Tech-Potatoes.

In 1999, I was an undergraduate resident assistant (RA). At my Christian college, they told us to be aware of persons who were addicted to the computer. "Watch out for them," our supervisors would tell us, "They'll withdraw from others, isolate, and we want them to be invested in others." I now work at my alma mater. And you know what? I am not told to warn anyone about being addicted to the computer. Although, sometimes I hear rumblings from students about being addicted to Facebook.

When I was in high school, I really appreciated a shirt that one of my peers had. On the front it read, "Bow to the new god." And on the back it read, "Kill you T.V." The shirt was meant to communicate that television had achieved god-like status. It could brainwash you. It formed you, without you being aware. Back then, people used to be denigrated for being couch potatoes.

Why do we not similarly discourage others from being computer potatoes? I think that not only the computer, but other technologies malform us in ways we aren't so aware of just yet. Yes, there has been alot of talk about isolation. It's not just that though. I know it's so much more but I haven't thought about it long enough. I do know some philosphers and theologians have though. I need to look into it.

And don't get me wrong. Obviously, I am using computer technology to post this. I rely on a computer for my job. I have to answer e-mails sent to me. But then, I do remember life without all this. And some people, like Wendell Berry, intentionally live a life free of all these gadgets. It gives them peace of mind and allows them to interact face to face. They aren't inundated with information. Eugene Peterson has termed much of e-mail word pollution and encourages people to write letters (hand-written).

I remember how free I felt last year during Lent when I took a sabbatical from posting on my blog and from checking Facebook (I wouldn't say I'm addicted, but I check FB once a day or less). I felt like I had so much time!

And while I so enjoy posting and am nourished by thinking through what I write, it is good to fast and use that time to be nourished by the Lord in different ways. Not posting is a discipline of abstinence.

I don't think I am a techno-phobe. No. But, I do wonder at the ill-effects technology has on us. Technology has implications for our spiritual formation in Christ. We should talk about this in our churches. And of course we shouldn't be tech-potatoes.

God Always Reveals Himself.

2nd Sunday after Epiphany 2011

From Lectionary Readings:                       
Isaiah 49:1-7
Psalm 40:1-12
I Corithians 1:1-9
John 1:29-42

You have to wonder why initially, John the Baptist didn’t know who Jesus was. After all, John was Jesus’ cousin. And while he may have lived too far away from Jesus to interact with him from day to day, don’t you think, even from possibly limited interactions, that Jesus would’ve struck him as extraordinary while they were growing up? Extraordinary in wisdom and holiness, even though Jesus was the so-called son of his uncle Joseph, a carpenter, and aunt Mary? Really godly people to be sure, but ordinary people John was familiar with?

But surely stories of Jesus’ antics at the temple got around the family circles. Remember the time after the Passover when Jesus was 12, how he stayed behind in the temple talking theology and life with the Teachers of the Law while his family headed home? His parents didn’t even know he was gone. It’s only when the caravan stopped after traveling for a day that they realized he wasn’t there; they couldn’t find him among relatives and friends. They worried. Then it took them three days to find him in Jerusalem. When they got there, they discovered that everyone was amazed at him—at the answers he gave and at how he conducted himself. God in Christ was revealing himself to the most important religious people of his day. 12 year old God, the second person of the Trinity, Jesus—standing there talking to them. They were face to face with God, who was revealing himself. And neither the religious leaders (hear that, leaders) nor his parents knew God when they saw him. And neither did John the Baptist. That is until John witnessed the Spirit descending on Jesus in the form of a dove after John baptized him. God revealed himself to John. And to think that John held 30 year old God, the God-man, Jesus his cousin, in his arms and baptized him.

God is always, always, always revealing himself to us. However, often, he comes in unexpected ways. Take this little example. Suppose you saw a crowd of Mid-towners out refurbishing a house down one of these streets. Suppose a crowd gathered to watch and someone asked: “Where’s the preacher?” And then another answers, “Right there, there’s one of the preachers, they have a couple of them.” And the one asking continues, “Where, I don’t see anyone that looks like a preacher.” The other says, “Right there, that short lady with the dark hair, that little spit fire over there, she’s a resident director at that school down there on 72. She’s one of the preachers.” Now what on earth? Do I look like a preacher, even a sometimes one? I’d venture to guess that I don’t. But God does reveal himself in mysterious ways and mysteriously scatters his gifts abroad to ordinary people just like you and me. God is always, always, always, revealing himself. He is faithful in revealing himself and in being good to us. We often stand face to face, eye to eye with God and can’t see him.

God so loved us, that he revealed himself before we ever existed. God is faithfully acting in and around us and through us all the time. Revealing himself to us in these moments. I think of something Richard Foster says, that I think we can apply to this idea of God revealing himself in the ordinary. Perhaps we can call them God’s everyday incarnational revealings. Foster says:

The most basic place of our sacramental living is in our marriages and homes and families. Here we live together with well-reasoned love for everyone around us. Here we experience ‘the sacrament of the present moment,’ to use the phrase of Jean Pierre de Caussade. We miss the point of this way of life if we are off conducting prayer meetings and other churchly enterprises when the duty of the present moment is to be at home, playing with our children or caring for other domestic responsibilities. C.S. Lewis wisely observed, ‘The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls interruptions are precisely one’s real life—the life God is sending one day by day: what one calls one’s ‘real life’ is a phantom of one’s own imagination.

This is our life where we are right now. And this is where God reveals himself. Yes, he reveals himself cosmically and he will shake up the earth and return in full view of all humankind. We can’t even imagine what will happen and how it will be. Yes, God does stunning miraculous works now, all over the world, healing and rescuing people. God is all powerful. Daily, he faithfully reveals himself in quiet and stunning ways. Have you seen him? I have this more than sneaking suspicion that you and I may be face to face with God, even now.

Well after God revealed himself to John the Baptist, John had to point him out to others. One day, John the Baptist was hanging out with some of his disciples. He saw Jesus walk by. Apparently, which most of us know by now, Jesus didn’t have any outstanding Messiah markings. He wasn’t the ruler of the army or some skilled swordsman, or wheeler and dealer. Just a carpenter. Those standing around John the Baptist had no idea who Jesus was until John said, “Behold the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world.” John the Baptist was saying, “Look, there he is, the one we’ve long expected, one greater than me.” His two disciples took off after Jesus to find out what John was talking about. They soon found out for themselves.

Last week, I was sitting here during the meal, and Sarah came over and sat by me. She wanted to catch up. Soon Patty, and Linda, and Becky came over and sat with Iliana and me. I was somewhat tired. But I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation. I know these ladies and the others in our church, love me and my family. They care for me…for us. As I sat there, being cared for in conversation and by their attentiveness…suddenly there descended this divine contentedness in knowing that they have made a space for me. They hospitably noticed me. And in them noticing me, paying careful attention to me, I understood yet again, that God took note of me. Surprise. Surprise. There goes God revealing himself to me again. Showing his faithfulness and tender care for me and my family. Through them. They didn’t know it. But I did. And I saw and experienced God face to face. Eye to eye.

Last night, I was all ready to get a good night’s sleep. But Iliana woke up sick. She had been sick with a bad cold all week; I thought we were over it. But she wakes up, and calls to us. So, I go over to her room and she says that her ear and stomach hurt. I end up thinking this is really something, so I take her out of bed and sit with her in the papasan chair. I rubbed her back. I gave her Tylenol. She asks me if she’ll have to go to the hospital and get a shot. I say, “ I don’t know. Maybe. But shots just hurt for a second and then they insert medicine into your bloodstream to make you better.” Then I thought, “Heck, I’ll even throw in a soothing sugar-free popsicle if that’ll make her feel better.” So I did. She didn’t finish it. Then I knew something was wrong. And she cried a lot. As I was thinking about how to soothe her, I thought, “I’ll bring her into our bed. I’ll ask Shawn to sleep on the couch so he can get rest and I’ll keep her with me in case she throws up.”

Needless to say, she was thrilled at the prospect of sleeping in our bed because she never does. So I brought her over. She ended up throwing up twice. Don’t worry, we made it to the bathroom both times. I really thought that I was in for it, that I’d be up for several more hours. I also thought about this homily that I had to deliver. But it wasn’t that bad. I had only been up from 2:30-:5:30 a.m. It was around five when I was thinking that’d be a real long haul. But while we slept side by side in bed, Iliana gently stroked my arms. Kissed my hands. Asked Jesus to be with her, to help her feel better, and be brave in case she needed a shot. She asked me to pray too. And I thought, there you go again God, revealing your goodness, and gentleness, and love, and beauty through my little child, my little girl.

In our passages today, God is telling us, telling the Israelites back in that day, that he’d reveal himself. He’d show up. They’d see that he is faithful, that he is all that he claims to be. He doesn’t let us down. He says, “Kings shall see and stand up, princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the LORD, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel. . . .” In Psalm 40, David says that while I was in the pit, as I waited patiently on God, “he stooped to me and heard my cry.” God lifted David out of the pit and put a new song in his mouth. Our God, our great and beautiful God, who’s greatness no one can fathom, over and over again hears us, and stoops down to us.

That’s why David says in verses four and five, “Happy are those who trust in the LORD! They do not resort to evil spirits or turn to false gods. Great things are they that you have done, O LORD my God! How great your wonders and your plans for us! There is none who can be compared with you.”

Maybe we don’t see God, though he is right in front of us. Well of course, we should then turn to Scripture. And perhaps to others. Sometimes, we need others to point him out to us. That is what I am doing today. Others, including you, do it for me all the time. So, like John the Baptist, I am saying, “Behold the Lamb of God. Behold God, who is faithful to you.” May he satisfy you as you see his faithfulness to you.

Think about how God has been faithful to you and will be faithful to you. There’s no question that he is stooping down to lift you up, there is no question that he will continue to. Behold your God. Amen.

Darkness. Light.

There was a power outage last night. So, I grabbed candles and matches and our little flashlight. And because it was dark, I was thinking about the dark. Spiritual darkness.

In the dark, we grope around to get our bearings. We may bump into this, that, and the other. Sometimes it scares us because of all that is hidden or because we have a sense that evil lurks around the corner or could lurk in places it most often doesn't during the day. The New Testament contrasts the deeds of darkness--what is done at nightfall --with the day. Most wait for the cover of darkness, for secret, to act destructively, foolishly, and sinfully. When they think they're alone or unseen, the dark side comes out.

We know that our eyes can adjust to the dark. Not that we see clearly, but we can sometimes make our way around so long as it isn't pitch black. We get accustomed to the darkness. We become nocturnal. Yes, some of us even fall in love with the darkness. So much so, that when bright light shines in our eyes, we shun it. We turn away. The light hurts our eyes. It's overpowering.

But even a little light, a little flash light like ours, can expose the darkness. It can shed light on what is hidden. It helps us get around. Even a little light in the great darkness shines brightly.

So with this little metaphor we are reminded that as we shine forth, as we glow like Moses after he came down from Mt. Sinai, after having spent forty days and nights with God--Bible speak for a long time, we shed light in this dark world. Not only among those in the darkness but among children of light. If you remember, Moses even shone forth brightly during the day (well I think that's the case). In fact, he shone so brightly that he covered his face; people couldn't bear to look at him.

If Jesus' light shines forth through us, we are a point of reference. We help others see. Even we see because Jesus is shining forth through us. We expose the deeds of darkness as we emit light.

And of course we remember Psalm 119:105 where the Psalmnist proclaims that God's word is a lamp for our feet and light for our paths. Why? So we can see where we are going and so we won't stumble in the dark. So we won't stumble in life. So we can walk confidently.

I will probably ponder this metaphor a little longer.

Beauty.

Bruce Herman, in the essay “Wounds and Beauty,” captures well what is happening to me. He says, “Only eyes continually trained by gazing at the cross—only eyes cleansed by that second innocence, childlike habitual charity—can see true beauty—true goodness.”[i] As God is transforming me, as I more and more glimpse the gift of the cross and God’s himself, I am overwhelmed by his beauty and goodness and love.

---

[i]Treier, Husbands, and Lundin, eds. The Beauty of God: Theology and the Arts, (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2007), 119.

On Responsibility. Play. Writing. Laughter. ~ Madeleine L'Engle

I really like Madeleine L'Engle...especially her non-fiction. She is one of my favorite writers. While she is no longer living with us on this side of eternity, she is enjoying time with God and the other saints in Paradise. This is an exerpt from her book Circle of Quiet the first book in her Crosswicks Journal. (Harper San Francisco, 1972).

". . . this certainly says something about the state of Christianity today. I wouldn't mind if to be a Christian were accepted as being the dangerous thing which it is; I wouldin't mind if, when a group of Christians meet for bread and wine, we might well be interrupted and jailed for subversive activities. I wouldn't mind if, once again, we were being thrown to the lions. I do mind, desperately, that the word 'Christian' means for so many people smugness, and piosity, and holier-than-thouness. Who, today, can recognize a Christian because of "how they love one another?"

No wonder our youth is confused and in pain; they long for God, the transcendent, and are offered, far too often, either piosity or sociology, neither of which meets their needs, and they are introduced to churches which have become buildings that are safe places to escape the awful demands of God . . . .

To be responsible means precisely what the word implies: to be capable of giving a response . . . . A writer who writes a story which has no response to what is going on in the world is not only copping out himself but is helping others to be irresponsible, too . . . .

To refuse to respond is in itself a response. Those of us who write are responsible for the effect of our books. Those who teach, who suggest books to either children or adults, are responsible for their choices. Like it or not, we either add to the darkness of indifference and out-and-out evil which surround us or we light a candle to see by.

We can surely no longer pretend that our children are growing up in a peaceful, secure, and civilized world. We've come to the point where it is irresponsible to try to protect them from the irrational world they will have to live in when they grow up. The children themselves haven't yet isolated themselves by selfishness and indifference; they do not fall easily into the error of despair; they are considerably braver than most grownups. Our responsibility to them is not to pretend that if we don't look, evil will go away, but to give them weapons against it.

One of the greatest weapons of all is laughter, a gift for fun, a sense of play which is sadly missing from the grownup world . . . . Paradox again; to take ourselves seriously enough to take ourselves lightly. If every hair of my head is counted, then in the very scheme of the cosmos I matter; I am created by a power who cares about the sparrow, and the rabbit in the snare, and the people on the crowded streets; who calls the stars by name. And you. And me.

When I remember this it is as though ounds were lifted from me. I can take myself lightly, and share in the laughter . . . .

pp. 98-99.

Isolation and Spiritual Health

Repost from 3 -2008

"And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching." Hebrews 10:24-25

What happens when we are isolated from the body of Christ (even other denominations), or from people in general? Mal perceptions. In the absence of healthy others, ill-informed emotions and opinions emerge. We desinegrate into neurosis, perhaps without even knowing. It is impossible to be spiritually, emotionally, or physically healthy when we spend all of our days alone because there's no one to tell us we're wrong, in left-field, no one to encourage us when we need it most.

Life-giving nourishment comes from being immsersed in the body of Christ. Probably the only reason that we would withdraw from the body is if we're homebound for one reason or another. Otherwise, let us not merely attend church, but immerse ourselves in the body...let us spend out lives together. Our health depends on it.

Self-Control?

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Galatians 5:22,23.

Last night I was thinking about the process of sanctification and how the Lord seems to purify me (in a contemporary American colloquialism, "go to town on me")  of certain things over the span of several  years. What I mean is, I can look back on my life and think, "That was a period when I was really learning the basics of trust and peace." By that I don't mean that I've got trust or peace down, but that it seems that the Holy Spirit has lasered in on certain impurities that inhibit Christ from being fully formed in me. The Spirit then goes to work in the only way the Spirit can to purify me of them--to get them out of my system or mostly out.

If I should be tempted to fall back into those ways, the ways of the old self  in a specific area like distrust or anxiety, I reflect on what the Lord did in the past, on the lessons he taught me. I have recorded many of those lessons in  journals and even on this blog. Indeed, I often reread what I've written on here because I need the truth to sink into the depths of my soul, into my inmost being, so that there is truth in the innermost parts. So they are recorded and serve as pillars like the 12 stones of rememberance that the Israelite priests, at the command of God, set up as a pillar when they crossed the Jordan at its flood stage with Joshua at the helm.

Most recently, and generally over the last three years,  I've been learning that God desires that I seek the charism of self-control in a particular area. When others around me are in pain or turmoil--and ask for advice (and unfortunately, sometimes when they don't)--my inclination is to help in word or in deed. However, when it comes to words, I have to realize that words of (what I perceive are) wisdom do not have to be repeated and repeated. I am to say what the Lord has me say and leave it at that. Words quickly lose their meaning when so oft repeated. They become sounding gongs.

So brief words.

Then Silence.

On my part is better.

I can exhibit self-control by silence instead of what I've recently realized is my sometimes-tendency to control others with words--positive and uplifting ones at that--exhortations to follow Jesus.  Each person has a will. He/she can decide whether or not to heed the truth. God forbid that my gift of exhortation become a curse. This is a case where a strength can become a weakness without self-control.