not the most revealing. Yesterday I had the middle seat on a 3 hour flight back to Boston. At the window was a young woman whom I was to discover was an Orthodox Jew. On the aisle was a middle aged gentleman who was afraid of people, afraid of flying, afraid of cities and that was just the beginning – he lived in the Maine woods. The contrast could not be more striking. Window seat – Jewish girl: Middle seat – Evangelical Christian woman: Aisle seat – frightened Agnostic man (more on him in another post).
My conversation with the young woman got me thinking. Why do people dread sitting next to a chatty Evangelical Christian, but would feel completely comfortable sitting next to this young committed Jew? Let me share ten things I learned from her that taught me one important lesson.
- Education – Junior at Brandeis, a highly respected Jewish sponsored university outside of Boston. She chose Brandeis because she wanted a strong Jewish community and a good education.
- Major – Jewish Education with a minor in Hebrew. Would allow her to work in Jewish schools and teach regular classes as well as Jewish studies. Her calling was to be bi-vocational.
- Family – Close family who treasured their Jewish faith above all. Father heads a New York seminary. Mother – is teaching at the graduate level in Jewish Education. Brother is figuring out where to go to college – she’s hoping he’ll choose a school with a strong Jewish community.
- Dreams – she loves archery. She is on the college Archery team and would like to compete more at the National level, and maybe someday at the Olympic level. She works hard six days a week at archery and happily rests on the seventh.
- Dream Roadblock – The Sabbath. She will not compete or practice on the Sabbath. One competitive group allows her to shoot twice on Sunday (a problem, since two competitions in one day can be grueling). The other national organization has not made a provision for those who honor the Sabbath. At this time she does not know how far she can raise her ranking. Without competitive experience at the national level, which would require her to compete on the Sabbath, she may forfeit her dream because of her commitment to God’s command.
- Fun – doing things with the larger Jewish community. Recently she went with some friends to MIT where they sponsored an event called “Jews on Ice”. It was a fun time to get together with other Jewish kids from other Boston area colleges and ice skate They had fun and fellowship as a faith community.
- Work – this year she’s returning to the Jewish camp she has worked at for 6 years. She loves mentoring Jewish young people.
- Vacation – spending a week with friends at a special Passover camp. Celebrated Passover and deepened their roots in their faith.
- Reading – a “Chick Lit” novel in Hebrew, given to her by a friend. She wanted to see if she could read a whole, fun novel in Hebrew. This was not classwork – this was her way of immersing herself even more into Jewish/Hebrew culture.
- Demeanor – Completely comfortable in her identity as a Jew. Content and happy with her past, her presence and the future as it seemed. Spoke easily and freely about her faith, her commitment to it, and without one trace of regret at the cost (i.e. not competing on the Sabbath). Engaging and not threatened by sitting with a committed Christian woman.
What did I learn? Sometimes the best testimony we can give for Christ is simply sharing our lives and our story in a straight forward, happy, contented, unapologetic manner. I found this girl so appealing. I found myself thinking, how fortunate she is to be a Jew with such a strong identity, radical devotion, committed community and a faith informed direction to her future. I want that! And, I want to share that as candidly and winsomely as she did with me.
Anyone sitting next to her would have come a way with a similar feeling – I want that! I hope to work on that, and pray that I can contentedly, candidly, winsomely – with no guile or intimidation share with people my life in Christ, next time I’m in the middle seat.
P.S. It goes without saying that this is not a post about the lostness of being a Jew without being completed by Jesus’s work on the cross. It’s a post about common grace and lessons learned. As I walked down the jetway and said good-bye – I prayed for her. I prayed that the Father would draw her unto himself. I pray for her now.
Part 2 can be found here.
by Christine on April 14, 2009
Ralph Erskine writes a Gospel sonnet that seemed appropriate for Tax Day:
To Caesar what is Caesar’s should be giv’n,
But Caesar must not have what’s due to Heav’n”
So duty should have duty’s room ‘t is true,
But nothing of the glorious Husband’s due.
While means the debt of close attendance crave,
Our whole dependence God alone must have.
If duties, tears, our conscience pacify,
They with the blood of Christ presume to vie.
Means are his vassals’ shall we without grudge
Discard the master, and espouse the drudge?
Paying taxes, it is our duty! and occasionally our drudge:) It is not our happiness, our all in all, and certainly not our husband. Taxes are but a means/duty for the privilege of enjoying the gift of citizenship.
Do we approach Christ the same way? Do we discard the master, and espouse the drudge?
When we faithfully execute our Christian duties, take seriously our holiness and give close attendance to following Christian principles, these are means, these are our duties. With these means we do not get Christ. Our happiness is not dependent on executing our duties, or looking self-righteously to our holiness. Christ our master, is our end.
The hypocrite, the legalist does sin,
To live on duties, not on Christ therein.
He only feeds on empty dishes, plates,
Who doats on means, but at the manna frets.
Let never means content thy soul at all,
Without the Husband, who is all in all.
Cry daily for the happy marriage hour;
To thee belongs the mean, to him the pow’r.
Ralph Erskine, Gospel Sonnets: Or Spiritual Songs (p. 137), 1844
Our duty is not our happiness! Our joy is in Christ! And in Christ is power and joy! Let us never be content with means, content without the Husband, content without Him, who is all in all.
by Christine on April 13, 2009
“The servants of God should learn to measure their own strength; when they greedily take on too many jobs, they may well crack up.” John Calvin
Calvin‘s words are practical, witty and wise in Calvin: Commentaries. Take heed he says:
Each individual should rather confine himself to his own vocation and its prescribed limits. Unless such modesty prevails, everything is confused for God’s truth is rashly torn apart by the stupidity of many. (emphasis added)
Calvin then compares Joseph (Genesis 40:6-8) with Daniel. He points out that when Joseph interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams he did not go beyond that interpretation. But the case of Daniel was different.
Daniel was provided with the spirit of divination to such a degree that he was able to interpret the king’s dream when it had escaped the latter’s memory. Thus we see that Joseph, who was given only half (as much as Daniel), kept himself with its proper limits.
Moreover, Joseph not only guarded himself from all presumption, but also declared that what he had was the gift of God. He said honestly that of himself he possessed nothing. He did not boast that he was keen or clever, but wished only to be known as the minister of God.
Calvin finishes with these words of wisdom:
Our vanity must be controlled, not only that God alone may be glorified and may not be defrauded of his due, but that the prophets, professors, and others who excel in heavenly gifts may humbly submit themselves to the direction of the Spirit.
What I learned: Don’t take on too many jobs especially in areas where God has not gifted you. Confine yourself within your God-given limitations less you tear apart God’s truth with stupidity. Declare all contributions and talents as gifts of God – do not try to be keen or clever as we possess nothing in ourselves. Seek only to be known as servants of God. Lastly, our vanity must be controlled! May God alone be glorified and not defrauded of his due, so that those of us who are gifted in many heavenly gifts may humbly submit themselves to the direction of the Spirit.
From Calvin: Commentaries, (pp. P. 390-392) by John Calvin, Joseph Haroutunian, Louise Pettibone Smith, translated by Joseph Haroutunian
by Christine on April 12, 2009
Crown Him with many crowns
The Lamb upon His throne;
Hark how the heavenly anthem drowns
All music but its own.
Awake, my soul, and sing
Of Him who died for thee
And hail Him as thy matchless King
Through all eternity.
Crown Him the Lord of Love.
Behold His hands and side,
Rich wounds, yet visible above,
In beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky
Can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his wondering eye
At mysteries so bright!
Behold His hands and side,
Rich wounds, yet visible above,
In beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky
Can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his wondering eye
At mysteries so bright!
Crown Him the Lord of Life
Who triumphed o’er the grave
And rose victorious in the strife
For those He came to save.
His glories now we sing
Who died and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring
And lives that death may die.
Crown Him the Lord of Heaven,
Enthroned in worlds above,
Crown Him the King to whom is given
The wondrous name of Love.
Crown Him with many crowns
As thrones before Him fall;
Crown Him, ye kings, with many crowns
For He is King of all.
by Christine on April 10, 2009
Jesus took our curse making Good Friday a Great Friday!
by Christine on March 29, 2009
A Lenten reflection that makes me thankful for Christ’s cross:
But we have our cross to bear, and our whole life is to be a bearing of it. It is not Christ’s cross that we are to carry; that is too heavy for us, and besides, it has been done once and for all. But our cross remains, and much of a Christian life consists in a true, honest, decided bearing of it. Not indeed to be nailed to it, but to take it up and carry it— this is our calling. A cross is presented to each of us when we assume the name of Christ. Horatius Bonar, God’s Way of Holiness, p. 66
by Christine on March 5, 2009
Transplant me, Saviour, from myself,
And graft me into thee;
Then shall the grain of mustard-seed
Spring up into a tree.
Augustus Toplady, Hymns and Poems
Photocredit – JPhillipson
