A Greater Hope

In less than one short week, my beloved Olivia and I will begin the exciting journey of life together as a married couple. I cannot begin to relay how excited I am! I mean, seriously, she is such a wonderful blessing in my life. For example, only she could make me want to swallow my pride and say "I was wrong."

Someone asked recently if we had a prenuptial agreement, to which I replied: "No, there will be no prenuptial agreement. We actually trust each other and endeavor to follow Jesus Christ in love for one another, which means we'll never divorce. No divorce = no prenup. It's as simple as that. Prenup agreements are an advance warning that you don't trust the other person and/or you don't plan on being faithful to them. But that's not us."

Now, how can I be so sure of that? you might wonder. It's a question I often ask myself. How can I know that my own selfishness and pride will not foster bitterness and divisiveness between us and ultimately lead to a divorce? Current statistics, if they are to be believed, claim that over one third of "born again" Christians' marriages end in separation.

It's because I know that my hope for living in love does not depend solely on myself; my hope is in God's great promises to purify my desires and make me increasingly more loving and selfless:

"They will be my people, and I will be their God.* I will give them singleness of heart and action, so that they will always fear me for their own good and the good of their children after them. I will make an everlasting covenant with them: I will never stop doing good to them, and I will inspire them to fear me, so that they will never turn away from me. I will rejoice in doing them good and will assuredly plant them in this land with all my heart and soul." (Jeremiah 32:38-41)

"I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws." (Ezekiel 36:24-27)

"And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit." (2 Corinthians 3:18)

When by faith we have communion with Christ, we have Christ in us, "the hope of glory" (Colossians 1:27). Yes, our greatest hope, sharing in Jesus' bodily glorification and complete freedom from sin, will not be our possession until after his return. But even now we possess his Spirit and are being renewed. This is no mere wishful thinking, for if it is, then God is a liar. These promises of God have been my courage and my comfort since this past fall concerning a lasting marriage with Olivia. I have brought these promises of God's before his throne in prayer many times, claiming his faithfulness to his word and reminding him that his Name would be defaced if he doesn't hold true to this.

In short, Olivia and I, sinners that we are, can boldly go forth into marriage because God's purposes and grace are more powerful than any evil. It is the Lord Christ who is the Omega; he gets the last word in our lives and in all of history. And it is his promise that his own loving heart and fear of God will be wrought within us, bit by bit, day by day, as by faith we go under those waters of our baptism--letting our old desires and ways be put to death in Christ that a new self might be born within us.**

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*I am aware that the passages from Jeremiah and Ezekiel were first spoken to Israel in her exile. But these promises are certainly not for Jews alone; they belong to the "everlasting covenant" of grace into which the entire worldwide church has been engrafted through faith in Christ and his gospel. In a nutshell, the apostolic message of the New Testament is that the promises of deliverance and kingdom given to Israel were now being fulfilled through the Messiah, and they have been opened up to all nations, that they too might share in Messiah's benefits. Hence Paul can call the Gentile Galatian church "the Israel of God" (Galatians 6:15-16; cf. Ephesians 2:12-13; 3:6).

** See Romans 6:3-4; Galatians 3:26-27; Colossians 2:11-13.

Colson on Catechesis

Chuck Colson has written an engaging article about the need for re-instructing the church in the fundamental tenets of the Christian faith. Just this morning I read in my BSF notes about the primacy of knowledge in saving faith, that is, faith in Christ rests in a true understanding of his Person and work. Amen!

I was actually a little surprised to find that such a stalwart of modern American evangelicalism as Colson says that contextualization--culturally packaging Christian doctrine in a way that can more readily be grasped--is "radically different from changing the definitive, concise summary of Christian truth the early church fathers accomplished in their councils." What? The Religious Right upholding the Seven Ecumenical Councils? I'm glad to see it. I think this could be an up-side of many evangelicals' desire for a more "authentic" (read: ancient) faith. Of course, most just want medieval spiritual practices, candles, and "spirituality"; others seeking an authentic faith are stressing "following Jesus" (orthopraxy) over confessing truth about him (orthodoxy). (I specifically think of Emergent movement here.) But if a desire to discover an authentic faith leads to embracing the historical doctrines of Christianity, then that's awesome!

I am also glad to read that Colson says that "personal faith is of course vital, but it is not sufficient." Faith, in itself, is nothing. It's merely, as the reformers put it, the "open hand" that receives Christ and all his benefits. Our faith--our knowledge, assent, and trust--must be in "him who is true" (1 John 5:20).

Is Loss a Gain?

Ha. Life is funny. Or perhaps it's God who's funny, always wanting to keep me on my proverbial toes. You see, on March 5 I had a very positive evaluation by my department chairman and the head principal and they wrote a written recommendation to the school board for my rehire. All was well, right? I felt very grateful to God for knowing that I was filling my role as a teacher with success.

But then came March 12 and another fiat from the school board to cut more employees. (Our district is about $12M in the red.) Guess what? Against his wishes, my principal called me down to tell me the news that I would have to get let go and would not be rehired for next year. For real? I guess the recession isn't just "in the news" anymore.

At first I was pretty upset. But then I realized--with some help from some God-conscious friends--that this may just be God's way of guiding his plan for me. So what if I don't teach in Plainfield again next year? I get to work and/or live somewhere else, and I need to be open to that. The more I thought about it, I realized it wasn't that big of a deal. Maybe it's time to move back to Richmond; Olivia and I are certainly open to the idea of living in the "Promised Land." Maybe something better is in store. Who knows? (God does--and he's always good.)

Armed with that thought, I've been able to be pretty upbeat and hopeful this week. Sure, it'll get tougher after the wedding (April fourth!) and I really get serious about job applications. But right now I am resting in God's care, knowing that with God and with an awesome wife, I can pretty much go anywhere and do anything.

Bonhoeffer on "Cheap Grace"

Reflecting further on this passage in Numbers and people's presumption upon God's graciousness, I thought a few words from Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Cost of Discipleship would be helpful here.

The essence of grace, we suppose, is that the account has been paid in advance [at the Cross]; and, because it has been paid, everything can be had for nothing. Since the cost [of Christ's death] was infinite, the possibilities of using and spending it are infinite. What would grace be if it were not cheap?

He also goes on to define this "cheap grace":

[Cheap grace is] the grace which amounts to the justification of sin without the justification of the sinner who departs from sin and from whom sin departs. Cheap grace is not the kind of forgiveness of sin which frees us from the toils of sin. Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves.

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

I think that viewing justification as God's acceptance of sin instead of the acceptance of the sinner is so insightful. It's so easy for me to think, "Oh, I'm covered by grace; I'm forgiven; I'm set right with God." That's true--I am right before God through faith in Jesus Christ. But my sins never were nor ever will be right. Salvation is eminently personal: I am in fellowship with Christ. But my sins never are. My sins may be expiated, expunged, or propitiated; but they are never justified.

Postponed Grace

In the previous post I wrote about--believe it or not--how God is gracious to hold us to the consequences of our sin. But just because God is gracious and our sins are wiped away in Christ doesn't mean all can be had from God's hand so easily. When Israel refused to enter the Promised Land and God judged them, Moses interceded for them. He pleaded God's grace (Numbers 14:17-19). But many others presumed upon it (14:39-45). They thought that with a glib acknowledgement of their sin, all would be okay. They thought all was immediately amended and that God's favor could be had for nothing. Instead of showing a true, mature faith by humbly accepting the severity of their sin and the necessity of repenting from it, they chose instead to try to conquer their enemies in Canaan. Consequently they were duly routed.

It's not to say that the "promised land" isn't for forgiven, redeemed sinners. It is. But it's precisely that; it's a land that can only be enjoyed by redeemed sinners, those who are freed from sin. Those who still love sin much will love God's gifts least (Numbers 16:13-14). Perhaps God is looking for a certain kind of person to enjoy his gifts, someone who will really be grateful and accept them with gladness, someone who will cherish the things God chooses to give. "Not as the world gives do I give to you," says our Lord (John 14:27). He doesn't give us the same type of crap we can buy off the shelf for pennies but which fails to satisfy--the same junk we crave out of sinful desires. ("Oh, the leeks and onions and garlic we had in Egypt!" Israel moaned.) God gives "good and perfect" blessings (James 1:17), and perhaps for many people he chooses to wait until they will see them as good things. And isn't it all the sweeter to receive a gift if you've had to wait for it?
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Do I err in thinking this? For now it's only a thought, a rumination. Am I confusing Law and Gospel? I don't think so. God's gifts are always gracious--free, undeserved favors upon sinners. But he is free also to give or withhold in the way he so pleases.

Consequences

Can there still be consequences for forgiven sin? That's a question I had to ask myself as I was reading through an account of Israel's greatest national failure, their refusal to occupy the Promised Land (Numbers 13-14). Because many said they would rather die in the desert than trust the Lord and boldly march into the land to do battle with its occupants, the Lord gave them exactly what they wanted: he condemned them to four decades of trackless wandering in the desert until every adult had finally collapsed in death. Not one of the rebels would inherit the land.

It says in Numbers 14:20 that God did indeed forgive their sin; he didn't wipe them out entirely. Their posterity would still go on inherit the Promised Land. But can there still be consequences for forgiven sin? Or, better yet, can God still hold us to the consequences of sin which he has forgiven and canceled? If they're truly forgiven and atoned for, shouldn't any lingering effects be removed? If God is not unjust, then how can he forgive and yet not relieve sin's effects?

If our sins are forgiven in Christ, is he still punishing us? No. In Hebrews 12:6 (quoting Provers 3:11-12) it says that "the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son." Those whom he accepts are accepted on account of having been forgiven of their sins through faith in Jesus Christ (John 1:12). God's wrath no longer remains upon them (John 3:36). So this punishment cannot be a punitive one; rather, it's disciplinary. A father spanks his child to train his child to obey and choose the right way ahead of time. God often chooses to let the results of sin unfold in his children's lives in order to teach us the death and fruitlessness of violating his created order, that is, his law. In the ensuing pain of sin God is mercifully weening us from our vain idolatries and is forming in us a glorious love for him alone. Hebrews 12:10 says that God "disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness"--and "without holiness no one will see the Lord" (v. 14). God's consequences are part of how he strengthens his children to endure until the end and not set our hearts on evil , by which we would fall short of the kingdom (1 Corinthians 10:1-11).

Furthermore, the painful results of sin can never be punishment--for that would be far too small to offset the grievous nature of our sin. Do we really think that losing a job, rocking a marriage, or bearing some measure of public humiliation for our sin is really enough to make full satisfaction for it before God? Absolutely not! Only there at the Cross is justice and satisfaction and reconciliation all in one. Only in the disfigured Man of Sorrows who cried in the shadows, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" is enough punishment for sin. Everything else can only be at best a mild "slap on the wrist" in comparison.

In a strange way, I believe that willing submission to sin's effects shows not little, but great, faith in God's grace, mercy, goodness, and lovingkindness. We don't think, "Dang, God is punishing me for this sin." We know that would mock the Crucified Redeemer and neglect that our reconcilation in him. Humbly submitting to God's rod of discipline is full of faith because it's believing that accounts were in fact settled in full upon Golgotha. God has justified us in Christ and will never condemn us (Romans 8:1, 32-39). So we know what now comes our way must be corrective, not vindictive. It is for our good.

So we ought to rejoice that God our Father is chastising us. It proves us his sons, forms in us "the holiness without which no one will see the Lord" (Hebrews 12:10, 14), and validates our genuine faith so that we will be uplifted in praise and honor (1 Peter 1:6-7).

Maybe the question to ask isn't "Can God justly give temporal consequences for eternally forgiven sin?" The answer is, Yes, he can, and he does. Who am I to question God? But rather we should be glad that he does do so--for he does it as even a merciful act of his favor toward wayward sinners.

Gratitude

Today was The Day. That is, today is when non-tenured teachers were supposed to find out if they weren't going to be rehired for next year. I anxiously dared to open my e-mail inbox, wondering if I was going to have The Meeting today.

No news is good news, I guess.

As the day went on, I found out that two other hard-working science teachers got let go (and one was a two-sport coach, at that!). It was really a numbers game. The district is in debt, the curriculum is changing, and enrollment actually dropped. I'm not entirely in the clear yet, but I heard that today would be "the day" for anyone getting let go.

I hate turning on the news anymore, and the atmosphere is equally paranoid every day in public schools. I heard that a large local district released all of their first-year teachers. But it makes me ever so thankful that God has graciously answered my near-daily prayers for continued employment. (On top of this, two of my students even brought me some of the scrumptious cake they made last night during a "study party"!)

As Olivia has so often reminded me, "The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4:5-7). Thank you, Father, for your kindness toward me through your Son, Jesus Christ.

Whose orthodoxy is it?

A recent issue of Christianity Today magazine examined the rise of Calvinism in an article titled, "Young, Restless, and Reformed." Rallying around the likes of John Piper and John MacArthur (at least as much as they can be considered confessionally Reformed), the theology of "Calvinism" has been growing in evangelical circles. But not everyone is pleased by this. Scot McKnight says this about the so-called "Neo-Reformed" in a few recent posts at the BeliefNet blog (part 1; part 2):

They think the only legitimate and the only faithful evangelicals are Reformed. Really Reformed. In other words, they are "confessing" evangelicals. The only true evangelical is a Reformed evangelical. They are more than happy to call into question the legitimacy and fidelity of any evangelical who doesn't believein classic Reformed doctrines, like double predestination.

Whether or not Reformed Protestants actually believe about "double predestination" what everyone else thinks they do--a gross caricature in my estimate--I find McKnight's criticisms a sharp rebuke to folks like me. You see, I would consider my theological understandings most in conformity with the Reformed tradition. What I think McKnight labels as "Reformed theology" is really the mislabeled "five points of Calvinism," better known as the "doctrines of grace." Granted, this has little to do with the meat of real Reformed theology, which is that all of God's dealings with humanity are subsumed under one of two overarching covenants: a covenant of works and a covenant of grace.

In trying to defend the gospel, though, do we really need the "doctrines of grace"? Are they themselves essential to the gospel--so much so that if someone doesn't adhere to them he has bastardized the message of Christ and is not a true "evangelical"?

In short--yes and no. For starters, it was Lutherans during the 16th-century Reformation who were first called "evangelical," coming from the Latin evangel, or "gospel." Oops. (Granted, Reformed theology during the 16th and 17th centuries looked a whole lot more like Lutheranism than it does now.) Without being too minimalist or vague, here is what I consider essential to the gospel. (I hope you will see that, unlike some versions that are merely propositions or "points," the gospel is really a story in history.)

1. God created the world "very good" and man--Adam and Eve--in his image, for the goal of wholehearted fellowship with and enjoyment of God himself.


2. Through the deceptive agency of Satan, Adam exercised distrust and rebellion and brought God's curse of death--both physical and spiritual--upon all his progeny, that is, all of mankind. All of humanity is covenantally represented "in Adam" and are therefore under sin's guilt, shame, and power. Though God still requires all persons to fully obey God's moral law, they cannot do so and under just condemnation.


3. God graciously promised to provide a Redeemer in whom man would be rescued from sin, and through whom God would reign in righteousness to bring blessing and life to a world dead in sin. (*Addition: These blessings were originally pledged in Eden and then to Abraham and his offspring, later to be given to all persons who shared in Abraham's faith.)


4. Because of man's inability to effect his own restoration through works, God himself lovingly and mercifully took on human flesh in the person of Jesus Christ to achieve the obedience he required from man and to become an unblemished substitute to bear in his own death God's holy and just punishment for man's sin. This loving sacrifice reconciled sinful man to God.


5. Christ's was vindicated by God at his resurrection, and he now reigns from heaven to give his Spirit to all who would repent of their works, futility, and pride, and turn to him for salvation. Such persons are now, by the Spirit, given new birth "in" or "into Christ," are forgiven and declared righteous in him, and receive as a free gift the life Christ himself earned by his obedience.


6. Spiritual fellowship with Christ now transforms believers into a truer image of God.


7. Christ will return physically and visibly before the sight of all the world, and all persons will be raised bodily. Christ will condemn unbelievers to eternal torment and to welcome believers into eternal bliss in the kingdom of God--a new world which is again "very good" where we will honor and enjoy God unendingly.

The Reformed "doctrines of grace" do help to clarify these points and add depth and meaning. But this gospel goes a long way even without such beneficial clarifications. This message is our center. What I think the Heidelberg Catechism or Westminster Confession or Canons of Dordrecht do for us (and why they're ultimately necessary) is that they teach us to place saving agency--and thus all boasting and thanksgiving and honor and praise--squarely with God himself and God alone. They unpack more fully the message that "God saves sinners." We still have much the same gospel. It's just that without the Reformed lens on Scripture we wouldn't know how much praise and credit to really ascribe to God for the salvation we now have. We wouldn't know as well the security with which we lie in God's love and power.

In one sense, the Reformation's theology could be summed up as "Salvation belongs to the Lord; damnation belongs to man." It's a story of two cities, two mediators, two destinies, two ways to be human. So what the church really needs right now is not so much explicit, confessional Reformed orthodoxy, but finely tuned Law-Gospel sensors. We need pastors who are able to rightly able to expose how futile is our merit and how great and continual is our need for justification and life. And such pastors will also be able to lead us to the One in whom this justification and life is freely given.

Saying "I'm Sorry"

I realized while writing in my journal on Saturday that there's a big difference between saying "I'm sorry" and "Will you forgive me?" You may think it's a mere matter of semantics--and I'll let you retain that right--but I think there's a lot more to it.

You see, I'm finding that it's so much harder to ask for forgiveness than to say I'm sorry for doing something. Myabe it's just me, but I get this gut-rumbling, gulp! gotta-swallow (my pride) feeling when I'm deciding between saying "sorry" and the "f-word." (This, of course, usually occurs while I'm nervously twiddling my thumbs and my eyes cast downward--anywhere, really, but at the person I've injured.)

You see, forgiveness can only occur when an actual wrong, an injury, a trespass, has been committed. It has to named for what it is--and then never held against the offender again. "Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you," St. Paul exhorts the Ephesian church (Ephesians 4:32). If I ask someone to forgive me as in Christ God forgave me, then that's painful. God didn't just nonchallantly wipe away our sins. "Eh, it's no big deal. You were flawed anyway, and I'm immutable by human deeds, so no big deal. Shall we let bygones be bygones and call it even?" No, when God forgave us in Christ, he declared our sins for what they really were. "Then God made you alive with Christ, for he forgave all our sins. He canceled the record of the charges against us and took it away by nailing it to the cross" (Colossians 2:13-14 NLT). God didn't hide our sins or gloss over them. Like the Roman executors' custom, God made public our list of offenses, nailing to the cross. Upon Calvary, however, God didn't nail a placard to the cross detailing our sins; he nailed the Sinner himself, Jesus Christ, who bore our own sins in his body.

Asking for forgiveness is hard because it means I must acknowledge that I didn't just make a mistake; I didn't just slip up or have a momentary lapse in judgment. I sinned. I willfully and selfishly did something wrong (gasp!) to another person. It's hard to say that--not only to myself, but to the injured. It's much easier to say, "I'm sorry," because that just implies nothing wrong was really done, perhaps just something regrettable. "I'm sorry for doing that" really means, "I regret the fact that this happened, but I don't really intend to do anything about it." Of course, we can easily believe our own lies, so if we simply say "sorry" enough, it's easy to feel better about ourselves: I didn't do anything deliberately wrong, at least nothing inexcusable, and I've now made proper amends for it. Yeah, right.

But the Cross of Christ speaks a different word. There God exposes us each as manipulative, selfish mercenaries and proves us utterly impotent at making proper amends. But there he also freely provides the only One who is sufficient to make proper amends and to the uttermost atone for all our sins. Yes, even the sin of saying "I'm sorry."

Loss

A week ago I drove up to Michigan for my grandfather's memorial service. Louis H. Bork died at age 86, leaving behind his wife of 61 years, Mona, along with his three children and three more grandchildren. A few things came to mind recently regarding death and loss.

First, it's easy to want to be consoled by the comforting news that Opa is in heaven now because he trusted in Jesus as his Savior from sin. (I'm not entirely certain he did, however, though I have fairly reasonable confidence.) Someone even said at the funeral that he was running around now, youthful and free. I didn't want to be a killjoy, but the biblical evidence seems to say that even those who die in Christ will not have new bodies until all God's children are gathered home and his kingdom is consummated. Our glorious and renewed bodies will be ours only as part of the final inheritance we will receive as God's sons (Romans 8:18-25). In the meantime even those who die justified will, until the Last Judgment, be only "away from the body and at home with the Lord" (2 Corinthians 5:8; cf. Philippians 1:21-24). Of course, this is "better by far"!

You see, death--even for those in Christ--isn't such a great "pathway to glory" as we make it out to be. True humanity, true life, is nothing short of being alive in both body and spirit. That's how we were created, and only when all of the material, physical, earthy cosmos is redeemed and glorified will everything be set right again. (See my older post here.)

This brings me to my second thought. I know that I've lost Opa--for now, at least. He's no longer here. But that doesn't just mean that the Bork/Hall family is down a man; it means we've all changed individually. You see, I can only be a grandson if I have a grandfather. I am no longer Louis Bork's grandson. His beloved Mona (my "Oma") is no longer his wife: "till death us do part"--and death has parted them. We are who we are by virtue of relationships; even Jesus wouldn't be a Son without having been "begotten from the Father before all worlds." There's no telling what measure of who I am in my thoughts, knowledge, worldview, abilities, character, and desires was effected by being Opa's grandson. The loss of a loved one is, for the remainder of our sojourn, a loss of ourselves as well.

Winter Wonderland

Just in case you wish you were in Chicago right now: the actual temperature is -14 degrees Fahrenheit, with a windchill of -34!

Sleep tight!

A Glorious Coincidence?

One of the things I've always been fascinated about when I'm studying the Bible is when I see texts--words, stories, images--tie together and unfold each other. Imagery congeals into fleshy subtance. Meaning precipitates. Events echo and reverberate. Propositions polymerize into connected chains. (Can you tell I'm a science teacher?)

One such instance occurred yesterday morning as I was reading the closing chapters of Exodus. In chapters 35-40 the erection of the tabernacle is described in detail. The tabernacle, or tent of meeting, was meant to be the site where sinful Israel would meet with her holy God--but not without a covering of blood, the life which atoned for her sin.

As its construction reached completion, the following words are recorded:

Thus all the work of the tabernacle of the tent of meeting was finished, and the people of Israel did according to all that the LORD had commanded Moses; so they did. . . . According to all that the LORD had commanded Moses, so the people of Israel had done all the work. And Moses saw all the work, and behold, they had done it; as the LORD had commanded, so had they done it. Then Moses blessed them. (39:32, 42-43 ESV)

Then the following words bring the building phase to its end: "So Moses finished the work" (40:33).

As I chewed on this passage, Genesis 1:31--2:3 came to mind.

And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.

Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them. And on the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it God rested from all his work that he had done in creation.

The italicized words may be a coincidence, an artefact of my overly-enthusiastic imagination. But didn't Moses pen them all? It seems to me that there is some direct and intentional parallelism going on here. But what might it mean? In creation, God finished the work he had done; he saw that it was good and blessed it with his favor and approval. When Moses saw that the people had finished the tabernacle according to God's commands, he blessed them as well.*

The story doesn't end there, though. As the sign of his approval, the Lord's radiant shekinah glory-cloud moved in to the tabernacle and took up residence, dwelling there among his people. "Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle" (Exodus 40:34). Whereas once he refused to meet with sinful, idolatrous Israel within the borders of her camp, opting instead for the top of Mt. Sinai or a tent of meeting outside the camp, God now moved to dwell among his people and reveal his glory there.

Does this imply that in the creation of the universe, God was preparing for himself a place to dwell as the universe's King? Or does it perhaps reveal that the tabernacle is the creation of God's new dwelling place on earth? Should the reader infer that Israel herself is the beginning of a new, redemeed creation of sorts? Taking it further, what does this mean for the church, the fullness of Israel, where God dwells with his covenant people by means of the life-offering of Jesus Christ? I haven't put a lot of thought into it beyond this, but I think it is so awesome to see these sort of connections in Scripture. To me they reveal so much; they are the lifeblood (no pun intended) of study. How much of this stuff is going on in the New Testament as it echoes and retells the Old, and we just don't see it?

"And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God' " (Revelation 21:3).
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*Another thing I thought of was that in Genesis 1, God commands or speaks, and his Spirit carries it out. In Exodus 35-40, God lays out the plan for the tabernacle in his commands to Moses, and the Spirit fills Bezalel and Oholiab with the wisdom and skill needed to craft and engineer it.

Update 1/6/09

Man, I guess I haven't had a legitimate post on here in a while. But that may become the norm, sad to say. I haven't been reading much, and books often prove to be food for thought. Internet access is hard to come by these days--not to mention that my laptop is kaput. On top of that, I've been traveling a lot, including several days in Michigan to see my grandfather before he died last Friday.

I've actually thought very little about him over the past few days. I'm not sure why.

I didn't cry when I found out. I'm not sure why either, but I know that it has been several years since I last cried. At least I came close this time.

Twelve Days of Christmas--a la Turka

I may have posted this in the past during my days living overseas. I don't remember. But nonetheless I think this travel article is hilarious, entertaining, and based entirely on gross generalizations about life in southern Turkey. Who knew that jolly ol' Saint Nick was from Asia Minor, eh?

Yes, Mustafa, there IS a Santa Claus!

Engagement Photos

Since I'm currently unable to upload some photos from the day of our engagement, you can check out a few that her mom posted at her site.

http://susanakahalfmom.blogspot.com/2008/12/among-other-things.html

Isn't Olivia beautiful?

We're engaged!

Old news is betters than no news, so . . .

OLIVIA SAID SHE'LL MARRY ME!

Here's how it happened:

Last Saturday, December 13, we were going to go into the city for my birthday (Dec. 16). I had originally wanted to go ice skating at Millenium Park for my "birthday," because one of the first things Olivia and I did together was she taught me how to ice skate.

Well, as it turned out, the weather was awful: 38 degrees with sleet and wind gusts of up to 40 mph. So we had a quick change of plans: we went to a European bookstore near Loyola's watertower campus, and then we took the El to Olivia's surprise birthday gift for me: a splendid Turkish restaurant on Belmont near Halsted and Clark. The food was excellent, and I even got to speak some Turkish with the waiter.

As our meal progressed, Olivia said, "You're awfully quiet. Is there something on your mind?" (Duh!) I pulled out a flyer from an antique store in Richmond's Carytown district which we had visited back in March. I then read to her a journal entry from that day, how that had really turned around our relationship and showed me how wonderful she really is. Then, to commemorate that day, I pulled out an "early Christmas gift" I had purchased from that antique store: an inlaid soapstone jewelry box. However, I set it aside and told her she couldn't open it yet. (Good work, Susan, on the black velveteen gift bag!)

Then I read Olivia another journal entry about two times when she had held out her hand to me, which meant the world to me. The first time it was to encourage, challenge, and coach me; the second was to offer her forgiveness, reconcilation, and acceptance.

After this, I got down on my right knee (well, technically I got up on my knee, since we were sitting on the floor on pillows), opened the jewelry box which contained the engagement ring, and offered her my hand. I told her I wanted to be hers for the rest of my life and then asked her to marry me. With a tone of voice that spoke in glad confidence and resolution, she replied, "Yes, yes, absolutely yes."

I took the ring out of the box and put it on her left ring finger. Not knowing exactly what to do next, we both sort of just stayed there, smiling and squeezing one another's hand. But I could've stayed in that moment forever.

Every day I think now, She's going to be my wife in a matter of months! We'll get to spend every day of the rest of our lives together, and we'll never need to leave each other. It just blows my mind. It's the first thing I think about when I wake up and when I go to bed. I am filled with awe, wonder, and gratitude to God when I think of what a gift she is and of the holy mystery that is marriage.

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P.S. For whatever reason, Blogger is not allowing me to upload photos properly right now, and it's doing all kinds of screwy stuff with the line spacing. I'll try to get some photos posted at some time in the new year. In the meantime I'll be traveling all over the U.S. to spend Christmas with family.

Advent: God Drawing Near

It's almost inescapable: Christmas is celebrated with placid pastoral scenes of a babe cradled in a bed of straw, with his adoring parents around him beaming. (Of course, in many nativity scenes, the holy family are literally beaming with light!) We think it's a time of good cheer and peacefulness, a time of repose, a time to say, "no more worries." And all that it is. But as I've been studying Exodus over the past few months, the picture painted there of God-come-down is entirely different.

On the morning of the third day there was thunder and lightning, with a thick cloudover the mountain, and a very loud trumpet blast. Everyone in the camp trembled. Then Moses led the people out of the camp to meet with God, and they stood at the foot of the mountain. Mount Sinai was covered with smoke, because the LORD descended on it in fire. The smoke billowed up from it like smoke from a furnace, the whole mountain trembled violently, and the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder. Then Moses spoke and the voice of God answered him. (Exodus 19:16-19)

When the God of the heavens tore open the heavens and came down to meet with his chosen people, he came as "a consuming fire" (24:17). "Our God comes and will not be silent," attests the psalmist. "A fire devours before him, and around him a tempest rages" (Psalm 50:3). God coming to Earth is not a welcome sight for most people. Just ask King David!

In the same sermon from 1928 which I quoted from earlier, Dietrich Bonhoeffer says much the same--that the fearful event of God-among-us should lead Advent to be a time of self-examination.

Perhaps, after all, Advent is a time for self-examination before we open the door [to Christ]. When we stop to consider, the contrast between those early Christians and us is extraordinary. They trembled at the thought of God coming, of the day of the Lord, when Jesus, "Judge eternal, throned in splendor," would shatter the complacency of all the world. But we take the thought of God coming among us so calmly. It is all the more remarkable when we remember that we so often associate the signs of God in the world with human suffering, the cross on Golgotha. Perhaps we have thought so much of God as love eternal and we feel the warm pleasures of Christmas when he comes gently like a child. We have been shielded from the awful nature of Christmas and no longer feel afraid at the coming near of God Almighty. We have selected from the Christmas story only the pleasant bits, forgetting the awesome nature of an event in which the God of the universe, its Creator and Sustainer, draws near to this little planet, and now speaks to us. The coming of God is not only a message of joy, but also fearful news for anyone who has a conscience.

It's difficult for me to keep this in mind, when I've got 27 Christmases of warmth and cheer behind me. But perhaps only when we consider this, pondering it in wonder and awe, will the child who becomes the Prince of Peace really be good news.

(Not) Advent: Rilke on Waiting

Okay, so this isn't exactly either Advent-related or even Christian-related, for that matter. But in view of the Bonhoeffer quote from my previous post, I thought I'd add this quote which I've always taken to heart. It's from the early twentieth-century German poet Rainer Maria Rilke, in his Letters to a Young Poet (letter 4, July 16, 1903).

Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

Since the time an education professor of mine at Michigan State first shared this with us, I've found a bit of comfort in this. Questions and uncertainty and waiting are okay, Rilke exhorts us. Moreover, they're something to be lived through, involved in, and borne with patience. In my own life, I think that it has been times of uncertainty, longing, and wonder--those liminal moments when I stand on the threshold of a significant decision and must take a step in one direction or another--when I most live in fear-of-the-Lord. And that's when I feel the most alive.

Advent: Bonhoeffer on Waiting

Celebrating Advent means learning how to wait. Waiting is an art which our impatient age has forgotten. We want to pluck the fruit before it has had time to ripen. Greedy eyes are soon disappointed when what they saw as luscious fruit is sour to the taste. In disappointment and disgust they throw it away. The fruit, full of promise, rots on the ground. It is rejected without thanks by disappointed hands.

The blessedness of waiting is lost on those who cannot wait, and the fulfillment of promise is never theirs. They want quick answers to the deepest questions of life and miss the value of those times of anxious waiting, seeking with patient uncertainties until the answers come. They lose the moment when the answers are revealed with dazzling clarity.

Who has not felt the anxieties of waiting for the declaration of friendship or love? The greatest, the deepest, the most tender experiences in all the world demand patient waiting. This waiting is not in emotional turmoil, but gently growing, like the emergence of spring, like God's laws,* like the germinating of a seed.

Not all can wait--certainly not those who are satisfied, contented, and feel that they live in the best of all possible worlds! Those who learn to wait are uneasy about their way of life, but yet have seen a vision of greatness in the world of the future and are patiently expecting its fulfillment. The celebration of Advent is possible only to those who are troubled in soul, who know themselves to be poor and imperfect, and who look forward to something greater to come. For these, it is enough to wait in humble fear until the Holy One himself comes down to us, God in the child in the manger. God comes. The Lord Jesus comes. Christmas comes. Christians rejoice!

In a few weeks we shall hear that cry of triumph. . . . But, not so quick! It is still in the distance. It calls us to learn to wait and to wait aright.

-- Dietrich Bonhoeffer, from a sermon delivered in Barcelona on Dec. 2, 1928.

Text: Revelation 3:20

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*Presumably Bonhoeffer means the laws that govern the natural order.

Giving Thanks

Every class period of mine begins with five minutes for a "warm-up" question or prompt to help establish a routine, transition students' focus from the hallway chatter to the lesson, and either to review yesterday's main point or to set up the day's lesson. But yesterday I asked everyone to write down a few things they were grateful for. But if I was sitting in that desk, here's what I'd have written:

I'm thankful for . . .

. . . probably very little, actually. The Holy Spirit urges that we are to be thankful for everything and in every circumstance (Ephesians 5:20; Colossians 2:7; 3:15-18; 1 Thessalonians 5:18). I usually complain or, perhaps more usually, take things for granted instead of acknowledging that I owe my very existence to God. All I am and possess I have received from him. "What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not?" (1 Corithians 4:7).

. . . forgiveness of my every trespass, justification, and full-bodied righteousness as free gifts; entrance into the kingdom of God; the guarantee of the Holy Spirit; the sure intheritance of life everlasting in the dwelling place of God.

. . . one year with my wonderful girlfriend Olivia. We can have fun together, whether it's a water fight, playing catch, or looking at paintings. We can pray together--and she is sure teaching me to pray God's Word back to him. We're slowly learning to listen to one another and to communicate. We can encourage each other and "speak the truth in love." We can even do nothing together! Plus she's "pretty darn attractive," I might add.

. . . not going crazy upon moving from Virginia to the Prairie State.

. . . a job where I'm able to be challenged as an educator without being placed under extreme duress or in a hazardous situation.

. . . health insurance and a steady paycheck.

. . . the Spinas' extended hospitality.

. . . another autumn, even if not as beautiful as earlier ones.

. . . a new apartment that is big enough--and for furniture from some generous donors!

. . . parents who are still married and who listen to me (and for one other "parent" who also listens and counsels me).

. . . grilled cheese sandwiches and Campbell's cream of tomato soup.

. . . flavorful beers.

. . . the pale winter light and skeletal, barren trees. The dim lavenders, umbers, ashes, and straws brushed across the horizontal landscape are increasingly beautiful to behold.

. . . friendships both new and old.

. . . the fact that I not only own one Bible, but in fact several.

. . . my ability to read and think, to understand directions, and to dissect written material. I'm learning from my students never to take any simple task for granted.


Oh, and lest we forget, we owe this entire Thanksgiving holiday to a boatfull of crazy Calvinists who made their way across the vast Atlantic to pursue true worship of God. Oops, did I say that?