the path to encouragement: endure the season

the two year old has been sick for a couple days now. pathetic really. heavy eyes. sluggish. so the other day, as i held her in my arms, i was trying to get her to smile. it took some work but i was finally able to. we've all experienced it. the power of such a seemingly minor facial change. it creates a space. not for long, but in the midst of her half laugh, her face lit up and her eyes seemed to lighten. but the smile faded, the fever persisted, and her discomfort continues.

that's our entryway into some thoughts i've had over the last week regarding encouragement. what i want to unravel in what follows is less about specifics and more about a general concern. it seems that what the church has come to call encouragement or "building up" is far afield from how it probably should be understood.

have you ever been in worship and get the sense that your pastor is trying to get you to smile? i'm not even taking a shot at the too much mindless humor that happens on sunday mornings. have you ever been in a conversation with a friend who does the same? i'm talking about the sincere attempts, which often times are joined with catchphrase statements rooted in some hazy pop-theology, intended to make us feel better and encourage when we probably have no business feeling better.

i don't want to overdo that last point. just as the smile did for the daughter, encouragement can have the effect of creating a grace-filled space for people. that's not in debate. but the kind of encouragement which brings me concern pales in comparison and wallows in the false sense of easy comfort. often, i wonder if we're not more interested in making people feel better about themselves than doing the gritty work of actually building up the body of Christ. i want to encourage others (i want others to encourage me) toward being better.

i shouldn't have done it, but the week before lent began i started reading ezekiel. i've had a recurring thought as i've continued to read. everybody wants a prophetic voice around until someone shows up and starts calling everybody in the church a bunch of whores. there's no tact in it. there's no reserve in it. it's just you and the community of God in the cross hairs. today, most of us in the church would more quickly label it "immature rhetoric" and disregard its lack of civility than consider the realities underlying the message. we have no palate for such confrontation - personally or communally - and so we either try to hide behind Jesus' compassion as though God's compassion towards people has changed over time, or we dodge the harshness in tone by developing our own perception of what prophetic edification should look like this side of the old testament (1 corinthians 14:4). but in the end, i'm not so sure Ezekiel wasn't in the business of and wasn't indeed building up - even if sometimes that means some things need to come down.  

i'm a pretty honest guy. with others. and more ruggedly, with myself. it's kind of the way i'm wired. it can be super irritating for everyone involved (don't ask the bride). in those times when pastors or friends are trying to bring me a kind of false sense of comfort, regardless of how sincere they are in their efforts, it tends to backfire and tends to leave a measure of unease in its wake. i don't know if you've ever had that kind of experience, but i'll come back to this later. 

i think that's what i like about lent. we encourage people to reflect on things in their own lives which under any other circumstances would only produce discouragement. it is a strategic time in the church year that allows us to move beyond the facades of the pseudo-encouraging and say, with heads bowed in humble sincerity, "we are busted." and no empty encouragement will mend what's gone wrong.

there are many things i'm wrestling through this lenten season. things i'm in the process of bringing down. many things i'm fighting against. in the last two weeks, there have been times of both encouragement and discouragement. to put it positively, i grow more and more thankful for good friends and accountability partners who don't act like there's not a difference between the two. as a whole, this lent has been good. whatever has come or whatever may come, i'm simply trying to face it with a renewed and steadfast awareness of Christ's cross and resurrection.

it should not have surprised me but it did. one week after turning my attention to this season, deep encouragement came. i don't recall the exact words, but in a class i'm TAing, the professor, dr. Lawson Stone, opened the class with a prayer. he basically asked the Lord to remind us that as we move forward in the lenten season, it is not only a time to reflect on our sin but it is also a time to realize how far Christ had brought us on our respective journeys. you know, there was a time in the not too distant past that such statements might have been classified under my "empty encouragement" category. when i was asked to consider the ambiguous "look how far," i would recoil or thoughtlessly nod. i would balk because somewhere in the depths of my own casualness about Jesus and His particular call on my life, something was amiss. i was tired. disengaged. busted. or maybe it was the fear that i knew i wasn't going forward and, at best, only standing still. so, such "encouragements" tended to make me more nervous than anything. it would backfire. yet, over the last fifteen months or so, things have gradually been changing. so now, after focusing on my inadequacies and the cross for just one week, it seemed my heart was prepared. fallow ground had been made ready so that i could move beyond the emptiness of my apathy and recognize with a renewed freshness the power of the cross and how far Christ has led.

have you recalled the cross more fully this week? has the pervasiveness of your sin startled you? humble introspection. humble confession. humble awareness of our frailty. coming to grips with our ashes, with our penchant for sin. these things pave the way for deep encouragement. while our heads are bowed in humility, let us not forget the other side of this ironic season - as we consider our sin and death, Christ is building you up. note how far you've come... 

but if, like it was for me not too far back, you currently recoil at such a suggestion...if that's not an encouraging word to you...if you're not there, then my encouragement to you is this: endure lent. let Ezekiel in and endure, not only his rhetoric, but his charges against you. endure the introspection. endure those sometimes unpleasant moments of considering what might need to be purged from your life. endure this moment of realizing the vastness of your sin. if we do these things, Christ will meet us in our time of darkness with compassion and forgiveness, which ultimately will also lead to a path of deep encouragement rooted in the hope of His resurrection.

endure the season,
-scott|e.

marked by the faded cries of our hosannas.

for just a moment, i want to return to my thoughts from the other day. to be clear, for me it is not an either-or situation - farsighted or nearsighted. true lenten observance necessitates both. as both services last wednesday declared "remember that thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return," it served as a contrast to what we would declare with the imposition of ashes in jersey - "consider yourself dead to sin and alive to Christ." it's a both-and in my mind. but no need to rewrite that blog. my comments were not a critique - but a reminder not to forsake the beauty that can and even is emerging before the grave because of what Christ has done both for and in us.

shifting gears, but down that same road. has the impact of your ash wednesday already begun to diminish? forgotten so soon that we were marked with death only days ago?

are you aware that traditionally the ashes used for an ash wednesday service are the burned remains of palm branches from the previous palm sunday? one might say we are marked with the faded cries of our hosannas.

this is a strange tragedy to me and yet so common. so many rushing and gathering around Jesus on his journey into jerusalem, toward His death. in that moment so many cried "save me." not much has changed. this is still our cry in a moment of crisis. in a moment of fear. in a moment of guilt. or is it a moment of sin that prompts such a declaration? or maybe a moment of realization that Christ may actually be the fulfillment of bygone prophets? to be sure, these are honest moments. but they're also moments in which we too often fail to realize even our most sincere proclamations, if not infused with an understanding of who Christ is and a willingness to embrace the breadth that is possible in the grace that He offers, are but dirty rags.

i wonder if this isn't part of our problem with the dangerous and numbing cycle of sin-confession-sin-hosanna-sin-confession-sin...

we know the story of palm sunday all too well - we know how it went and how it quickly goes. the heart's cries that were so passionate one week easily fade into empty betrayals. betrayals of forgetfulness. betrayals of fear. betrayals of sin. betrayals of "i'll do better the next time." betrayals by friends. betrayals by disciples. the once resounding cries become an empty echoing of our renewed but all too often shallow promises to be faithful to God.

in this lenten season, don't fight it. we're marked by such empty cries. embrace it or we will never embrace the reality that it is only the grace of the resurrection that offers something in exchange.

yesterday, our pastor finished up a series entitled, "letting go." he ended it by talking about letting go of our failures. something he said struck me. condemnation and guilt indicate something is wrong, but only offers paralysis. conviction, on the other hand, begins much the same - it shows something is wrong. but this is where comparisons with condemnation or guilt cease. true conviction breeds transformation. sometimes i wonder if we get too caught up in the above-mentioned cycle and lose our sense of conviction.

as i said the other day, my thoughts are gathering around Romans 8. although he wasn't preaching from that passage, Romans 8:1 was interweaving itself into my worship yesterday - no condemnation for those who are in Christ. and yet, while this is surely Christ's proclamation over us, we deflect His demands for our mortal bodies and stand virtually motionless and spiritually paralyzed. if, as disciples of Christ, we are going to live in the realities of Romans 8 and put to death the deeds of the body, then we must face our fading cries of hosanna with the conviction that it has become our betrayal.

keep asking for a proper sense of conviction. the resurrection will have its full force in our lives again only when we allow the Spirit's discomforting free reign and access in our lives. this convicting discomfort is the avenue of lent.

may our cries be sharpened for His mercy.
-scott|e.

a nearsighted ash wednesday & lent

i like lent. for a variety of reasons. i like contemplating death so much that i attended two services yesterday. one in the early morning hours and the other in the evening. double ashed.

truth be told, the first service was in louisville where i was accessing some free babysitting from mormor (i.e. grandma). the other was to observe the season with Hannah after i got back to wilmore. so there was a very rational reason for the two services. but, even if for the briefest of moments, i wanted you all to think i had a morbid streak.

...but you know what's funny. us evangelicals are rather weak on these issues. we hide behind our unawareness of the larger church and its history or accuse it (sometimes rightly, sometimes not so), but regardless of our accusatory accuracy, we toss the ecclesiological baby out with the bathwater. or we hide behind catch phrase readings of scriptural pieces that miss the point. and in the process we miss something else that's valuable. many traditions invest far more than two services as they move into this season. why? are they overly morbid? probably not as much as you think.

so i thought i'd lay out some questions that may be beneficial as we move through the next forty or so days.

in both services i attended yesterday - one in a reformed context, the other in a wesleyan/holiness context - the focus was on our awareness of death somewhere out there...in the future. at some level, in both services, repentance seemed to be encapsulated into the idea of acknowledging our future death as a result of sin. the majority focus of both services was what i might call a farsighted mortality. to dust we will return.

in both services the passing from life to death took center stage. and my issue is not whether this fact should be on the stage. our preparation toward the cross must focus on our looming death [a friend wrote an insightful piece on this subject which i think is worth your time]. but i'm thinking more along the lines of how much this should be the focus on the forty day stage? the whole? a part? the majority? i don't care how much. but the thought occurred to me - what death? the one that will come at some point in the unknown or the ones we potentially participate in each day?

as i've been preparing my own heart for lent, the verse that has lodged itself into my thoughts is Romans 8:11 - "and if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you." when i worship with the church on easter sunday, i want that truth to be exploding in my life. and honestly, at this point, i'm not sure i ponder the significance of this verse and those around it with enough depth. so with that in mind, i wanted to offer some nearsighted questions that i'm asking myself for lent and wrestling through:

1. do we live out the reality of the resurrection in our mortal bodies?  
2. what part of Christ's life, death, and resurrection is not sovereign over our sin? over our depravity? or, put another way, what sin in our lives is more powerful than God's grace in Christ's victory and, as a result, is causing places of unneeded death in our lives now...in spite of the cross that enables life?
3. what is this new creation that Christ ushers into our lives? what has passed away? how much has passed away? how much can we expect to pass away? what is this new heart?
4. where might beauty emerge from ashes we have caused or are in the process of causing?

if we take Genesis 3 seriously and that the whole tenor of scripture post-Genesis 3 is God's attempt to respond to that radical deformation of humanity, and the fact that this divine work culminates in Christ's victorious resurrection, then we should be able to celebrate easter sunday - after deep pondering, introspection, and repentance - in a way that reflects Romans 8 in our lives. the deaths sin has produced in us - the one that leads us to a grave and the one that sucks life from us today - have lost their sway in Christ's glorious resurrection and the continuing work of the Holy Spirit.

may we ponder our looming death in this lenten season, but may we not be too farsighted in our observance and thereby overlook the glory of what Christ desires to do in our mortal bodies.

ashes to ashes...and to the newness of Christ's beauty in us. now.
-scott|e.

"a softer way" to say things

so a few weeks ago i was sick and down for the count one saturday. that's when i happended upon the first season of 'gold rush' on netflix, a discovery channel series about a bunch of men/families who sold pretty much all they had to strike it rich mining for gold in alaska. i've only seen the first season, but the one thing they don't advertise (and should) is that these men are(/were?) fundamentally incompetent in all things mining. the dad had mined at some point in his past, but it's a disaster all the way through. it's really funny.

 ("the softer way" boss)

apparently i have a penchant for incompetence on tv shows. on the opposite side of the political/cultural spectrum of those making tv shows about things they know very little about is 'whale wars.' i watched this show on a similar study hiatus when i was not feeling well a couple years back. in that show, rather than a bunch of men wanting to strike it rich for themselves, these whale warriors (funded by bob barker) were desirous to save the whales. both groups utterly incompetent. 

i say the networks should advertise these things because it's really what makes the shows. there's nothing better than families selling all they have in a down time because they have visions of grandeur that there's much money in gold...in the ground...way below the top layer of soil. or on the other side of the globe, in the water there's nothing funnier than a bunch of granola kids setting off on a high seas adventure with a washed-out widely unknowledgeable green (err, grayish/blueish...for the whales) guru.

while the the 'boss' of the gold mining group (shown above) admits time and again that he has no clue what he's doing in the mining business, he does however possess a wide array of humorous phraseology. my favorite. he says "frick." a lot. it's funny because it's just so absolutely random and uncommon to hear this variation. ...well unless your around seminaries and bible colleges and such. it's just not amongst the common parlance of the day, if you know what i'm saying.

recently he was asked about his verbal oddities. below i offer his what-should-not-have-been-surprising reply:

"I've always said 'frick'. My roommate and I started saying it while we were at bible college,...We obviously couldn't swear there. It's just a softer way of saying the 'F' word."

downton abbey who?!
-scott|e.

white out on black out day.

as we've been telling Ella, abc's are important.

i need to explain something before i post what i'm about to post. i don't watch bill o'reilly. as i have lamented in the past, we don't have cable so i don't watch much of anything beyond the standards...and a little KET here and there.

having said that, i would like to say on this blackout day that my previous lack of sports has been nicely remedied thanks to the internet. the fact that espn would air a national title game on its cable station instead of its abc counterpart is not my fault. contact your local representatives.

back to foxnews. i have no idea who bernie goldberg is, but this clip had me laughing. here's bill o'reilly educating goldberg on his whiteness and on ice cube.



the best part is that i'm pretty sure bernie, after being corrected, kept calling ice cube "ice q" as though he realized his mistake.

i conclude with the only other thought i had while watching this video. from cube's perspective, the only positive that one can take from this is that goldberg didn't say "one of the iconic figures in african-american culture and music." in the recess of my mind, one of ice cube's lyrics has been lodged for perpetuity... i can only assume his immediate response would have been: "calling me an afircan-american, like everything is fair again. bleeeeeeeep"?

if you want the full context of the clip, here's a link. but the shorter version is more humorous to me.
-scott|e.

advent >> hope and chocolate

here's a little advent window into Ella's and my world for the last 23 days. enjoy. happy Christmas.

by the way, i also think we have uncovered the origin of Ella's growling...note the 45 second mark.
-scott|e.

advent >> the infancy we adore.

i promise i'm not an angry little elf. but for this advent installment i do want to speak with a level of soberness that may be better reserved for a lenten season, but forward i go nonetheless.

one of my more quasi-embarrassing moments in israel this past summer came as i was standing under the shadow of the southwestern point of the temple mount. there we were walking through some classic archaeological sites when i blurted out, "i can't believe we're walking where benjamin mazar did his work" (google him if necessary). coincidentally, it is also the area where Jesus walked and did His work, but my thoughts were apparently somewhere else. the israel trip was a three-week intensive course that was not intended to leverage our emotions; thus, i think my mazar statement made my prof. proud, but it left me realizing two things: 1) apparently i really have ascended into the realm of being a real life ph.d. student and 2) at some point during the trip, i needed to shift my thoughts in other directions, at least once.

on another day, we were standing on the mount of olives (i took the pic above). Carl Rasmussen, our teacher, had just painted a brief but heavy picture of God's saving work throughout the history of His people. they were words that i had heard before...they were words that i had uttered before. but that morning, as we stood looking over the city, his words - their truth - were loaded with all the spiritual freight in the world for me. it wasn't emotional, i was just locked in and getting it.

after he shared, we scattered. we took our pictures. because it was still early in our three weeks, we marveled. there's much to process standing in these places. a few of us talked. i don't remember how we got to the particular place in the conversation, but the phrase from Hebrews 9:14 - how much more... - just kept rattling around in my mind as i looked over the city.

as we looked over the valley, the temple that had served as the place of God's presence among His people was gone, but ironically the story was coming alive. this was the place where God's people came to sacrifice, to worship, and to receive forgiveness.

i should add here because it will be important throughout, when we talk of salvation/forgiveness/etc. in the old testament we are not talking about some sort of defunct form of divine salvation/forgiveness/etc. it almost sounds stupid to say, but God's forgiveness in the old testament was forgiveness. and, without denying that people from time to time skewed the graciousness of divine action, when people came seeking forgiveness and salvation in the ways that God had established for them to do so i think they received it.

now, before we get too far down the road, i want to affirm what the book of Hebrews has to say about Christ's coming as it relates to all that i just said above. the significance of Christ's coming and His ministry mean that for the people of God something much more is now available in Christ that was not previously so before His advent. 

but what is this "much more" of which we speak? what does it look like in the life of a believer? and if you feel that i have created some sort of a "much more" abstraction that is too broad or broader that the passage is really getting at, fine. but what then is the "much more" that provides a clean conscience through the blood of Christ, by the work of the Holy Spirit? whatever it is it's not just some kind of mental thing. read hebrews 10. then ask yourself why is it that this cleansing is also inherently linked to service? and one more - why is it that when you delve ever so slightly into the original, you find an implied ability to distinguish right and wrong in this term? is this "how much more" simply the a clean conscience and the mental capacity to tell (others!) right from wrong?

honestly, i have an agenda in this post. i don't know if i will be able to put my finger on it clearly enough, but my basic concern is a church (Christ's church, the church with which i am honored to be part) that is missing the "more" and thereby excusing or even inviting "less"...maybe even less than was available through the grace of God in the old testament. maybe the last question above encapsulates my fears best - Christ's church seems plagued with the desire to have clean consciences, but wants little, if anything, to do with categories that imagine anything beyond. 

i think some of my issue goes back to what i started discussing above: a misconception of grace, faith, and forgiveness before Christ's coming. i fully understand what is meant when we hear the following: "everything in the Old Testament points to Christ." but i wonder if, in our constant regurgitation of such theological and easy axioms, we miss the reality behind statements like those found in john 1 or colossians 1:15-17. if Christ truly was already at work and/or participating in creation and redemption prior to bethlehem, i guess i want to decipher what people mean when they say "everything points to Christ." because i agree with the general statement...but these words were to Him as the fulfillment, not merely as substitute.

was God's work before Christ's birth somehow deficient? again, certainly not as full as when the fullness of time emerges. what is often implied (both intentionally and accidentally) is that before Christ, God's grace was somehow substandard. but think on that a bit: what exactly does the substandard grace of God look like? partial forgiveness? partial grace? again, we can say it certainly wasn't as clear prior to Christ's arrival...but let's not say it is anything less than what it actually was for the people.  was God's forgiveness, which was so richly dispersed throughout the pages of the old testament, only a 49.49% kind of divine forgiveness?

are you tracking with me? let's use a specific. what was it that David was pleading for in psalm 51? were his prayers for forgiveness answered? certainly David's prayer serves as a kind of model for us now...everybody gets that. but did he or did he not receive forgiveness from God? and, if his prayers were answered (which the Bible seems to suggest they were), would we really want to say it was only some marginal form of God's grace and forgiveness at work?

at this point, some of you may be wondering why this is important. can't the old testament guy stop belaboring the point. i'm belaboring simply because i believe that if we miss the reality of God's saving work in the old testament - which included His forgiveness, His presence, His protection, His righteousness, and His holiness - we'll have no way of celebrating the full ramifications of Christ's coming and the "how much more" embedded in His life and ministry.

i think this is observed in the fact that the same people who prone to argue that everything in the old testament points to Christ with relentless rigidity (i.e. having no biblical insight that God's work among His people might have been effective before that holy night), are the same ones who are going to reduce Christ's life, death, and resurrection to a second act of hope deferred. why is it that the same folks who assert that everything in the old testament pointed to Christ are also the ones that have a penchant to defer the possibility of radical obedience to Christ's radical call on us to His second coming or our death? something just doesn't make sense. the long awaited Messiah, who the Scriptures pointed to, who the people longed for, arrives...but...but...for real victory, those who become His disciples must now await His second coming or, even more oddly, death, our final enemy? this is the victory of Christ's coming? His life, His cross, and His resurrection...boils down to hope deferred, again? surely not. and yes, there is a hope deferred in the not yet of His return, but if you're focusing on that and missing my point thus far, stop reading because it's only going to get worse.

here's a recent advent link as an example of what i'm talking about. particularly take notice of the part dealing with the lyrics of 'joy to the world.' first, i in no way want to minimize the reality and depth of the pain that this lady is speaking to. but i couldn't disagree more with where she goes with it.

of course the "effects of sin have infiltrated every part of creation." of course "when Jesus came the first time, earth did not receive her king but instead hung him on a cross." and yes, "even after his death and resurrection, sin and sorrow still grow, and the thorny effects of the curse remain." but what about those in whom Christ has wrought His new creation? what about me? what about you? what exactly is this "new" faux-creation? merely forgiveness? yea...definitely that. but it seems David (and many others in the Old Testament) got that too.

then, take note of how the article wiggles psalm 98 free from reality. can it be used to talk about Christ's first coming? definitely. mr. watts has done a rather nice job with this one. can it be used to speak of His second coming? i would say so. but do not miss that this was an expression of faith for those living centuries before Christ about who this God was and would be for them in their historical circumstances. they knew their God to be faithful...who would judge the world with righteousness (and had in fact brought about this judgment on their behalf on various occasions). what i am simply trying to say is that the israelites experienced God's faithfulness, righteousness, and salvation - they declared it over and over again. did they know it as deeply as what is now available through the life and work of Christ? as a Christian and as one who believes the paramount significance in the coming of the Messiah, i would say, no...but that doesn't make their awareness insignificant. in fact, it makes their confessional posture all the more demanding on those who place their hope in Christ. are we experiencing the "how much more"?


this is my point.

make no mistake in what i am saying. as Christians, there are places of weakness, infirmities, and idiosyncrasies which we may never get over; areas where the weight of depravity cannot be altered in the world that surrounds us; "genetic codes" that will remain out of order and unchanged; the possibility for environmental disaster; among other manifold places where we have little control over others. but the moment these true statements alleviate us from thinking the grander thoughts, namely, that when Christ showed up on the scene He offered so much more than what the world formerly knew as it pertained to the love of God, the grace of God, the faithfulness of God, and the righteousness of God (and on we could go), we have done a disservice to the work of God in this world and to Christ's message of salvation fulfilled.

it seems a majority of Christians have determined - without Scriptural warrant - that the fundamental and primary work of Christ's redemption is forgiveness. but, as i've been trying to get at above, beyond being free from the rigmarole and the perceived weight of God's law, i just can't see how the "how much more" in Christ is all that much more when this is the case. sure, as Hebrews says, He was the perfect sacrifice and no more will the sacrificial system of the old testament be necessary - he was offered once for all. and while we enjoy imagining our lives are fully influenced by the glory of Christ, in reality, i'm afraid, we've exchanged His glorious work of full redemption for our lack of obedience in word, thought, and deed on a daily basis.

the sick thing in all of this is that we've come to a place where i'll be the one accused of harming the faith because i am unwilling to allow that forgiveness is the only thing that springs from the work of God in and through Christ. or i'll be accused of somehow undercutting the new testament because i've affirmed the actuality that God's forgiveness and saving work in the old testament is necessary to understand if we are to understand Christ's ministry and His invitation into the "how much more."

forgiveness is initial and, undeniably, a constant in the Christian life. but is there nothing more? i guess something that i've been taking for granted here is that God's work in the old testament offered so much more than what most of us realize. the whole problem with the golden calf in exodus 32 was that it thwarted and/or jeopardized the possibility of God's abiding presence that would become clear in exodus 40. the whole sacrificial system was God's way (His established means of grace...again actual grace) of offering His people the possibility for fellowship. that's significant.

but when our only, or even riskier, our primary focus of Jesus' coming and work is forgiveness, then we Christians have neglected a vital component of the "how much more." 

as i stood there on the mount of olives, overlooking that sacred place where so many had found God faithful in the past - prior to Christ's coming - i was reminded again just how deep His love delved and was clarified in advent. yet far too often we act like the only benefit is that we don't have to hassle with the burdens of the old testament. but then we bump into the burdens of faithfulness as described in the new testament and push off the full ramifications of Christ's work until His second coming or heaven because it's just easier that way.

if that's where we are overtly (as a theological rubric) or subtlety (just because it's the path of least spiritual resistance), i don't think it's a stretch to claim with the writer of Hebrews that the only infancy we are adoring this advent would be our own.

be not a baby in a spiritual manger. but grow up in Christ and seek the full measure of grace available. i think we will discover that it certainly "flows as far as the curse is found." undoubtedly, we will bump up against those places where sin and depravity seem unmovable, but even at these places, cultivate the ground for God's grace and we may be as surprised as they were on that first night of the Messiah's arrival.
-scott|e.

advent >> the resiliency of getting from here to there

in all my years of graduate school...in all the many fall semesters, i am sad to declare that i've never really been able to master the advent season.

now, please do not mistake what i have just said for anything less than what it actually is. every year, without fail, i do what i have done since i was first exposed to athanasuis' on the incarnation during my first year of seminary - i start reading through his work. "start" is the operative word, of course...in fact, i've probably only completed it a few times during this season, but it has its standard place in my advent repertoire and even if it is merely a paragraph, that has been a kind and orienting presence. beyond that, even if only in abbreviated forms, i/we - on my own before Hannah's advent into my life, and then as a couple, or now as a family - have always done some advent celebration in the weeks leading up to Christmas. advent beckons us. but, while these things are true, my initial declaration is truer. advent for the last many years has always felt condensed. or hijacked. or not nearly as important as it should be.

but honestly, i doubt i'm much alone in this feeling.

since this is my last semester (read: my last attempt to achieve an adequate advent in my seminary days), i've decided to write one reflective blog each week (my times is running out!). these won't necessarily intersect with the traditional themes of advent, but they are those things which have come (or are coming) to the fore of my advent experience and hope.

so, here goes. number one.

this past weekend, we were home for thanksgiving and attended church with my mom. honestly, it had not dawned on me that since Christmas is on a sunday this year advent was set to start so "early." needless to say, this was not a good start toward the adequate. i was on my way to drop the daughter off at the nursery when i heard the choir practicing some Christmas songs. advent had sprung on me.

a few days ago, i wrote a tweet about Christ. 

[my first aside: i have no idea why such a statement (i.e. "i wrote a tweet about Christ"...about the messiah of the world) makes me chuckle. but it does.]

my onehundredandfortycharacters: "can we ever 'jump the gun' on the celebration of the advent? doesn't that kinda reverse the reality of what has actually occurred in Christ"

i wrote that pondering how the bride's sinister influence had taken it's toll on me this year. for whatever the reason, she has been relentless, incessant, and persistent with her desire to start decorating for and listening to the songs of Christmas far earlier than any reasonable person should. i'm sure it has nothing to do with having an aware two-year-old running around. so there i was, listening to Christmas music a week and a half before THANKSGIVING. sinister, i say.

but back to this idea of an "early" advent. from that first night, Christ's coming has a penchant to spring up on us. for Mary - although prepared - it comes out of nowhere. then this unexpected One seems to capture or plead for (or demand) our attention.

again, i think that's the way it was with Mary that first noel. surprise.

you know the story in luke 1:26-38. the angel shows up and declares to this young girl, "you're favored and God is with you." this is good news...but. on the surface, this is the news i'd imagine any number of us would love to hear. but if scriptures taught God's s people anything, it's that this surface level is rarely a rest stop when God shows up. so rather than rejoicing or taking some other course of action, Mary is greatly troubled. perplexed. confused.

the divine messenger tries to console her be reaffirming her favored status...and, "oh yea, by the way your virginity is but a technicality and you're going to have a son who is going to sit on a throne and fulfill what you think has been a covenant promise in hibernation." consolation? her initial intuition is validated. i'd be troubled too. not to mention confused and a bit perplexed. so she asks for some clarification on the virginity technicality...but Gabe's response doesn't make things any simpler. the only tangible thing she is given to hold on to is a pregnant Elizabeth. but pregnant by a man. and although she's old and has been barren, this miracle just doesn't have the same feel as the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit.

and yet, Mary asserts (confesses?) i'm the Lord's servant - let it be so.

so, the overarching question that emerges in my mind as i read this passage is this: what accounts for the space between "greatly troubled" and "let it be according to your word"? what is it that moves a person from the uneasy intrusion of the divine word spoken to the quintessential portrait of obedience?

first, what it isn't. based on this passage (and so many others) God does not always bring the level of clarity humanity so often requires...or, to put a more pleasant face on it, requests. God is under no obligation to make things make more sense. he's not required to make our obedience easier. of course He does at times, but these moments should only make us thankful rather than entitled. 


so why does Mary respond as she does? what allows a person to move from being greatly troubled to rugged faithfulness? i wish i had an easy and tangible answer. something that we could hold onto through the advent season to enable us and/or help us make this move.

but the reality is, it's not easy. but there are two areas where i think this connects and both zero in on the necessity for God's people to possess and pray for a resilient faith:

1) her faithfulness to God - to conceive a child in her womb by the Holy Spirit's overshadowing - most certainly would have been confronted by accusations of unfaithfulness from an otherwise believing community but who were unaware of the angel's visit. maybe even disgust and derision came Mary's way. a few months ago i had a guy tell me that God never asks us to do irrational things. i got his point and still get it. but try telling that to an engaged Mary? or trying to convince a good deal of the prophets that God never asks for that which is unreasonable.

so, the move through the space between is not easy. but that doesn't get us much of anywhere past the space between either. over the years one of the things that continues to mark me is the resiliency that faith requires. how many times has God asked the impossible of me? how many times has He asked me to insert myself into a hopeless situation where i know that in the midst of the messiness of humanity and interpersonal relationships things are going to be misinterpreted? neglected? or made worse simply because i'm trying to be faithful?

imagine Mary trying to convince her community that what was growing in her belly was the result of the Spirit. sure. sometimes people don't always get faithfulness. if we're going to get to the point of "let it be so," resiliency is required nonetheless.

2) the second area that requires a persistently rebounding faith may be more implicit rather than explicit from this passage. it's the resiliency of facing God's intrusion at every level of our lives, not just the Mary-esque miraculous. such faith is not only needed in trying to comprehend that an angel has just told you: "You will conceive and give birth to a son...He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High." it's also required in the everyday call - the sometimes difficult call - to obedience, which requires that we come to grip with ourselves. coming to grip with one's self requires resiliency.

recently, i was talking with a close friend about the struggles of living within God's radical call on our lives in very practical ways. what do we do as Christians when we realize places that are unlike Christ in our lives? in our relationships? in our attitudes?

how many times has the Spirit intruded on my life with troubling clarity about a specific issue, an attitude, or an anything. these can be harsh realities for some of us to encounter. why is it that all too often our first instinct is to recoil or try to soften that piercing word? why must we try every angle of interpretive genius in order to ease the otherwise unbending instructions in Scripture? why must we incessantly attempt to make ourselves somehow less offensive in God's eyes? in all our endeavors, somewhere deep within the recesses i/we know.

so, we either run away or toward. if we're ever going to move from here to there in the sense that we've been talking about, it must be toward...with all of it's accompanying unease.

i guess what i'm trying to say is this: what it comes down to - and what is crucial - is how we receive God's word. Christ's intrusion. it will take a good measure of faithful resiliency to traverse the space between. two intermingling realities are necessary: first, even though His words can be troubling, we must affirm (confess) that in the coming of Christ there is the capacity to move us forward - be that healing, a remedy for our brokenness, or something else; and second, we must be done with acting like God's call on our lives is somehow untroubling and decide if we're willing for our lives to be inconvenienced.

happy advent. be resilient in your faith.
-scott|e.

liturgy gets a bad rap.

no political commentary here, which can't always be promised.

...on the other hand, i'll let you decide if i retrieved the video below from a favored political site (i.e. amusingly wondering about the overall sense of the chant) or, if i am now frequenting occupy wall street sites looking for inspiration. but again, no political commentary on this one. so let your minds run free wondering which of the above is true.

first, watch the video (listening not required).




a simple thought struck me after watching this video. no, not the incoherency of the chant. but that liturgy gets a bad rap. the whole outdated "let's join our heart and minds in unison" deal has fallen on hard times. but people seem to have something inherent in them that, at the very least, has a propensity toward such things. they even clap for it. even when it's incoherent. even when the one shepherding them has come unprepared and has to repeat a line multiple times to come up with the next anticlimactic and incoherent phrase.

now, i am, of course, not suggesting bad liturgy - i.e. that which is unprepared and/or incoherent - is a good in and of itself. people who get caught up in their propensities for a moment, will eventually come to discover emptiness. but liturgy doesn't have to be empty.

anyway.
-scott|e.

quite sad, you see.

i'm currently in the process of writing an article for a forthcoming bible dictionary.

yes, my mom is super proud. i'm sure in the deep unspoken recesses of her heart this is but the launching pad to becoming the next lucado (and if you didn't laugh about that....you have missed my humor). for others, the thought that i will soon be published is...well, a conundrum.

but i've got no other way to describe the process than...sad. i was asked to write this article, in an area and on a topic not my own, with a very quick turn around time. i, of course, said yes (just because i wanted my mother to fawn and to be impressive). anyway, it was supposed to be submitted today...but i'm still writing tonight.

 
it's unfortunate that i'm not yet finished....sad really.

my topic - the sadducees.
i'm a witty little fella.
-scott|e.

spiriutal pieces: goodbyes and another advent of something new.

goodbyes are always something. sometimes good. sometimes not so...but regardless they are something. some goodbyes feel significant and yet they're not really goodbyes.

a number of years ago, in this space, i was lamenting what 30 would mean. it came and went. but one of the areas of loss i was dealing with at that time, perhaps for the first time, was the end of delirious?, a band that had been rather significant for me post-1997. with delirious? it was sort of an odd couple. give or take, i'm probably into 73% of their songography. now, that impact of that 73% cannot be overestimated. the lyrics, the music...the whole package still captures me.

but the other 27% was more of an unfortunate personal preference (unfortunate on my part, i'm sure), with roughly 2% of it going into the category of just not getting it. as for the personal preference, there are times i really enjoy the whole notion of some kind of blended pop-ish rocking out. but give me the mello, the emotional, the arising, the acoustic, the stripped down and i'll be fully satisfied. with delirious? i could overlook the pop and the harder stuff because i had been led by them over and over and, for that reason, "i knew" them...and trusted them. so, if they wanted to discuss "heads spinning" and "the world spinning around," i wasn't necessarily into it, but i just figured they were delivering a message to some other set of personal preferences. it's the same with the stuff i didn't get. i mean, if they wanted to talk about being an "eagle rider," splendid...i wasn't interested, but i was more than willing to listen to the first five seconds of such songs, or however long it took me to press the "back" button to repeat "love will find a way" one more time. 

late last night i was reminded via twitter that the Dave Crowder Band...wait, i mean the Dave Crowder*Band...had released a Christmas album - their second to last project. (the via twitter bit is just a funny to say. yes, while i was away i started a twitter account. it's much like my blogging, i.e. nobody reads it. but it doesn't require as much thought or time and i get instant updates of daily book deals)

now, admittedly, i haven't been listening to crowder all that much the past couple of years. living in wilmore with no commute and a two year old who requires 'praise baby' puts a damper on lengthy listening to anything. but they remain close to who i am, in some sense who i have become, and what i enjoy about Christian music...thoughtful, creative and worship-oriented. crowder would probably be around 94-96%. though i haven't been enthralled in their albums of late, the news of their imminent end was saddening and feels like another change.

here's why:

it was may 20, 2000. this little known thing called oneday happened at the shelby farm in memphis, tennessee. i don't remember all the details of how i got there, but i still remember it all being last minute. a group of friends from another college were going and i joined. when i attended that...event?! (which it was) my heart was still radically captivated by Christ's love and by His still recent work in my heart. although it didn't come as a surprise, i was all but unaware of the wounds that would be inflicted on that heart through death and all sorts of loss just two weeks later on june 4, 2000.

not two minutes ago i hung up the phone with my mom to make sure i wasn't losing it and misremembering the date my dad's death. much of the ensuing days and weeks after june 4 remain a fog. i knew oneday happened in the same chronological vicinity, and, for that reason, have always said how crucial and stabilizing that experience was. but i seriously had no recollection of it happening just two weeks before my dad's passing. kind of makes me laugh about the "how" and "last minute" part.

but that's where i was introduced to the dave crowder band (pre-* and even found they had gone by another name previously, the ubc band). because of dr. Mac's influence on me i had a growing penchant for hymns, but it was Crowder who sealed it - come thou fount...more particularly, , the hidden track on the 'all i can say' album, #34...which doesn't begin until 3:40. i still remember that dude walking around the oneday masses with his guitar as his backpack.

after the summer of hell, i got back to cincinnati disillusioned and broken. and everybody knew it...and i did too. the only other thing i knew was that there was, in the midst of everything changing from what i had known it to be in my first three years of life in Christ and the visual unease that such things brought with it, an undergirding that was taking place that i was grasping for and grappling with.

so as i grasped, i turned to crowder and this newish thing called the internet. pre-google i don't even know how i found the ubc project, but i did. and when i did, i don't even recall any fear of an turning over my credit card number to the much less safe worldwide web. i still remember getting that package in the mail. "you alone." "how long, how wide." the more original, stripped down - and better - version of "come and listen." through the music, i came, i listened. hell still raged on, but i was reminded over and over again just how long and how deep.

after that it was just a steady succession of albums that captured my attention. in no particular order: "can you hear us?" "collision." live napster downloads (....haha). "remedy." "illuminate." and "church music."

i still remember driving my prayer route in jackson sometime in the fall of 2002. yet another moment i can't believe was nine years ago...not because i'm going through a midlife crisis...but because i'm still in the blue sunfire weeping because i too needed words.

as i get ready to say goodbye, here are the words that immediately come to mind: inspiring, reminding, creative, and stabilizing.

well, anyway, after Hannah had gone to bed, i bought that album and listened. there as i sat in the quiet, reading leviticus (just because i'm like that), and listening to Christmas music at the beginning of october, i was again captivated. kind of a generic term? sure. but i was drawn into "let earth receive her king"...for the briefest of moments, crowder and crew had me again.

i'll soon miss the newness of getting one of their just released albums and wading my way through it. but this goodbye, while it surely suggests i keep getting older, the band's music will maintain the possibility to move me toward the one they have always sung of...now, during the coming advent and those that will follow.

i had forgotten how therapeutic blogging was.
-scott|e.

the subtlety of senior-itis

"i will miss the dreams in my head, more than i will miss the way it was."

one of the things about people who are engaging is that they have the capacity to remain engaging even after you've been around them for some time. just when you feel like you've heard everything they have to say...just when you feel like you've digested their content and could articulate it yourself (and even own it as your own!)...and just when you feel like you've come to expect what's next, they launch a curve ball your way.

this semester is my last semester ever of course work. now, one caveat: depending on how things go, there may be more courses ahead for various reasons - for instance, ordination stuff, but that will be different. this is it. a major hurdle will be behind us come christmas. saying that and even writing that here is something...  on top of that, because i did a course in israel over the summer, this last semester consists of only 5 hours and two classes, both with dr. John Oswalt: one hebrew grammar independent study and the other is his 'myth and history' class - the second course is his baby. even better, it's as though in this semester my graduate education comes full circle. although i am putting in tons of additional reading and focusing on a project that will hopefully set a trajectory for my dissertation, i've already taken the 'myth and history' class while i was at wbs. so, let's just say i know this stuff.

...but back to being engaged. last night in class we were talking about the biblical creation account and dr. Oswalt said something that caught my attention - "Genesis 3 does not say the serpent was the most evil creature, but the most subtle." for the purposes of this course that line possesses all sorts of connotations, but for me the surface level reality of that statement sunk in.

the most subtle indeed. in the file folder of this blog i have a half written (and poorly so) entry telling of all the great stuff God has done in our lives throughout the last nine or so months. just a lot of renewal and a lot of fun things happening in our lives and hearts. honestly, i think some of it has to do with the fact that i am finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel (i.e. did i mention it was my last semester of coursework?!). but i've been telling people for a bit now, that we've been dreaming again. dreaming about the future. what's next. how this long, meandering road is going to find its completion in God's ministry for our lives.

but at the same time that we've been experiencing the renewal and the opportunity to begin dreaming again, there's also that nagging reality of what, for lack of a better way to describe it, i might call my fifth senior-itis... while we've been able to dream, we're still stuck. we've been able to dream, but i'm still facing exams. while we see the light, there are more tunnels ahead...  lots of questions about what's ahead. these moments require a significant amount of discipline (in which i don't excel) to forge ahead while you're trying to figure out what's just past that which is ahead. what happens after finals this semester? if nothing, what happens after qualifying exams in june? it's a liminal space right on the verge...but not yet.

the past few weeks have consisted of the subtly blasé. the dreams have stopped. looking ahead has been replaced with looking down. i can't put my finger on it...and maybe that's why i'm trying here.

i wonder if one of the great subtleties of the evil one is the distraction from our God given dreams. sometimes it feels that way. it's in these moments when we've got to figure out how to dream in the midst of the blasé....to keep focus on the potential of what is ahead.

it's been too long.
-scott|e. 

check this dude out.

i really don't want to make light of the situation in libya.

but with that being said, you've got to check this dude out:

a perfect mix between someone coming straight out of the thunderdome and finding himself in the plot of 'red dawn.'

heavy.
-scott|e.

the general slide toward "then"

not a lot of time, but a lot of thoughts. been reading in 1 kings today. here's the line that struck me:

אָז֩ יִבְנֶ֨ה שְׁלֹמֹ֜ה בָּמָ֗ה לִכְמוֹשׁ֙ שִׁקֻּ֣ץ מוֹאָ֔ב
a translation: "then Solomon built a high place to chemosh, the abomination of moab."

it's always shocking to read such lines. i guess that's the problem - in some ways it is shocking but in others it's not. on one level it comes out of nowhere...but it really doesn't. the general slide toward a similar "then" is like that. shocking, but not really. out of nowhere, but been around lingering for too long.

i've got a lot of thoughts on this, but simply i just wanted to throw it out there because that's where i've been reading today and thinking over the last week or so. the starkness and yet the dullness of this "then" struck me.
-scott|e.

imagine no liberals...

i just can't seem to string much together by way of posting here. but i have some fun ideas and thoughts just waiting to be articulated in this format. ...but it's the time that's killing me.

anyway, as i'm sure most of you are aware of what's been going on in the aftermath of arizona shootings. since it is not the fault of global warming, the blame for such horrific acts must be placed upon the next based scapegoat - because it's always someone else to blame in addition to the person who is out of his mind - so let's blame the conservatives. they like guns. ...unfortunately it it not enough for most to simply say someone is out of their mind.

if you can remember the last time i posted something of a political nature here, you should know something about my beliefs since then. they haven't changed - i'm an engebretson. so in the midst of what looks to be a fairly laid back j-term class i'm home tonight browsing some political sites that i enjoy.

that's when i came across an article entitled 'sometimes a tragedy is just a tragedy' on the weekly standard. and yes, i agree with the gist of the title. the only problem: i never got past the fifth paragraph.

here's why in picture form:




notice the advertisement in the second pic. if you can't read it, the gal's t-shirt says "imagine no liberals." although i don't agree with the thoughtless attempts to score political points in the first few seconds after a tragedy, this is - if nothing else - ironic.

-scott|e.