How many of Israel’s kings turned away from the faith of King David? I heard this week of another pastor's children who are growing up and not walking with their God. God, what is going on that I would almost rather my kids not grow up in a godly home? Certainly there is something wrong with that idea!
I told my kids last night they would have immense pressure to turn away. That they would find these Bible stories boring, that they would see hypocrisy in their dad and in the church. Already my son is getting bored in Sunday School (his teacher tells me). He sits at the head of the class and answers all the questions, but he is not really being challenged. And the day will come soon when it is no longer cool to answer questions and sit at the front.
What can be done? Last night during devotions we looked at Jesus’ words, “The first shall be last, and the last shall be first.” I got him to tell me where Jesus might have him sit, giving better seats to his classmates. I got him to tell me that Jesus may have him wait to raise his hand, giving others a chance to think and answer. And I explained to him how he may pray instead of raising his hand and speaking: “God, teach my classmates, work in their hearts, help them to believe in Jesus. And God, help me to not only believe, but to be more and more amazed at these Bible stories as I grow in you.”
And God, give my sons (and daughters) wholehearted devotion to keep your commands and requirements (1 Ch 29:19).
Friday, March 28, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Our Hiding Place
Today there are many issues about which one can be concerned—economic slump, housing bust, oil crisis, America at war, and the list goes on. To be sure, this seems to be the confluence of more potential worries than any other period of my lifetime. But then I also just finished Corrie Ten Boom’s Hiding Place. In it the idea is put forth that for the Christian, there is no place on earth that is safer than any other place on earth. This truth is difficult to fathom in Corrie’s context—first, the terrifying, constant fear of being caught by the Nazis in Holland, then (after she is caught) the horrendous, dark, cold treatment and environment of the extermination camp. And yet the truth held fast.
If this is the case in one of the darkest of times of human existence, surely it is the case in 21st century America. But given our expected standard of living, many economists would have us fill our minds with anxiety and fear as they train us to expect certain, comforts, safety nets, and financial returns. Could it be that God wants us to find our security not in financial securities but in eternal securities? Could it be that we have so surrounded ourselves with earthly comforts that there is no longer any room in our hearts to long for heavenly comforts? And could it be that we are so secure in our vocations, our 401(k) balances and IRAs that we no longer need to trust God?
It is a scary thought, but I believe that a season of intense economic and physical suffering would be good for me, for the American church, and for our country. Maybe then for the first time in life many would find what is the one true and safe hiding place.
If this is the case in one of the darkest of times of human existence, surely it is the case in 21st century America. But given our expected standard of living, many economists would have us fill our minds with anxiety and fear as they train us to expect certain, comforts, safety nets, and financial returns. Could it be that God wants us to find our security not in financial securities but in eternal securities? Could it be that we have so surrounded ourselves with earthly comforts that there is no longer any room in our hearts to long for heavenly comforts? And could it be that we are so secure in our vocations, our 401(k) balances and IRAs that we no longer need to trust God?
It is a scary thought, but I believe that a season of intense economic and physical suffering would be good for me, for the American church, and for our country. Maybe then for the first time in life many would find what is the one true and safe hiding place.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Why Confessions?
March 19, 2008
In chapter five of Augustine’s Confessions, he writes
Narrow is the mansion of my soul; enlarge Thou it, that Thou mayest enter in. It is ruinous; repair Thou it. It has that within which must offend Thine eyes; I confess and know it. But who shall cleanse it? Or to whom should I cry, save Thee?
I would never compare myself with St. Augustine, but there are three things I love about the way Augustine writes. First, he knows that he is broken. He is deeply aware of how infinitesimally small and sinful he is in comparison with the overwhelmingly great and holy God. One of the primary reasons I write is for my children to have a window into my soul as they grow up and sometimes wonder what their dad was really like. And more than anything I want them to know that I am the "chief of all sinners," saved by a great and gracious God.
Second, I love Augustine’s interactive, meditative style. He writes (and prays) as if God is right there in front of him answering back and dialoguing with him. Perhaps this is more the way we should approach God, instead of our often hurried, unidirectional, wish-list prayers. In fact, is it not truly the case that God is right there with us answering, but we do not hear because of the noise in our environment, and in our pace.
Third, I love the simplicity of Augustine’s philosophical musings. Yes, he proved that he can be a careful and meticulous theologian, so respected that many different camps would claim him as their own. But he also has a knack to write deep thoughts about life in very simple terms. And it is such simple reflections on life that often come to my mind and that I wish at times to write down for my children, and anyone else who wishes, to enjoy.
In chapter five of Augustine’s Confessions, he writes
Narrow is the mansion of my soul; enlarge Thou it, that Thou mayest enter in. It is ruinous; repair Thou it. It has that within which must offend Thine eyes; I confess and know it. But who shall cleanse it? Or to whom should I cry, save Thee?
I would never compare myself with St. Augustine, but there are three things I love about the way Augustine writes. First, he knows that he is broken. He is deeply aware of how infinitesimally small and sinful he is in comparison with the overwhelmingly great and holy God. One of the primary reasons I write is for my children to have a window into my soul as they grow up and sometimes wonder what their dad was really like. And more than anything I want them to know that I am the "chief of all sinners," saved by a great and gracious God.
Second, I love Augustine’s interactive, meditative style. He writes (and prays) as if God is right there in front of him answering back and dialoguing with him. Perhaps this is more the way we should approach God, instead of our often hurried, unidirectional, wish-list prayers. In fact, is it not truly the case that God is right there with us answering, but we do not hear because of the noise in our environment, and in our pace.
Third, I love the simplicity of Augustine’s philosophical musings. Yes, he proved that he can be a careful and meticulous theologian, so respected that many different camps would claim him as their own. But he also has a knack to write deep thoughts about life in very simple terms. And it is such simple reflections on life that often come to my mind and that I wish at times to write down for my children, and anyone else who wishes, to enjoy.
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