I've been sucked into the whirlwind of tournament season. My mother and I have since decided that never again are we going to be stupid enough to attend two tournaments one after another. Three days is not enough time to recover, especially when you're up until at least midnight each night researching. However, at the end of a long two weeks, I can definitely say that I've seen two things. First, my utter inadaquacy, and second, the blessing of improvement.
2 Corinithans 3:5-6
Not that we are adequate in ourselves to consider anything as coming from oursleves, but our adequacy is from God, who also made us adequate as servants of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit: for the letter kills, but the Spirit gies life.
1 Corinthians 2:1-5
And when I came to you, brethren, I did not come with superiority of speech or of wisdom, proclaiming to you the testomony of God. For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. I was with you in seakness and in fear and in much trembling, and my message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God.
So now, as I reach the end of the day, and the beginning of a long three weeks or so before I head off on another tournament adventure, I'm left with one thought that is worth remembering. ...Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.
I spent the last two weeks honing my persuasive speaking skills, and practicing that by speaking about God's truth, the experiences of my life, and current environmental policy. (Apologetics, Impromptu, and Team Policy Debate) However, God's message does not depend on my ability. Paul didn't come with persuasive words. He came in fear and much trembling. So while I believe that it is important to sharpen my skills as a communicator... that is completely insignificant compared to Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.
Not only that, but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified is the only reason that I am able to improve. I cannot consider anything as coming from myself because my adaquacy is from God. I'm made adaquate, why? ... because I am "a servant of a new covenant"... Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.
At the two tournaments, my debate partner, Eric, and I place fourth out of 45 teams, and forth out of 17 teams. I placed third and fourth in apologetics. I qualified to regionals in all of the events I competed in... at both tournaments. But at the end of the day, I can't say it was me, and I can't say that it means anything when compared to what really matters.
My trophies will collect dust, my medals will be forgotten, and my certificates will get folded and stored, or simply thrown away. No one will remember the results in a week or two. And at this point I have to say, that in light of the awards, I feel more insignificant. In light of the placings, I feel more inadaquate. Yes, the results are a blessing, but they must be realized in the correct light, or else they present a false hope. ...I resolve to know nothing except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.
2 Corinthians 5:14-15
For the love of Christ controls us, having concluded this, that one died for all, therefore all died: and He died for all, so that they who live might no longer live for themselves, but for Him who died and rose again on their behalf.
Jan 31, 2010
Jan 16, 2010
The Man that Dies with the most Toys... Still Dies.
One of the most amazing things about Jesus life is that He practiced what He preached. (No duh!) But this particular command that He gave to us, I saw in a new light as I was thinking about it recently.
Matthew 6:19-20, "Do not store up for youreslves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where theives break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where theives do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
The Jews of the day thought that their Messiah would come and deliver them from under Roman rule. However, Jesus came not to save the people from a physical oppression, but rather a spiritual oppression. Instead of overcoming their physical enemies, Christ overcame their spiritual enemies.
If Christ simply came to overcome the Romans, that victory would only last on earth. However, Christ's work on the cross stores up treasures in heaven. Through His gift of eternal life that He provides through His death, we are given eternal life. Instead of stimply saving the people from the dangers of oppression of their physical lives, Christ's gift to His people would last for eternity.
Christ Fulfilled His own command through His gift of spiritual Salvation.
Also, another idea was challenging to me. When Christ died, no one understood what He was accomplishing. There was no appreciation in their eyes, no words of encouragement from their lips, but rather the people either didn't understand, or they condemned Him. Does this not parallel Christians storing up treasures in heaven? Oftentimes when we make choices to spend our lives doing those things that will count for eternity, the world doesn't understand why.
The apostle Paul says it best in His letter to Timothy:
“For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline. Therefore, do not be afraid of the testimony of our Lord or of me His prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel according to the power of God, who has saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace which was granted us in Christ Jesus from all eternity, but now has been revealed by the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel…”
- 2 Timothy 1:7-10
Matthew 6:19-20, "Do not store up for youreslves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where theives break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where theives do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
The Jews of the day thought that their Messiah would come and deliver them from under Roman rule. However, Jesus came not to save the people from a physical oppression, but rather a spiritual oppression. Instead of overcoming their physical enemies, Christ overcame their spiritual enemies.
If Christ simply came to overcome the Romans, that victory would only last on earth. However, Christ's work on the cross stores up treasures in heaven. Through His gift of eternal life that He provides through His death, we are given eternal life. Instead of stimply saving the people from the dangers of oppression of their physical lives, Christ's gift to His people would last for eternity.
Christ Fulfilled His own command through His gift of spiritual Salvation.
Also, another idea was challenging to me. When Christ died, no one understood what He was accomplishing. There was no appreciation in their eyes, no words of encouragement from their lips, but rather the people either didn't understand, or they condemned Him. Does this not parallel Christians storing up treasures in heaven? Oftentimes when we make choices to spend our lives doing those things that will count for eternity, the world doesn't understand why.
The apostle Paul says it best in His letter to Timothy:
“For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline. Therefore, do not be afraid of the testimony of our Lord or of me His prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel according to the power of God, who has saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace which was granted us in Christ Jesus from all eternity, but now has been revealed by the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel…”
- 2 Timothy 1:7-10
Jan 14, 2010
Become like Little Children
I've just started reading John Piper's book "What Jesus Demands of the World", and while I am planning on reading it straight through, I skip around a little at the same time. I came across Demand #17: Humble Yourself in Childlikeness, servanthood, and brokenhearted boldness.
Biblical Text Reference: Matt. 18:2-4
In that chapter, Piper writes:
"Humility is not only like the servant who says, 'I am an unworthy servant;' humility is also like a child at rest in his father's arms."
I remember back when we lived in Albany, Oregon. My dad would hold me in church and I would strum the decorative buttons on his dress jacket sleeve to the beat of the music that my mom was playing up at the piano. I remember curling up in bed next to him in the middle of the night when I had a bad dream. I remember having to sit on his shoulders to see over a crowd of people. I even remember finding the wrong pair of blue pants, and upon looking up, realized I wasn't hugging my dad's leg, but rather had found one of the McDonalds employees. ...that terrifying memory has stuck around for a long time.
But all of these experiences point to a type of neediness. I was to little too see over the crowd of people. I was too restless to stand still on my own in church. I was too scared to be alone after having a nightmare. I wasn't enough for me.
Piper writes: "'Little ones' emphasizes that they are not great in the eyes of the world. They are not strong. They are not self-sufficient. ... Children may have all kinds of faults, but in a normal, healthy family they trust their daddy to take care of them."
_______________
Several years ago, a few of my sisters were sitting in the school room. Aundra had a question for Sarah, and Sarah didn't have an answer. Megan looked up from her coloring picture, and in a completely serious tone said, "Ask Dad that question, he knows everything." ...and resumed her coloring.
Piper writes: "We must humble ourselves in both ways: like an unworthy servant and like a trusting child. ... "What marks them is that they 'believe in me.' That is, they trust not in themselves but in Jesus." ... "They are happy, anxiety-free, and confident that everything they need will be provided."
Megan knew that my dad could give her an answer to anything. She recognized his immense knowledge and understanding and trusted his answers beyond a shadow of a doubt.
______________
Later in the chapter Piper writes, "Jesus knew that children were not models for imitation in his day. The reason he chose them is because of "their powerlessness and their low social standing."(Ulric Luz, commentary) His demand is that we end our love affair with power and status and self-sufficiency and rights and control."
Remembering back to my childhood days, I didn't give a rip about social standing or what was normal...
Biblical Text Reference: Matt. 18:2-4
In that chapter, Piper writes:
"Humility is not only like the servant who says, 'I am an unworthy servant;' humility is also like a child at rest in his father's arms."
But all of these experiences point to a type of neediness. I was to little too see over the crowd of people. I was too restless to stand still on my own in church. I was too scared to be alone after having a nightmare. I wasn't enough for me.
Piper writes: "'Little ones' emphasizes that they are not great in the eyes of the world. They are not strong. They are not self-sufficient. ... Children may have all kinds of faults, but in a normal, healthy family they trust their daddy to take care of them."
_______________
Several years ago, a few of my sisters were sitting in the school room. Aundra had a question for Sarah, and Sarah didn't have an answer. Megan looked up from her coloring picture, and in a completely serious tone said, "Ask Dad that question, he knows everything." ...and resumed her coloring.
Piper writes: "We must humble ourselves in both ways: like an unworthy servant and like a trusting child. ... "What marks them is that they 'believe in me.' That is, they trust not in themselves but in Jesus." ... "They are happy, anxiety-free, and confident that everything they need will be provided."
Megan knew that my dad could give her an answer to anything. She recognized his immense knowledge and understanding and trusted his answers beyond a shadow of a doubt.
______________
Later in the chapter Piper writes, "Jesus knew that children were not models for imitation in his day. The reason he chose them is because of "their powerlessness and their low social standing."(Ulric Luz, commentary) His demand is that we end our love affair with power and status and self-sufficiency and rights and control."
Remembering back to my childhood days, I didn't give a rip about social standing or what was normal...
While Christians need to represent Christ well, it's important that we not get wrapped up in our social standing. Instead, realizing how much we depend on God, we ought to be honest and transparent, knowing that we don't have to prove ourselves. Our standing with God is the only one that matters, and Jesus took care of that.
______________
Piper writes:
"Of course, Jesus is not calling us to be as unproductive or as immature as children. That's not the point of the comparison. The point is that we not love being stronger or more intelligent or richer than others-that our joy does not reside in a feeling of superiority. The point is that we not begrudge the absence of recognition if the world does not value what Jesus calls us to do. We must not fret over being thought lowly and even foolish by worldly standards. Instead we must "believe" in Jesus the way a child believes. We must find our security and meaning and joy in Jesus and all that our heavenly Father is for us in him."
Essentially, childlikeness ought to manifest itself in humility, but also a deep-seated and transparent trust in Christ. It ought to bring about a joy through relying on Christ's gift of salvation, and an enduring hope that keeps my eyes bright and my gaze set on eternity. In the same honest way a little one trusts in a father, I can look to God with that same childlike belief that says, "I just have faith, and that's all I need."
Jan 13, 2010
An Intellectual Reality Check
I was the good little apologetics girl. I studied for hours and hours, finding verses, reading quotes, writing my own analysis and explanation of different topics relating to the Christian faith. I could explain deism, transcendentalism, and postmodernism. I memorized scripture. I read my Bible. Not only that, but I knew this wasn’t everything. I knew that I didn’t become righteous by what I did, but rather, what Christ did in me. …but at the same time, I knew there was something I was missing. However, I sure didn’t expect what was coming.
David (Zachary): “Do you believe the Bible is true?”
Me: “Yes.”
David (Zachary): “Why?”
I blinked as I sat there feeling my internal temperature rise as I came to the horrifying conclusion that I didn’t have a good answer. I knew the Bible was the inerrant, complete, divinely inspired, biblical cannon of Scripture. I knew it was the Word of God. But that wasn’t the question. After I managed some fumble of an answer, the discussion moved on… but to be frank… I was mad. Why didn’t I have a good answer?
I sat on my bed that night, unable to sleep until I resolved the issue. David, playing a devil’s advocate naturalist, had spent a considerable amount of time in class arguing against the very book that his roomful of Christian students all held dear. I sat in my room by the light of a low lit lamp, and wrestled with his arguments until I followed them to the root of the issue, formed a satisfactory response, preached it (quietly) to my bedroom walls at least five times, and then finally was able to sleep.
Things only escalated from there. I spent the thirty-five minute drive home from worldview class several weeks in a row, discouraged and frustrated at my lack of answers and trying to pick up the pieces of my shattered paradigm. From a bizarre exegesis of the story of Achan in the book of Joshua, to questions and logical fallacies that made my mind freeze, my intellect and responses were constantly challenged, and my unsettled and insecure feeling only increased to the point that I felt stripped of what knowledge-related security I once thought I had.
I had a conversation about this feeling with my teacher one evening before class. David talked about how he stretches our intellect and responses intentionally by using hard questions and arguments as a way to show us, in a safe setting, how we ought to think thoughtfully. But one of the points he made that I doubt I will ever forget was , “You reach the point where all you have left to cling to is a blood-drenched cross…and you stand at the foot of that cross, and wrestle with the hard questions.”
As the conversation came to a close, I felt incredibly relieved. However, I’m not going to pretend this experience is over; I know that I’m just getting started. There is always more to consider, understand, and contemplate. But I also know that if I hadn’t had this experience, I wouldn’t know what I now know about what I don’t know.
Thank you, David.
David (Zachary): “Do you believe the Bible is true?”
Me: “Yes.”
David (Zachary): “Why?”
I blinked as I sat there feeling my internal temperature rise as I came to the horrifying conclusion that I didn’t have a good answer. I knew the Bible was the inerrant, complete, divinely inspired, biblical cannon of Scripture. I knew it was the Word of God. But that wasn’t the question. After I managed some fumble of an answer, the discussion moved on… but to be frank… I was mad. Why didn’t I have a good answer?
I sat on my bed that night, unable to sleep until I resolved the issue. David, playing a devil’s advocate naturalist, had spent a considerable amount of time in class arguing against the very book that his roomful of Christian students all held dear. I sat in my room by the light of a low lit lamp, and wrestled with his arguments until I followed them to the root of the issue, formed a satisfactory response, preached it (quietly) to my bedroom walls at least five times, and then finally was able to sleep.
Things only escalated from there. I spent the thirty-five minute drive home from worldview class several weeks in a row, discouraged and frustrated at my lack of answers and trying to pick up the pieces of my shattered paradigm. From a bizarre exegesis of the story of Achan in the book of Joshua, to questions and logical fallacies that made my mind freeze, my intellect and responses were constantly challenged, and my unsettled and insecure feeling only increased to the point that I felt stripped of what knowledge-related security I once thought I had.
I had a conversation about this feeling with my teacher one evening before class. David talked about how he stretches our intellect and responses intentionally by using hard questions and arguments as a way to show us, in a safe setting, how we ought to think thoughtfully. But one of the points he made that I doubt I will ever forget was , “You reach the point where all you have left to cling to is a blood-drenched cross…and you stand at the foot of that cross, and wrestle with the hard questions.”
As the conversation came to a close, I felt incredibly relieved. However, I’m not going to pretend this experience is over; I know that I’m just getting started. There is always more to consider, understand, and contemplate. But I also know that if I hadn’t had this experience, I wouldn’t know what I now know about what I don’t know.
Thank you, David.
Jan 12, 2010
Love that Reaches Beyond the Obvious
The speaker paused. The room was silent. A slight smirk stretched across his face. “You fired up yet?” he asked his audience a snarky tone. I shook my head slowly and looked at the floor. I turned and discreetly surveyed the reactions of my fellow audience members. Their eyes were filled with shock and rage at the story the speaker had told. I sat back in my seat. “This isn’t right,” I thought to myself.
The speaker continued to discuss the issues with governmental control over the public school system, and the evolutionary teachings present in the classrooms that were being taught as scientific fact. He enlightened us with the story of when he attempted to use original texts of founding documents in his history class, which landed him in court. He gracelessly demeaned our evolutionary opponents and their unscientific, improbable, and manipulative ideas about the origin and development of life.
I left disappointed. I sat in my room that evening, still uncomfortable with how the speaker had presented his position, and slightly angered at his subtle manipulation of an audience who was ready and willing to soak up his rhetoric. “There are people behind those comments,” I said to myself as I continued to think, “People who aren’t stupid, people who deserve respect, people who will never relinquish their opinion or position unless given the adequate opportunity.” It wasn't that I disagreed with his points. His points were valid, however, it was his attitude behind the points that was disapointing.
I have been pondering this a lot lately. Only in a debate setting, where your opponent is ready to receive harsh and critical attacks on their position is that type of approach justified. Debates benefit those who are open to believing both sides. However, in order to actually solve a problem, the roots must be address. Those roots are the active proponents of the opposite view, and opponents are not won in a debate setting.
If proponents of a view win people who already agree with them, what good do they do? The young and spunky speaker was addressing an audience filled with conservative Christian individuals who already agreed with him. His attitude and rhetoric were achieving his goal, but for what purpose? Logically, the purpose would be to prompt action. This conclusion leads to the next question. Did the speaker equip his listeners with the right attitude that will enable their action to reach the people behind the issue?
I would say no. As a Christian, if I were met by an evolutionist with an attitude who turns a cold shoulder or breathes flames of arrogant fire against the faith that I hold dear, I would not leave that encounter considering the fact that they could be right. Harsh criticism does not win my will, and in fact, subjecting an individual's perspective to that kind of fire will most likely leave them callously irritated, and even less receptive when another questioner arrives.
With each attack, each side becomes more resistant. So my question is… What if we didn’t attack? What if we didn’t use fire? If we do not embrace those with opposing views, how do we expect to influence them?
For me, the most beneficial and impactful changes to my perspective come from either someone coming alongside me and helping me understand, or, a conclusion that I reach thoughtfully. But having someone try and beat the perspective that I hold dear out of my grasp only makes me cling tighter.
If we want to win our opponents, it takes grace and an understanding of their position. Not only an understanding of their ideas, but also of why they hold those views. There is a reason they cling to that view. We ought to find out why.
It takes a love that reaches beyond the obvious. It requires a desire to understand that reaches beyond a desire to win. It requires a desire to extend grace that reaches beyond a desire to prove a point. And quite frankly, if we desire to understand and extend grace, we set ourselves up for an opponent to acknowledge our point, which is their first step in letting go.
The speaker continued to discuss the issues with governmental control over the public school system, and the evolutionary teachings present in the classrooms that were being taught as scientific fact. He enlightened us with the story of when he attempted to use original texts of founding documents in his history class, which landed him in court. He gracelessly demeaned our evolutionary opponents and their unscientific, improbable, and manipulative ideas about the origin and development of life.
I left disappointed. I sat in my room that evening, still uncomfortable with how the speaker had presented his position, and slightly angered at his subtle manipulation of an audience who was ready and willing to soak up his rhetoric. “There are people behind those comments,” I said to myself as I continued to think, “People who aren’t stupid, people who deserve respect, people who will never relinquish their opinion or position unless given the adequate opportunity.” It wasn't that I disagreed with his points. His points were valid, however, it was his attitude behind the points that was disapointing.
I have been pondering this a lot lately. Only in a debate setting, where your opponent is ready to receive harsh and critical attacks on their position is that type of approach justified. Debates benefit those who are open to believing both sides. However, in order to actually solve a problem, the roots must be address. Those roots are the active proponents of the opposite view, and opponents are not won in a debate setting.
If proponents of a view win people who already agree with them, what good do they do? The young and spunky speaker was addressing an audience filled with conservative Christian individuals who already agreed with him. His attitude and rhetoric were achieving his goal, but for what purpose? Logically, the purpose would be to prompt action. This conclusion leads to the next question. Did the speaker equip his listeners with the right attitude that will enable their action to reach the people behind the issue?
I would say no. As a Christian, if I were met by an evolutionist with an attitude who turns a cold shoulder or breathes flames of arrogant fire against the faith that I hold dear, I would not leave that encounter considering the fact that they could be right. Harsh criticism does not win my will, and in fact, subjecting an individual's perspective to that kind of fire will most likely leave them callously irritated, and even less receptive when another questioner arrives.
With each attack, each side becomes more resistant. So my question is… What if we didn’t attack? What if we didn’t use fire? If we do not embrace those with opposing views, how do we expect to influence them?
For me, the most beneficial and impactful changes to my perspective come from either someone coming alongside me and helping me understand, or, a conclusion that I reach thoughtfully. But having someone try and beat the perspective that I hold dear out of my grasp only makes me cling tighter.
If we want to win our opponents, it takes grace and an understanding of their position. Not only an understanding of their ideas, but also of why they hold those views. There is a reason they cling to that view. We ought to find out why.
It takes a love that reaches beyond the obvious. It requires a desire to understand that reaches beyond a desire to win. It requires a desire to extend grace that reaches beyond a desire to prove a point. And quite frankly, if we desire to understand and extend grace, we set ourselves up for an opponent to acknowledge our point, which is their first step in letting go.
If Houses could Talk...
Ainsworth House
I was driving my usual route towards home one evening, and I slowed down as I approached an old, but majestic home in the middle of a neighborhood close by our house. It's an old style, built in 1851 and owned by Captain Ainsworth. My love for that house never seems to diminish, and I always try and slow down to just to take another contemplative look as I drive past.
There have to be so many stories surrounding that house. All the people who set foot inside, all the events, and all the conversations that occured are hidden stories wrapped up within the walls of that quaint dwelling. I almost wish houses could talk; I could learn so much by just sitting and listening.
I drove on, thinking. So many times I had driven through that neighborhood. So many times I had merely seen the fresh cut lawns, the new paint job, the odd flag, or the Christmas lights that accented and decorated the outside for appearance's sake. But, what about the inside of the house? What about the people?
I continued on, and eventually arrived at home. Oh goodness... my home. There are so many memories, good times and hard times, tears of joy and hurt, laughter and giggles, deep conversations, and many lessons learned all encapsulated in the little place that I call "home".
Little do I think about the fact that all of the other houses in the city have stories like the ones that come to mind when I think about "home". When I drive past those houses, I ought to see more than the outward appearance, but rather, think about the people inside. They all have a life just like I do. They all have cares just like I do. They all have dreams just like I do. They all have beliefs, hopes, preferences, and values. And just driving by, it's so easy not to see.
I want to be someone who cares. Someone who pays attention and understands. Someone who loves another just because they are a person. I don't just want to drive by, but rather, seek to understand more than the obvious. To look deeper into the house, and see the people that live their lives day in and day out at the same time that I live mine. Oh... if houses could talk.
I was driving my usual route towards home one evening, and I slowed down as I approached an old, but majestic home in the middle of a neighborhood close by our house. It's an old style, built in 1851 and owned by Captain Ainsworth. My love for that house never seems to diminish, and I always try and slow down to just to take another contemplative look as I drive past.
There have to be so many stories surrounding that house. All the people who set foot inside, all the events, and all the conversations that occured are hidden stories wrapped up within the walls of that quaint dwelling. I almost wish houses could talk; I could learn so much by just sitting and listening.
I drove on, thinking. So many times I had driven through that neighborhood. So many times I had merely seen the fresh cut lawns, the new paint job, the odd flag, or the Christmas lights that accented and decorated the outside for appearance's sake. But, what about the inside of the house? What about the people?
I continued on, and eventually arrived at home. Oh goodness... my home. There are so many memories, good times and hard times, tears of joy and hurt, laughter and giggles, deep conversations, and many lessons learned all encapsulated in the little place that I call "home".
Little do I think about the fact that all of the other houses in the city have stories like the ones that come to mind when I think about "home". When I drive past those houses, I ought to see more than the outward appearance, but rather, think about the people inside. They all have a life just like I do. They all have cares just like I do. They all have dreams just like I do. They all have beliefs, hopes, preferences, and values. And just driving by, it's so easy not to see.
I want to be someone who cares. Someone who pays attention and understands. Someone who loves another just because they are a person. I don't just want to drive by, but rather, seek to understand more than the obvious. To look deeper into the house, and see the people that live their lives day in and day out at the same time that I live mine. Oh... if houses could talk.
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