While on our cruise, I excitedly awaited our final port of call: Cozumel, Mexico. We planned to go to the beach at Chankanaab National Park with the kids. Knowing we could snorkel there, I bought the kids and I some cheap equipment while in Belize.
The afternoon after purchasing the equipment, I took the kids to the ship's pool to show them how. My oldest loved it. The younger two--not so much. They decided wearing the mask was o.k., but the snorkel wasn't fun to breathe through. Their choice.
When we arrived in Cozumel, we packed up the equipment, minus the youngest kid's snorkels and headed to Chankanaab. The beauty of the beach was breath taking. The kids couldn't wait to get in the water.
At the recommendation of the beach staff, we put all the kids in life vests and headed to the appropriate entry places--Cozumel is a coral atoll, and there are several places where there is no gradual entry into the water. You literally have to climb down rocks or metal stairs to enter. The kids weren't thrilled with that, but they still couldn't wait to swim.
My eldest began snorkeling right away. My middle child, put on her mask and began observing the underwater features. My son had decided to forgo any thoughts of snorkeling when we were putting our stuff in the lockers. "I don't want my mask!" he dictated.
Suddenly, my eldest surfaced. "Check out all the fish!!!" she exclaimed.
My middle child stuck her head underwater, surfaced, and shouted out, "Cool. They are so close. I almost touched one!"
My son yelled out, "I want my mask!!!"
Fortunately, he has a nice uncle who went back and got it.
Maybe he learned a lesson. Maybe.
In our world--particularly in our United States Culture--we have an affinity for everything new. We have an affinity for the latest and greatest. We believe we need to focus on the young folks who have new and amazing insights. We need to strive to experience things ourselves and forge new pathways.
There is nothing wrong with this--as long as it is rooted and grounded in the wisdom of the past.
I mean that in all sincerity. I used to be one of those craving the newest and latest stuff--especially in the Church. New insights into theology; new worship music; new methods of interpreting Scripture. This was the stuff which would turn the decline of the Church in the U.S. around.
NOT!
If my son would have listened to me, he would have taken his mask with him from the get go. He would have understood there was something really neat to experience under the water for which his mask would be a huge asset. But wanting to do things on his own without regard for the knowledge I had, he almost missed out. Almost. Fortunately, I had the forethought to pack his mask even though he was adamant he didn't want it.
Perhaps it is time many of us in the Church listen more carefully to those who have gone before. Perhaps it's time to acknowledge contemporary scholars and their contributions to theology, but to ask them, "How does this relate to the Old Time Religion--the religion founded upon grace; the religion that cuts everyone to the heart (Acts 2); the religion which states there is no other Gospel (Galatians 2).
"For it is by grace that you have been saved through faith," and this is not any work that you did on your own. It was God's work, and God's work alone. This is the wisdom of those who have gone before--extending back to the earliest disciples of Jesus. This was the message which caught the world by fire (the Spirit) and water (baptism).
Much of the church in the U.S.'s focus is on what we are supposed to do instead of what God has already accomplished. We have done a poor job of being heralds. We love being advisers and telling people what they should do. We focus on our action instead of God's.
Perhaps it's time to trust the wisdom of those who have gone before.
A Lutheran preacher in rural Texas examines the Christian faith and life in general.
Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Monday, February 10, 2014
I Decided to Know Nothing Except Christ Crucified
St. Paul writes, “When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. 2For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. 3And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. 4My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, 5so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.”
Most of my life and in most of my time as an ordained minister, I have tried to do the exact opposite of what St. Paul says in these opening words of the second chapter of 1 Corinthians. I hate to admit this. I really do. I hate to admit that for most of my career, I have tried diligently to learn as much as I can and then show how learned I am. I have tried using lofty words of wisdom in my sermons, on my blog, in Bible study, and in conversation. I have oftentimes been convinced that such lofty words of wisdom will convince many in today’s society of the reasonableness of Christianity. I have oftentimes been convinced that Christianity has all the answers to all the questions that exist and that if I just learn them and articulate them, well, then I can have a tremendous impact in the lives of others. I have oftentimes been convinced that our churches simply need to get with the right train of theological thought–the right train of wisdom, and then all will be well.
I don’t think I am alone in what I have done and to some extent continue to do. It’s the way the world works. I mean, just browse through the comments section on any particular political article. Jump onto an internet message board and read through any particularly controversial thread. Look at what stands out when people engage in dialogue about such subjects. Well, first filter through the comments which are simply baseless attacks. Then, read the more serious ones. See what they do. Time and again, they list: point by point; reason by reason why their “side” is correct. Time and again, they will provide links to studies, articles, and citations to bolster their particular point of view. Time and again, they will show statistics and numbers to prove their particular position. All of the facts must be shown, and once the facts are presented, then one shouldn’t be able to argue with my position. After all, I am right! I have the facts on my side. I have thoroughly researched this issue, and by God, I know what I am talking about.
Oftentimes, the rebuttals are swift, and one of my favorite ones is, “So, you have a degree in whatever subject matter is at hand, I suppose? You are a climate scientist, a social scientist, a biologist, a biblical scholar, a doctor, a political science major, a lawyer, or what have you. The rebuttal is that unless you have studied the subject matter and have a degree in it, then you are not qualified to speak with any kind of authority on the matter.
It’s part and parcel in the way the world works. We love appealing to our experts. We love appealing to those who have numerous letters behind their names. Of course, if certain experts disagree with us, then we will find other experts, but hey, that’s the game, isn’t it? Lofty titles. Large degrees. Plenty of status. That’s what awes people into believing what you have to say.
I am reminded at this point of a joke I love to tell. It’s about a church congregation president who decided to call on several members who hadn’t been in church for some time. He goes to see Farmer Joe.
Farmer Joe is out in the field chopping cotton. Bob parks his car down in the turning row and walks up to Joe.
“Hey Joe! How’ve you been?”
“Aiiight,” Joe replies.
Bob continues, “Haven’t seen you in church in a while, Joe. Thought you might like to come back.”
Joe wipes the sweat off his brow, spits in the dirt and says, “Well, why should I come back to church?”
Bob says, “Joe, you have got to come and hear the new preacher we got! He’s fantastic!”
Joe slowly says, “Well, what makes this here preacher so special?”
Bob replies enthusiastically, “Joe, he’s got a B.S. an M.S. and a PhD!”
Joe shakes his head and says, “Well, that settles it. I ain’t a comin’ to church as long as that preacher’s there.”
Bob is taken aback. He can hardly believe his ears. “W-w-w-why?” he stammers.
Joe spits in the dirt and says, “Well, we all know what B.S. is. M.S. is just more of the same. And PhD is piled high and deep.”
Don’t laugh too hard now. I personally have a master’s degree.
But there is something to be said here. There is something to be said regarding those who try to proclaim the message of God based in wisdom and lofty words. There is something to be said about those who claim to have special knowledge of God and how God operates. There is something to be said for those like myself and others who have tried time and again to use knowledge and reason and other such things to talk about God–to try and convince everyone that we’ve got it down pat when it comes to knowing and understanding God and His ways.
And that something is not necessarily pretty. You see Paul was onto something when he proclaimed the Gospel to the Gentiles. “I didn’t come with words of wisdom. I chose only to know Christ crucified that your faith may not rest on worldly wisdom but on the power of God.”
You see, Paul knew it wasn’t what he knew that counted. Paul knew it wasn’t about what he had accomplished. Paul knew his resume wasn’t the important part of the equation. Paul knew very well that it wasn’t about anything he had done that mattered. If people were resting their faith on what Paul had done, there would be problems. But if they rested their faith on what God had done, well, then that was quite a different story. And now we must ask: what has God done?
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world, but that the world may be saved through Him.
On the cross, Jesus died–God died–to reconcile the world unto Himself. God died to pay the price of forgiveness–to take away our shame, our guilt, our debt to Him. It was on the cross that the world’s redemption took place. “When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. 2For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”
I am beginning to change, my brothers and sisters. I am trying to leave behind this notion that I must be filled with lofty wisdom and knowledge and understanding. I am trying to leave behind the notion that I have to be super-knowledgeable about Christianity, the Bible, all sorts of theology. I am working to focus on the main thing: Christ crucified and the grace that flows from the cross. It’s all about that grace. It’s all about what God has done. None of us need a degree to proclaim it. All of us can do it, and when we do, we live God’s Word daily. Amen.
Most of my life and in most of my time as an ordained minister, I have tried to do the exact opposite of what St. Paul says in these opening words of the second chapter of 1 Corinthians. I hate to admit this. I really do. I hate to admit that for most of my career, I have tried diligently to learn as much as I can and then show how learned I am. I have tried using lofty words of wisdom in my sermons, on my blog, in Bible study, and in conversation. I have oftentimes been convinced that such lofty words of wisdom will convince many in today’s society of the reasonableness of Christianity. I have oftentimes been convinced that Christianity has all the answers to all the questions that exist and that if I just learn them and articulate them, well, then I can have a tremendous impact in the lives of others. I have oftentimes been convinced that our churches simply need to get with the right train of theological thought–the right train of wisdom, and then all will be well.
I don’t think I am alone in what I have done and to some extent continue to do. It’s the way the world works. I mean, just browse through the comments section on any particular political article. Jump onto an internet message board and read through any particularly controversial thread. Look at what stands out when people engage in dialogue about such subjects. Well, first filter through the comments which are simply baseless attacks. Then, read the more serious ones. See what they do. Time and again, they list: point by point; reason by reason why their “side” is correct. Time and again, they will provide links to studies, articles, and citations to bolster their particular point of view. Time and again, they will show statistics and numbers to prove their particular position. All of the facts must be shown, and once the facts are presented, then one shouldn’t be able to argue with my position. After all, I am right! I have the facts on my side. I have thoroughly researched this issue, and by God, I know what I am talking about.
Oftentimes, the rebuttals are swift, and one of my favorite ones is, “So, you have a degree in whatever subject matter is at hand, I suppose? You are a climate scientist, a social scientist, a biologist, a biblical scholar, a doctor, a political science major, a lawyer, or what have you. The rebuttal is that unless you have studied the subject matter and have a degree in it, then you are not qualified to speak with any kind of authority on the matter.
It’s part and parcel in the way the world works. We love appealing to our experts. We love appealing to those who have numerous letters behind their names. Of course, if certain experts disagree with us, then we will find other experts, but hey, that’s the game, isn’t it? Lofty titles. Large degrees. Plenty of status. That’s what awes people into believing what you have to say.
I am reminded at this point of a joke I love to tell. It’s about a church congregation president who decided to call on several members who hadn’t been in church for some time. He goes to see Farmer Joe.
Farmer Joe is out in the field chopping cotton. Bob parks his car down in the turning row and walks up to Joe.
“Hey Joe! How’ve you been?”
“Aiiight,” Joe replies.
Bob continues, “Haven’t seen you in church in a while, Joe. Thought you might like to come back.”
Joe wipes the sweat off his brow, spits in the dirt and says, “Well, why should I come back to church?”
Bob says, “Joe, you have got to come and hear the new preacher we got! He’s fantastic!”
Joe slowly says, “Well, what makes this here preacher so special?”
Bob replies enthusiastically, “Joe, he’s got a B.S. an M.S. and a PhD!”
Joe shakes his head and says, “Well, that settles it. I ain’t a comin’ to church as long as that preacher’s there.”
Bob is taken aback. He can hardly believe his ears. “W-w-w-why?” he stammers.
Joe spits in the dirt and says, “Well, we all know what B.S. is. M.S. is just more of the same. And PhD is piled high and deep.”
Don’t laugh too hard now. I personally have a master’s degree.
But there is something to be said here. There is something to be said regarding those who try to proclaim the message of God based in wisdom and lofty words. There is something to be said about those who claim to have special knowledge of God and how God operates. There is something to be said for those like myself and others who have tried time and again to use knowledge and reason and other such things to talk about God–to try and convince everyone that we’ve got it down pat when it comes to knowing and understanding God and His ways.
And that something is not necessarily pretty. You see Paul was onto something when he proclaimed the Gospel to the Gentiles. “I didn’t come with words of wisdom. I chose only to know Christ crucified that your faith may not rest on worldly wisdom but on the power of God.”
You see, Paul knew it wasn’t what he knew that counted. Paul knew it wasn’t about what he had accomplished. Paul knew his resume wasn’t the important part of the equation. Paul knew very well that it wasn’t about anything he had done that mattered. If people were resting their faith on what Paul had done, there would be problems. But if they rested their faith on what God had done, well, then that was quite a different story. And now we must ask: what has God done?
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world, but that the world may be saved through Him.
On the cross, Jesus died–God died–to reconcile the world unto Himself. God died to pay the price of forgiveness–to take away our shame, our guilt, our debt to Him. It was on the cross that the world’s redemption took place. “When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. 2For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”
I am beginning to change, my brothers and sisters. I am trying to leave behind this notion that I must be filled with lofty wisdom and knowledge and understanding. I am trying to leave behind the notion that I have to be super-knowledgeable about Christianity, the Bible, all sorts of theology. I am working to focus on the main thing: Christ crucified and the grace that flows from the cross. It’s all about that grace. It’s all about what God has done. None of us need a degree to proclaim it. All of us can do it, and when we do, we live God’s Word daily. Amen.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Thanks, Grandpa.
"I didn't accomplish much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on pretty good terms."
The words brought tears to my eyes as my 94 year old grandfather spoke them.
I make no bones about some of the deepest desires of my heart. I know myself, and I know what is down there. I want to accomplish much in the eyes of the world. I really do. I want, not just to be a good pastor, but a pastor who is recognized as a great proclaimer of the Gospel; a tremendous advocate for the Christian faith; a builder of congregations to where they are full and overflowing. I want to be recognized as a writer and apologist of the faith--who makes a generous salary by his working and who can enjoy some of the pleasures of life while generously giving of what I received to others, so that I can again be recognized as generous. I want to be noticed for what I do, what I proclaim, what I say, what I write, and so on and so forth. I know this about myself deep down, and I also know that such desires oftentimes run counter to what Jesus actually calls His disciples to do and be.
This January, I will turn 40. For some, it's not a big number, but given the average age males live to, it's pushing half of my life. Taking stock of things, I realize that I am well known in my particular neck of the woods, but according to worldly eyes, I haven't accomplished much. Don't know that I actually will.
Part of me grieves to say that.
Really. I am not joking at all.
"Put your finger in a bucket of water, and then take it out. That's probably all the difference you will actually make in this world."
I didn't want to believe that statement, but given the scope of things in the world, it's a pretty honest statement.
"I didn't accomplish much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on pretty good terms."
Grandpa didn't make this statement filled with any sort of haughtiness or pride. It was the statement of one who served God, served Jesus Christ for his life. He preached the Word in several places throughout the United States of America, always at rural congregations none of which grew to tremendous size. He spent hours gardening and taking produce to his congregation members who needed fresh vegetables. He visited the sick. He kibitzed with parishioners. Raised four children. Was a devoted husband. None of these things moved mountains or brought about justice and peace on earth. None of these things brought about perfect harmony in the towns he lived or ensured congregations he served were free of conflict. He didn't climb any ladders. Didn't accumulate boatloads of wealth. He has to watch every penny as he tries to manage with arthritis and the weakness of muscles that living 94 years brings.
But he doesn't complain about it. He doesn't get worked up about what he can or cannot accomplish. He has come to a place of peace. He knows that his time on earth is relatively short. He knows that there is one surpassing value--a value which will last forever: his relationship with the Lord.
"I didn't accomplish much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on pretty good terms."
I teared up when Grandpa spoke those words because this is where I want to be. In my estimation, those words are filled with wisdom as they grasp what is truly important. I have begun to pray, "Lord, take from me the desire to accomplish much in the eyes of the world. Through Your grace, I know we are on good terms, and that is enough."
Thanks Grandpa.
The words brought tears to my eyes as my 94 year old grandfather spoke them.
I make no bones about some of the deepest desires of my heart. I know myself, and I know what is down there. I want to accomplish much in the eyes of the world. I really do. I want, not just to be a good pastor, but a pastor who is recognized as a great proclaimer of the Gospel; a tremendous advocate for the Christian faith; a builder of congregations to where they are full and overflowing. I want to be recognized as a writer and apologist of the faith--who makes a generous salary by his working and who can enjoy some of the pleasures of life while generously giving of what I received to others, so that I can again be recognized as generous. I want to be noticed for what I do, what I proclaim, what I say, what I write, and so on and so forth. I know this about myself deep down, and I also know that such desires oftentimes run counter to what Jesus actually calls His disciples to do and be.
This January, I will turn 40. For some, it's not a big number, but given the average age males live to, it's pushing half of my life. Taking stock of things, I realize that I am well known in my particular neck of the woods, but according to worldly eyes, I haven't accomplished much. Don't know that I actually will.
Part of me grieves to say that.
Really. I am not joking at all.
"Put your finger in a bucket of water, and then take it out. That's probably all the difference you will actually make in this world."
I didn't want to believe that statement, but given the scope of things in the world, it's a pretty honest statement.
"I didn't accomplish much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on pretty good terms."
Grandpa didn't make this statement filled with any sort of haughtiness or pride. It was the statement of one who served God, served Jesus Christ for his life. He preached the Word in several places throughout the United States of America, always at rural congregations none of which grew to tremendous size. He spent hours gardening and taking produce to his congregation members who needed fresh vegetables. He visited the sick. He kibitzed with parishioners. Raised four children. Was a devoted husband. None of these things moved mountains or brought about justice and peace on earth. None of these things brought about perfect harmony in the towns he lived or ensured congregations he served were free of conflict. He didn't climb any ladders. Didn't accumulate boatloads of wealth. He has to watch every penny as he tries to manage with arthritis and the weakness of muscles that living 94 years brings.
But he doesn't complain about it. He doesn't get worked up about what he can or cannot accomplish. He has come to a place of peace. He knows that his time on earth is relatively short. He knows that there is one surpassing value--a value which will last forever: his relationship with the Lord.
"I didn't accomplish much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on pretty good terms."
I teared up when Grandpa spoke those words because this is where I want to be. In my estimation, those words are filled with wisdom as they grasp what is truly important. I have begun to pray, "Lord, take from me the desire to accomplish much in the eyes of the world. Through Your grace, I know we are on good terms, and that is enough."
Thanks Grandpa.
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