Don’t Base Your Theology on a Prayer

  June 18, 2013 - 12:00 am |
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Image Source: http://mrg.bz/U4qghV

Image Source: http://mrg.bz/U4qghV

One of the ways we get ourselves into trouble in our faith is when we think of the Bible as a book, instead of a collection of books.

 

The Bible is full of different works, written by different authors, in different genres across different times. We should be more thoughtful than we often are in how we approach each work. One verse quoted from a Pauline letter and another quoted from an Old Testament narrative have very different contexts.

 

In the Old Testament, Israel operated as a theocracy. God didn’t even give them a king until they whined to get one. God was to be their King.

 

Which means that even after they received a king, they viewed the success of their country on the blessings of God. If they were doing well, they saw it as God’s favor. If they were doing poorly, they saw it as God’s judgment.

 

We all know life is rarely that linear.

 

And the Scriptures do show depth in that line of thinking. Israel was blessed in order to be a blessing to the world. So though sometimes that meant God lead them to military victories, it also meant He commanded them to welcome the stranger and the alien.

 

We need to read the whole of the Old Testament, and the whole of the Scriptures, in order to develop a robust theology of who God is, and how He works. And as we read the Bible, we should remember what genre we are reading, and interpret it in context of the bigger picture.

 

Psalm 60 is full of the kind of military language and assumptions that makes the Old Testament feel distant to many.

 

“You have rejected us, O God, and broken our defenses.
    You have been angry with us; now restore us to your favor.” – vs 1

 

When we read this, we get frustrated with the assumption that when things aren’t going well it’s because people did something to displease God.

 

“Now rescue your beloved people.
    Answer and save us by your power.” – vs 5

 

Even more frustrating is the assumption that God will then show His favor by granting the people victory by His power. Who are they to declare themselves worthy of that?

 

And it concludes with this craziness:

 

“With God’s help we will do mighty things,
    for he will trample down our foes.” – vs 12

 

What an assumption- that God will help them trample their foes!

 

These verses could easily lead to a theology that says: When life is difficult, God is punishing me. But if I remain faithful, He will reward me, and give me victory.

 

That’s sounds nice, but we all know it’s more complicated than that. And I’m guessing the writer of this Psalm did too. And that is where genre and context come into play.

 

As a nation under God’s rule, times of trouble took Israel in a different direction than it takes us. (Although, we can think about how we praise and blame the president according to how we feel about the state of our nation…) Psalm 60 is not intended to teach us about how nations work. It is intended to teach us about prayer.

 

Here are three things I think we can learn about prayer from Psalm 60.

 

First, it shows us the importance of praying as a community.

 

We so often fall into the trap of an individualized faith. The Bible points to the richness that comes when people gather: confessing together, asking for help as one, supporting each other, and recognizing how our choices and habits effect one another.

 

Second, it subtly reminds us to lean into God’s promises and His character.

 

There is a word in verse 5 that would be easy to miss, but is incredibly important. “Now rescue your beloved people.” God promised them an unfailing love. They clung to that when they felt like His love was failing. They claimed their identity.

 

Third, it helps us hold the tension of God’s sovereignty and human free will.

 

The debates have raged for ages about how these two seemingly opposite things weave together into the workings of the world. But in our prayers, we don’t have to solve the riddle of how these two co-exist; we can simply lean into both. We can go into the battles we feel God leading us to fight, and make the choice to pray as we do so. At the same time we can acknowledge, as the last verses of this psalm do, that it is only with God’s help that we will win.

 

So let’s allow the Bible to influence us, but let’s also be thoughtful about how we do so. Let Psalm 60 influence your prayers more than your theology.

 

Add the link to your post about Psalm 60 below. Make sure to read someone else’s post, too! Or join next week with a post on Psalm 61.

I am standing with my friend today

  June 17, 2013 - 8:02 am | ,
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I wish every Christian had an LGBT friend. Not necessarily because it would change beliefs (though sometimes, perhaps, it would), but because it would change the tone and posture of a conversation that is not just about issues, but about people.

 

RR headerToday I am guest posting for one of my friends. He writes anonymously as Registered Runaway (If you have followed links on my Psalms Journey series, you may recognize RR). He is gay. His identity is also much more than that label. He is a gifted writer with a bright future ahead of him. He has maintained a heart to follow God, even in the midst of a confusing and frustrating journey. He has a warm smile that gives away his even warmer heart. In short, he is a great guy.

 

So, when he asked if I would write something for his love letter series, I said yes to my friend. It’s a little outside the norm from what I usually write, but it’s a message I wanted to share. It’s a message about standing with, instead of standing between. Here’s how it begins:

 

I almost didn’t write this letter. Writing an open love letter to the LGBT community is outside my comfort zone.

 

I usually shy away from controversial topics when I write. I leave them to the people I deem better equipped than myself to handle criticism. I thought about the contentious nature of these discussions, about how a letter like this could blow up in my face or get people angry with me, and I wondered if it would be worth it.

 

And then, I thought again. Love should not be controversial.

 


Read the rest of my post I Will Stand Beside You on Registered Runaway’s site today.

Listening like a Leaf

  June 14, 2013 - 4:09 pm |
6 Comments

 

I cannot expect to feel the wind if I never get outside.

 

So why do I expect I can hear the Spirit if I never give myself space to listen?

 

We fill our days with so many things. Good things. Important things. We read. We watch. We play. We build. We cook. We talk.

 

How often do we bring ourselves into silent spaces?

 

I get frustrated because I want to feel God’s presence and hear His voice more tangibly in my life. But I wonder how much of that is on me.

 

When I give Him only a moment, how can I expect more than a whisper?

 

Listening to the Holy Spirit means being shaken like a leaf in the wind.

shaken by the Spirit

To let that happen, I need to go where the Spirit is. To find where it is silent so I can hear Him. To find where He is moving so I can feel Him.

 

I seek entertainment more than I seek meaning. I seek satisfaction more than I seek calling.

 

Holy Spirit, I want to go where you are. I want to make space for you to come where I am.  I want to listen and I want to move. I want my life to be about more than the next little thing.

 

I want it to be about what matters: You and how You are transforming the world.

 

The wind is blowing. I want to feel. I want to listen. I want to be moved.

 

Five Minute FridayThis post is linking up with Lisa Jo Baker’s Five Minute Friday. A weekly prompt with strict instructions: write for 5 minutes and post. No over-editing. No do-overs. An practice of freedom. A way to let go of perfectionism. An exercise for some not often used writing muscles. Read more posts or link up over there. Today’s prompt was: LISTEN.
(Full disclosure: I write the post in 5 minutes, but I take a little extra time to create a graphic to go with it. I think that’s still okay according to the rules…)

It’s Time to Stop Performing

  June 12, 2013 - 8:12 am |
8 Comments

Be careful what you say, because you may have to listen to your own words.

 

That thought is playing through my brain on repeat this morning, as I realize how I need to listen to my own advice. The words I spoke in a message not long ago on living like we are loved.

 

I spoke on the story of Jesus and the children from Mark 10, the one in which he welcomes children into his arms and blesses them. That story is sandwiched between the story of the Pharisees quizzing Jesus about divorce and the rich young ruler telling Jesus he has obeyed all the commandments.

 

The placement of the stories highlights to me an important distinction between the kids and adults in these scenes. The adults are living like they are performing- trying to ask the right questions or do the right things- for each other or for God. The kids are living like they are loved- assuming that they can come to Jesus just as they are and He will take them in his arms.

 

Original Image Source: http://mrg.bz/FmR7jC

Original Image Source: http://mrg.bz/FmR7jC

So, my main question that night was this: Are we are living like we are loved or living like we are performing?

 

Which means I am forced to ask myself the same question.

 

In the past several weeks, I have been weighed down by insecurities. I walk around with bags of nerves about my writing, my speaking, my work, my parenting, my appearance, and my friendships. Bundled up with my anxieties are some ugly feelings like jealousy and envy and pride, which are particularly heavy in my arms.

 

I am tired. I need to put these weights down. In order to do that, I have to figure out where they are coming from. And I’m pretty sure the answer to that lies in my own question.

 

I am performing.

 

I walk around trying to look my best for others and wonder what they think of me. I don’t walk around with the security that I am loved. My arms aren’t wrapped around the shoulders of Jesus, so I fill them with baggage from each interaction I have along the way.

 

How would things be different if I lived like I am loved?

 

I’m going to have to start answering my own question.

 

How about you? Do you live like you are loved or like you are performing?

 

(If you are interested in the audio from that message, you can find it on this page: http://www.thetableatcpc.org/series. It’s a message in the “Valuable” series titled “Kids.”)

exchanging my walls for a fortress

  June 11, 2013 - 12:00 am | ,
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psalm 59

I often hide crumbling piles of rocks, hoping they will shield me.

 

I see the arrows fly and the swords flash, and I run scared. I search for solace behind walls of my own building. I pray that somehow these dilapidated barricades could be enough to protect me from pain I see everywhere I look.

 

I feel exposed every time one of my stones falls to the ground. And so I run behind another wall.

 

I long for protection, but these walls aren’t cutting it. I keep watch for something stronger. Something sure and stable.

 

You are my strength, I watch for you;
    you, God, are my fortress,
     my God on whom I can rely. – Psalm 59:9-10

 

Is that really true? Is it God who is my fortress? It doesn’t always feel that way. Sometimes I feel more like He is a pile of ruble. He is a rock, but He is not impenetrable. My life still has pain and difficulty.

 

Yet I know there is a deep difference in the peace of my soul when I am living in Him.

 

I will sing of your strength,
    in the morning I will sing of your love;
for you are my fortress,
    my refuge in times of trouble.

You are my strength, I sing praise to you;
    you, God, are my fortress,
    my God on whom I can rely. – Psalm 59:16-17

 

God, you are my fortress.

 

I find protection behind your walls and perspective from atop your towers.

 

You provide me with rest and peace from the battles that wage for my life.

 

I am embraced by the sureness of Your rock surrounding me wherever I look.

 

Thank you for welcoming me in. You give me a place of belonging and hope.

 

Add the link to your post about Psalm 59 below. Make sure to read someone else’s post, too! Or join next week with a post on Psalm 60.

Falling Over into Memories

  June 7, 2013 - 10:14 am |
3 Comments

 

“Let’s do sit down fall over!”

 

It happened by accident the first time, as most habits do. My boys sat down in front of the door as I was turning the knob. They leaned back, the door opened, they fell over, and the giggles began.

 

They looked up at me with smiles and stretched up their legs into the air as far as they could. “What’s the password, Mommy?”

 

I started with please. Then pretty please. Then pretty please with sugar on top. Until finally, they allowed me to pass, and the laughter ensued.

 

laughter at the doorMost days when we get home, they chant their desire to play this simple game. It’s not a Pinterest-worthy tradition. It doesn’t involve prep on my part. It’s not surrounding a special holiday. It’s just a simple, everyday expression of fun and family.

 

It is a habit that tumbled into a tradition and is falling over into memories.

 

One day, my boys’ legs will be too big to step over. And until then, I will let my boys be the gatekeepers of my house, so that laughter is the door that brings us inside.

 

Five Minute FridayThis post is linking up with Lisa Jo Baker’s Five Minute Friday. A weekly prompt with strict instructions: write for 5 minutes and post. No over-editing. No do-overs. An practice of freedom. A way to let go of perfectionism. An exercise for some not often used writing muscles. Read more posts or link up over there. Today’s prompt was: FALL.
(Full disclosure: I write the post in 5 minutes, but I take a little extra time to create a graphic to go with it. I think that’s still okay according to the rules…)

the brutal language of Psalm 58

  June 4, 2013 - 12:00 am |
3 Comments

 

Psalm 58There are times when the language of the Psalms seeps with violence.

 

It can be so difficult to relate across time and space to these words of the people of Israel. Almost always, when I come Psalms that are frustrating or chill-inducing, I put them in the, “maybe these words felt different back then” box.

 

Like the language of Psalm 58, for example. It is a community prayer against unjust rulers that uses words like this,

 

Break the teeth in their mouths, O God;
    Lord, tear out the fangs of those lions! – Psalm 58:6

 

Those words make me quiver. They are harsh and vicious and seem so different from the way we are called to pray in the New Testament.

 

And yet, I wonder how much of my reaction to violent verses is bound up not just in the time that has passed since ancient Israel, but also in the cultural comforts of suburban United States.

 

We live in a democracy. We may disagree with our rulers, or get frustrated by what they do, but we have options we can pursue to remove those leaders from power. Justice may not be divided equally and fairly to all populations, but generally, we are not violently oppressed by our government.

 

There are many places in the world in which that is not the case.

 

I think of my friend Chelsie, who spent several years living in the Congo. She now does a lot of advocating on behalf of their people. Not long ago, she wrote these unsettling words in a blog post about the trials that country faces,

 

“Tribal conflict and militias fuel rape being used as a weapon of war. 9 out of 10 women in Eastern Congo have been raped.”

 

Let that soak in for a moment. 90 percent of the women in Eastern Congo have been raped because of a fight for power.

 

I wonder if those women would find the words of Psalm 58:6 so distant. I wonder if the church there would feel uncomfortable, as I do, praying the words that close the Psalm

 

The righteous will be glad when they are avenged,
    when they dip their feet in the blood of the wicked.
Then people will say,
    “Surely the righteous still are rewarded;
    surely there is a God who judges the earth.” – Psalm 58:10-11

 

All of us wonder sometimes about how God is using His Sovereignty and Power. We don’t understand why He isn’t doing more to stop the atrocities taking place in the world. I can’t imagine how that feeling would be magnified if I was a person living in the midst of them. Surely the hearts of Christ followers in those places are crying all the more deeply for God’s justice to come.  Which includes a desire for evil to be swept away.

 

Though few would truly wish violent death on anyone, wouldn’t we also have a sense of gladness if those who were oppressing others were no longer able to do so? Especially if we were the ones victimized?

 

 

Too often, we try to force ourselves to feel the way we should about a situation. We know Jesus calls us to love our enemies. And so we pray words we don’t mean. Instead, this is a model of praying that for which our heart cries, and then leaving the outcome in God’s hands. And when we do, we can let Him get to work on our hearts, helping us to love.

 

The prayer of Psalm 58 is distant and brutal. But it is also threaded with honesty. The world is a hostile place. When we need to, we can cry for God to show up and rain down His justice.

 

Add the link to your post about Psalm 58 below. Make sure to read someone else’s post, too! Or join next week with a post on Psalm 59.



the exuberant imagination of God

  May 31, 2013 - 2:46 pm |
5 Comments

Imagine if the creation of this world had been only pragmatic. If God had done only what was needed to sustain life, not what would inspire it.

 

Imagine of flowers existed in only a few hues, or just a handful of shapes and sizes. What wonder would be lost as we looked across the landscape of a field in the summertime?

 

Imagine if the birds did not sing us into spring time, but flitted around in silence, doing their work without inviting us into their dance.

 

Imagine if land was only flat with no mountains pulling our eyes to the sky, and shadowing our frames in their majesty.

 

Imagine if the wind did not rustle the leaves of the trees, and blow through the lengths of our hair, reminding us that sometimes beauty is felt more than it is seen.

 

Our God created this world from His exuberant imagination. He created us from that same place.

 God's exuberant imagination

 

So often we imagine what it would be like if we didn’t have this trait or that trait. As if it would make us better if we were not ourselves.

 

Would this world be better if it were less than what it is? Neither would we be better if we were not ourselves.

 

When we cannot see that, we need to expand our imaginations. We are beautiful.

 

Five Minute FridayThis post is linking up with Lisa Jo Baker’s Five Minute Friday. A weekly prompt with strict instructions: write for 5 minutes and post. No over-editing. No do-overs. An practice of freedom. A way to let go of perfectionism. An exercise for some not often used writing muscles. Read more posts or link up over there. Today’s prompt was: IMAGINE.
(Full disclosure: I write the post in 5 minutes, but I take a little extra time to create a graphic to go with it. I think that’s still okay according to the rules…)

Breakthrough, A Reflection on Psalm 57

  May 28, 2013 - 12:00 am | ,
10 Comments

 

I have trouble spelling Brenna’s last name, but that’s okay, because on Twitter she goes by Brenna D anyway. And, it feels right to think of her on a first name basis, even though we have never met in person. I think most people feel that way about her. Her presence is a warm and encouraging gift to many. I hope her words are a gift to you today.

 

I’ve spoken before, about these Psalms, about my heart clamoring alongside David’s very heart. I have felt it coming from all sides and cried out to my God, praying for deliverance, asking for help. I look back on my Bible and I can see tear stains next to some of these Psalms, the ones that I would read aloud over and over as my prayer to God when my own words failed me.

 

But today. Today I read this Psalm, a Psalm of deliverance and praise.

 

Praise.

 

I will sing, yes, I will sing praises!
Awake, my glory!
Awake, harp and lyre!
I will awaken the dawn.
I will give thanks to You, O Lord, among the peoples;
I will sing praises to You among the nations.
For Your lovingkindness is great to the heavens
And Your truth to the clouds.
Be exalted above the heavens, O God!
Let Your glory be above all the earth.

Psalm 57:7-11, NASB

 

How did I miss that? How have I never noticed the words of praise that came from David’s lips? These are words that have filled the songs we sing at church. These phrases and word combinations are ingrained in me and as I read them I can hear the melodies that accompany them. And yet, in my fear, in my longing, in my desperation the only words I saw were his words of supplication.

 

I think that sums up the past few years of my life. It’s a horrid thing to admit and I feel exposed as I share the raw and tattered bits of my heart. But it’s a true thing and I have to believe that I am not the only one. Is it a universal, or perhaps at least a Westernized, feeling to be so wrapped up in our pain, in our hurt, in our disappointments, that we can’t see past them?

 

I don’t think I’m alone.

Breakthrough

This past weekend I went on a writing retreat with some amazing people. As I drove the two and a half hours to a cabin in Michigan, I was alone with my thoughts. I recalled the events and the feelings which had shaped me and made me who I was at that moment – tired, fearful, cynical, and entirely not myself. My empty car suddenly felt very full.

 

We sat that first night in a circle, and wrote on post-it notes two words that described us at that moment. I held back tears as I scribbled out in black ink the truth on a blue, sticky square. Moments later I held an orange square and we were asked to write two words that we wanted to describe us. The words came from a part of me I don’t even like to go to, because hope has become a liability. But I wrote them out, feeling miles away from them.

 

The next day I took a walk. I walked outside and even though the air was cool, the sun shined bright on me, casting shadows through the leaves of the trees that covered me as I walked down paths, finding my way to the lake that was somewhere hidden behind the cabins. I followed the well worn path and came to a V in the road. I chuckled to myself as I heard the words of Robert Frost echo in the great expanse.

Two Paths

It was a moment of realization. Perhaps it was the fresh air. Maybe the shining sun. The dirt road underneath my feet? Or maybe it was a heart that was open to hearing the Spirit. But I knew that I had two choices. I could continue on as I have been, and I would spend my days crying out for deliverance. Or, I could live a life of praise, even when the circumstances around me whisper to me that things will never change.

 

I know it would be foolish to imagine I live in a utopian dream world where I will never have struggles, never want to shake God and ask Him why. And that’s not what I am choosing. I am simply making a decision to praise, even after I yell to the heavens. To praise, after I cry, crumpled on the floor. To sing His goodness, even in the midst of my pain.

 

Brenna Bio PicAbout Today’s Guest Blogger: Brenna D’Ambrosio

Brenna is a city-living, tender-hearted wife and mama to three little girls who encourage her daily to seek out the beauty in life. She loves travel, Diet Coke, homemade bread, and Indian food. There is always something cooking in her oven so stop on by. You will most likely find her either shuffling her girls off to an activity or cuddling with her family at home. She blogs about brokenness and redemption at Beautiful Things  and you can find her on Twitter and Facebook too.

Add the link to your post about Psalm 57 below. Make sure to read someone else’s post, too! Or join next week with a post on Psalm 58.



Changing How We View the Present

  May 24, 2013 - 10:23 am |
6 Comments

 

There was a wonderful moment earlier today. I was dressed and ready, cup of coffee in hand, sitting in the living room. The kids weren’t up yet. My view was of a calm and clean room, with the bright greens of spring looking in on me through the window.

 

The possibilities of a peaceful morning stretched before me.

 

But before I could act on them, the kids woke up.

 

And my view changed to chaos.

 

Instead of a clean room, there was a pile of toys. Instead of quiet space to write and reflect, there was whining and neediness everywhere.

 

view of past, present, & futureThis is one of life’s great temptations: to view the past as full of good memories, the future as full of possibilities, and the present as full of inconvenience.

 

We have to consciously change our view. And see the present with the eyes with which we might view it from the future.

 

To focus on the hand-holding more than the hair-pulling. To notice the smiles more than the cries. To play and laugh and wrestle and tickle, and view those things as the joy they are while the days are upon us.

 

As Andy Bernard said at the conclusion of The Office, “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”

 

So in the midst of the stresses, I want to change my view and see more. I want to see that the good days that are upon me.

Five Minute FridayThis post is linking up with Lisa Jo Baker’s Five Minute Friday. A weekly prompt with strict instructions: write for 5 minutes and post. No over-editing. No do-overs. An practice of freedom. A way to let go of perfectionism. An exercise for some not often used writing muscles. Read more posts or link up over there. Today’s prompt was: VIEW.
(Full disclosure: I write the post in 5 minutes, but I take a little extra time to create a graphic to go with it. I think that’s still okay according to the rules…)