The Mars Hill Controversies

Everyone knows about Mars Hill. Two possibilities come to mind.
1) Rob Bell. (And, subsequently, Love Wins.)
2) Mark Driscoll.

Now, I look up to both of these men in different ways.
Both push the envelope.
Both want to challenge the church to move forward, to keep thinking and chase after God. Now, the reception of these two men couldn’t be more varied. Some praise their work. Some declare them a heretic and an extreme fundamentalist.
While it would be interesting to discuss Bell and what he’s up to these days, I’m going to focus on the recent string of controversies that have been seeping out of the Northwest with the situation surrounding Driscoll’s Mars Hill.

I won’t say much more in this post. There’s much more to be read in what I’m about to post. As I would hope you always do, read the following with an impartial mind. Put aside your love/hate for Mars Hill and Mark Driscoll and read this story with fresh eyes.
I say this because it’s vital to our survival as a church in the West.

The main article is here: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/tonyjones/2012/03/22/mark-driscolls-house-of-cards/

Then, after you’ve read/scanned that, read some of this (Paul Petry’s blog): http://joyfulexiles.com/

But ultimately, this is what I want you to read: http://joyfulexiles.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/jonna-mhc-story-29.pdf

Jonna’s account starts at the bottom of that 2nd page I linked – the posted link is also found on that page.
It’s long (14 pages). But you should read it.
I have no reason to doubt the truth of her witness, especially given other recent “silence-breaking” accounts that have surfaced in the past 3-4 months.
To be fair, there could be embellishments/stretching of certain facts to develop the “victim” motif. But, if what she says is true, then we have a severe problem growing in our midst as the Body of Christ.

Redux: Will you be my Martyr – I mean, Valentine?

Oh, Valentine’s Day. What a strangely weird and wonderful day.

February 14th can elicit emotions of love, desire and excitement.
It can also be a day of promoting the singularities, the individuals and the angst of several million people, decrying the evils of Hallmarkian holidays.

The first riot outside the Hallmark headquarters, circa 1513.

But what do we know about the origins of this holiday?
Sure, Hallmark executives have several houses in Aruba because of this “holiday,” but where did we get this day of love?
From a martyr. That’s touching.

Valentine’s Day is most accurately attributed to a particular saint who was martyred.
The exact saint is a bit harder to narrow down.
Doing some research, three blips on the radar pop up:
1) Valentine of Rome
2) Valentine of Terni
3) Some random Valentine who might have died in Africa (but nothing else is known about him).

Most of this is irrelevant, however, as by the 14th century, the distinction between Valentine of Rome and Valentine of Terni was probably lost. In their original context, there were no romantic elements associated with the Valentines.

He was definitely popular with the ladies.

We don’t actually know how he (they?) died. Just that they were martyrs.
For the sake of subject-verb agreement, I’ll only talk about one Valentine from here on out.
Valentine has some fun legends associated with his death, though.
The best one is this:

“The Early Medieval acta of either Saint Valentine were expounded briefly in Legenda Aurea. According to that version, St. Valentine was persecuted as a Christian and interrogated by Roman Emperor Claudius II in person. Claudius was impressed by Valentine and had a discussion with him, attempting to get him to convert to Roman paganism in order to save his life. Valentine refused and tried to convert Claudius to Christianity instead. Because of this, he was executed. Before his execution, he is reported to have performed a miracle by healing the blind daughter of his jailer.”

What a guy. He tried to convert the emperor to Christianity and BOOM! Instamartyr.

“What’d you do?” “I tried to convert the Emperor to Christianity.” “Classic Valentine.”

He didn’t even get a church named after him.
It gets better: in 496 AD, Pope Gelasius I establishes the day on the General Roman Calendar as “Valentine’s Day,” a day of remembrance for the martyred saint. But then in 1969 Pope Paul VI removes it from the calendar.
Why? “Though the memorial of Saint Valentine is ancient, it is left to particular calendars, since, apart from his name, nothing is known of Saint Valentine except that he was buried on the Via Flaminia on February 14.”

Enter Geoffrey Chaucer.
If it weren’t for him, Valentine’s Day would have remained a feast on the Roman calendar, with no hearts or chocolate or candy or cards or perfume or anything like that.
Chaucer was a poet (and he know’d it). His first work to feature a reference to “Valentine” was Parlement of Foules (1382):

For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.

Stirring, isn’t it? If you can read it. (Here’s the translation for those who can’t quite make sense of it: “For this was Saint Valentine’s Day, when every bird cometh there to choose his mate.”)
Here’s the thing that floors me – readers have made uninformed assumptions that “Volantynys day” refers to February 14th. However, if you actually read the text, this is probably untrue. What birds do you know find their mates in mid-February?
“Henry Ansgar Kelly has pointed out that Chaucer could be referring to May 2, the celebration in the liturgical calendar of Valentine of Genoa, an early bishop of Genoa who died around AD 307.” (Kelly, Henry Ansgar, Chaucer and the Cult of Saint Valentine [Brill Academic Publishers, 1997])

By the High Middle Ages (11th-13th centuries) and even as late as the 1700s, Valentine’s Day had become part of the “courtly love” tradition, picked up by such names as John Donne and William Shakespeare (in Hamlet when Ophelia says “To-morrow is Saint Valentine’s day…”).
From there, we catapult to late 19th century where we see the advent of handwritten “valentines” which were given to people as presents and mementos of love.
And then there’s Hallmark. I think you can pick it up from there.

Why did I tell you all this?
Am I trying to ruin your day of love and affection?
No. Well, maybe.
Wait. No. My wife is probably reading this so I officially have to say “No.”

I tell you this because this holiday is based on a guy who was martyred for some unknown reason, canonized by the Roman Catholic Church into a saint, and then picked up by (with somewhat wrongful assumption) by readers of Chaucer, who then paved the way for the 15th century courtly love tradition, which then gave way to modern holidays, consumerism and mass chocolate production.

So, Happy Valentine’s Day!

Grammarians of the World, Unite!

Language is a dynamic expression of an organism.
It “can be defined as verbal, physical, biologically innate, and a basic form of communication.”
In short, it is how we live. If we didn’t communicate, we would probably cease to live.
Sure, we could live for a while. You can manage to bring down wild game without speaking or even coordinating with someone else.
But our society – our wold – cannot function without communication.
Of the brothers and sisters of language, we in the West are children of Potentate English – ruthless and domineering.
Yet this titan has a weakness: its speakers.
Particular emphasis on the Internet.
Almost complete emphasis on the Internet.
Actually, let’s just blame the Internet.

This is all your fault.

Internet and texting are the floodwaters that have begun to erode away the foundations of our already convoluted language.
Like the bursting of a dam, the increase of technology (coupled with the horrendously low reading capability of people in general) has produced something of epic proportions: the exile of grammar.
We live in an age where correction to language is seen as “nazi-ish” or “pointless.”
Pointless?
Grammar is pointless?

Grammar saves lives.
Doubt me? Think again.

Proof that commas do something.

We need to do away with the notion that grammar is “stupid” or “pointless.”
Difficulty does not mean we should shy away from trying; with regard to language, we should strive our best to communicate well.

Now, I don’t mean that you should completely reform your speaking/writing.
I have many bad practices that are tolerable at even the academic level.
What I’m talking about are basic rules that help everyone understand what you really mean.

Let’s go through some examples.

Your/You’re: Not hard. Not hard at all. “Your” is possessive. “Your grammar is worse than Justin Bieber’s music.”
“You’re” is a contraction, meaning two words have been combined via the almighty apostrophe. “You’re too lazy to use spell check.”

There/Their/They’re:
“There” is a child with many parents (at this stage of English). Commonly, it is used as a (bad) way to begin sentences. Traditionally, its function is locative, telling us where something (or someone is). “I think you dropped your brain over there.”
“Their” is a brother to “your,” meaning its possessive in usage, differing in person and number. “Their grammar was so bad that they were kicked out of school.”
“They’re” is a contraction. “They’re listening to dubstep. Yeah, I don’t understand it, either.”

Words like “truely” or “dyeing”:
What should be spelled as “truly” or “dying” often find themselves with an extra vowel. It’s typically one that was present prior to converting the word to an adverb/participle/whatever. In the case of “dyeing,” we have the problem of confusing two actual words.
You are not “dyeing” if you are drowning.
Consequently, you also are not “dying” your shirt blue. If you are, I’m turning you in for cilicide (“shirt killing”).

Duck/Duct Tape:
This is a simple mishearing that’s snowballed over time into a full blown brandname for what was once called “duct” tape.
Also, to be fair to our lazy speakers, “duct” (pronounced correctly) takes far, far more effort say than just a simple “-ck” sound. While we’re on the lazy train, we should let on the naïve people, too. Some people might not know what a “duct” is.
If this you, this isn’t a dig against you personally. I’m just highlighting the fact that languages do weird, funky things through time. Go, go humanistic dynamism!
I’ve never seen “Duck” tape, but I imagine there’s a use for it.

Why am I surprised?

Irregardless:
Negative form of “regardless.”
Yet “regardless” is already negating what was just written/spoken/posited. “Regardless of what you think, I’m far more more awesome than Justin Bieber.”
It does not make sense to add a negative prefix “i-” to make it more negative.
In fact, a double negative is a positive. That means “irregardless” is the opposite of “regardless.”

There are many, many more I could go through. But you’re bored. I can tell.
So, I’ll end it here. (But I’ll add some if I find particularly funny errors.)

Well, one last one.
Do not end a sentence with a preposition. Just don’t do it. Ever.

Ever.

Linguistic Musing: Zachariah!

Haven’t had many linguistic musing posts lately, so I thought I’d post something about me. (Not egotistical at all.)

Learning Hebrew has (rightly) made me return to words I accepted as “true” in meaning to rediscover if my first sense was accurate.
One of these has been my own name.
My name – Zachary – is a modern Hebrew-to-English version of the name “Zachariah” (which appeared probably in the late 13th century) which then is a version of “Zechariah” (which preceded the Zach- form slightly). Yet all of these are still within English; we need to go back to the Hebrew to find the actual name.

זְכַרְיָה is the script for Zechariah.
It is more accurately transliterated as “Zakaryah.” (Which is a pretty cool spelling if you ask me.)

I bet his name is also “Zakaryah.”

What we have here are two words in Hebrew: “Zakar” and “Yah.”
“Zakar” is a fairly simple verb in Hebrew. In the Qal/Pa’al (simple, active action), it means “remember, to remember, bring to memory, surely remember” and so on for another 10 definitions.
“Yah” is actually a shortened term for היה (“Ha’yah,” the verb of being in Hebrew) and יהוה (Tetragrammtron – YHWH, “LORD” or “Adonai” ['Lord']). In a sense, it signifies God’s name/presence.
When combined, it does mean “God Remembers” as so many Christian Bookstores engrave on small signs.
But something that had never struck me before is that a shard of God’s name is in mine.

Part of God’s name has been given to me.
I am NOT ascribing divinity to myself.
But the fact that my name has part of God’s name within my own is significant.
It is significant because God, in some way, has called me.
God has placed part of his name onto my own.

I am Zakaryah, and God has remembered me.

“Bleak.”

“But why do we have to leave?”
The air was brisk and crackled with the shuffling of hundreds of feet.
Suitcase handles jostled as they were carried back and forth, from house to the station platform.
The bustle was enormously loud.
And pensive.
“Momma, why do we have to leave?” the little girl reiterated.
The mother sighed, put her blouse on the bed beside the open suitcase and knelt down next to her daughter.
“My dear, we are going away. We don’t know why, but we are told that we are needed somewhere else.” She brushed back the dark brown bangs that dangled in front of Ruth’s eyes. The little girl smiled.
Rachel returned to her standing position and continued packing.
Ruth skipped to the front door of their apartment, clutching her doll as she watched the great procession go forth.
Why do so many people need to leave?

“All aboard! Come on, now, we need to get going! Train leaves in 15 minutes!” shouted a man in official garb.
Worried expressions could not be lifted from the faces that tried to smile. The smoke from the engine of the train billowed into the bleak December sky, hanging there for almost too long.
Reuben tugged at his father’s coat, eyes fixed on the eerie smoke that clung to the clouds.
“Father, why are we leaving?”
Caleb handed his suitcase to the attendant and turned to his son.
“We are called to leave, my son. And in this time for us, we do not have an option. We must leave.”
“But where are we going?”
Caleb shrugged. “They are not saying. I heard from someone else that we’re being ‘resettled.’ Some of may work on farms. Some of us in factories. All I know is that we’re leaving this place.”
Reuben detected uncertainty in his father’s quavering voice.
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
Caleb, instinctively sensing the internal dialogue, ruffled the boy’s hair. “We will be fine. I have a feeling.”
Reuben was not so sure.

“All aboard! Time to leave!”
The train churned forward, heaving and chugging forward, sputtering out smoke as if coughing.
No one spoke much on the train. Families talked in hushed tones, eyes darting about. Some slept. Others stared out the window.
“Momma?”
“Yes, sweet?”
“Do you think we’re being taken to the same place they took Oma?”
Rachel’s soul stung.
“No, we are not going to where they took Oma, Ruth.”
Ruth grew quiet. “But what if we are?”
Moments passed. Neither said anything in response.
“We’re not going there, dear. Now, get some rest.”

The train stopped in a small town later that day.
The passengers filtered out and walked around the station for a couple of hours.
The sky was even bleaker here.
It was if one cloud stretched over the entire sky. Reuben looked hard to find any detail of any clouds at all.
He used to love to watch the clouds.
Used to.
His wandering eye caught something down the platform from him.
“That looks like the conductor,” he thought aloud.
He told his father he was going to go walk down the platform to stretch his legs. “Don’t stay down there too long, son. We’ll be leaving soon.”
Reuben weaved his way through the crowd of people, mostly from his neighborhood. Why did so many people have to leave at once? he thought. After what seemed like hours, he finally drew close to the conductor. He was standing alone, facing away from the people.
Reuben carefully approached the man and tapped his arm.
The man spun around, surprising Reuben.
“Oh – you startled me, lad.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Are you the conductor?”
“I am.”
“May I ask a question?”
“Proceed.”
“Where are we going?”
The man’s eyes stared deeply into Reuben’s dark brown eyes.
Then they fell to the ground. Turning away from the boy, he said, “Somewhere to the east of here.”
“Oh,” replied Reuben. “Do you know why were forced to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, then, you know what we’ll be doing once we get there!” exclaimed Reuben.
The man stiffened. “Yes, you’ll be farmers. Farming the land for the good of all the people.”
Reuben smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
The man continued to face away from Reuben, away from the people.
“Go on back to your father, lad. Best not to be alone.”

The days passed and the train neared its destination.
Daylight was always bleak, it seemed.
Rachel couldn’t remember the last time she saw blue sky.
She wondered if the sky had forgotten how to be blue.
Or perhaps the sun had forgotten how to shine.
“Just like everyone else,” she muttered.
The train’s whistle blew.
People in the cars straightened up, straining to see what destination they approached.
Caleb looked out the window and saw their destination.
His face drained of color.
Those gates.
Those factories.
Those walls.
“We’re not going to be farmers…”
German troops could be seen waiting at the station.
Dread began sweeping over the train.
Rachel heard the commotion and looked to see what was happening.
Dear God, no! she silently cried.
“Momma, what’s wrong?” Ruth whimpered.
Rachel grabbed her child and held her close, humming a lullaby while rocking back and forth.

“Engineer, stop this train!” barked the S.S. Officer.
The man remained silent.
“If you do not stop now, I will be forced to execute you for treason!”
The engineer only stared ahead.
“Sir! Stop this train now! These animals need to be purged!”
Without warning, the engineer reached down, grabbed his pistol and shot the man between the eyes.
He rose from his seat, pushed the body to the side, and locked the cabin door.
He returned to his seat and increased the speed of the train.
Shouting could be heard warbling past the train as German troops shouted profanities at the Jews onboard.
A series of peculiar knocks came from the door.
The engineer opened it. In stepped another man, dressed like the conductor.
“Ewan, did you take care of the other SS men?”
“I did, Jacob.”
“Good. I heard from my contacts. We’ll be in St. Petersburg in a few days.”
Ewan glanced out the window.
“Do you think we’ll make it?”
Jacob shrugged. “Even if we don’t, it’s better than letting all these people die at the hands of those demons.”

Rachel was in shock.
Caleb cried.
Ruth clung to her mother.
Reuben smiled.
“We must be going to Russia, then,” stammered Caleb.
“Momma, where are we going?” Ruth inquired.
“I don’t know. But I know that God must have sent an angel to be our conductor.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Rachel kissed her daughter’s head.

The train barreled into the night sky, chugging through the snowy wilderness.
The next morning, a blue sky was ready to greet the passengers.
The sun had not forgotten.

Unfair.

“What do you mean, ‘this is it’?”
Rain smashed against their faces as they stood in the middle of an intersection.
The illuminated bank sign behind them read 2:32AM.
“This is it. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore,” he said.
“But – but that’s not fair. You never gave me a chance.”
He tilted his head and suppressed the bit of rage that tried to escape his throat.

“‘Not fair’? How is it unfair? I tried for months – years, even – and you have still refused. You still chased after what you wanted to while you forgot about me.”
She moved to touch his arm, but he vehemently jerked away and walked toward the glowing screen that now read 2:34AM.
“What was so difficult about me?” he pressed.
She looked away, biting her lip – trying to ignore his question.
“It wasn’t like I asked you for the world. I just wanted to be your friend. And we were friends! Were. We were friends. But you made the decision.”

She stormed over to him and shoved him.
“Stop it! You’re being completely unfair! You don’t even know my side of the story. It’s not like I was the center of your universe. Nothing you have said is a basis for indicting me! Look – my life became busy and, well, our interests shifted.”
He shot her a look. “You mean my ‘interest’ in Christianity and your commitment to Atheism.” Once again, her eyes fell to the ground.
“Admit it – that’s what it was. We finally grew up and you realized that I was the fox and you were the hound. What about our conversations? What about the fact that we had one of the best friendships I’ve ever had? Just because we believe different things doesn’t mean we have to stop being friends.”
“That’s not it…”
“THEN WHAT IS IT? This is ridiculous. We’re close friends for years and now you treat me like some Facebook stalker. I know time and space separate us but I’ve kept in contact with other people whom I consider less close. I mean, they kept in contact with me.”

He stared at her face.
She stared at the ground.
He let his eyes also fall to the ground.

“That’s it, then. Silence. That’s my answer. All that. All of that for silence.”

The sign read 2:42AM, and the only sounds that could be heard were the rain, the wind and two sets of footsteps moving in opposite directions.

How can the Unmoved Mover be moved by something?

Israel certainly conceived of God as a stable force. God, the one who was before all things, created “the heavens and the earth.” God is the very being by whom all things have their being by his word (based on the prayer). However, there isn’t any indication that Israelites were children of the Enlightenment. The concept of immutability/unchangeableness would probably have been much different to an Israelite man or woman than for someone today in modern America. For example, in the West, upon meeting someone, one of the very first questions out of our mouths is: “So, what do you do?” or “Where do you work?” In the East, the first question is: “Who is your father?” or “What family do you come from?” Between our two cultural brains, we have entirely different means of discerning status. Though they’re not checking to see if God has always been a factory worker, Israel has always seen God as the God of the forefathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. God has – and always will – be the God of his people. He’s a covenantal God. It’s part of God’s immutability, to be sure. God will never “change” in this way.

Throughout Genesis 1-11, it’s quite clear that God is a God who responds. God certainly is with the divine council, deliberating over each action he does (“Let us make man…”, “Let us go down…”). Deliberation includes consideration, and consideration includes weighing actions and suggestions. While we in the West are hesitant to acknowledge God’s divine council, I believe that the Israelites would have seen God as one who considers prayers, sacrifices, and other factors before ordering and acting.

Doing a quick search of the (English) Bible, the word “immutable” does not exist in the English version of the Bible (nor does “immutability”). The word “change,” however, does occur in Scripture (in English). The very first instance we have “God” and “change” in the same sentence is in Exodus 32.12 when Moses is giving his plea to not destroy the newly minted people of God. The two verses later we find the following: “And the LORD changed his mind…” I understand that this can mean more than just “change.” The word is נָחַם (“nacham”) which can mean: “to be sorry, console oneself, repent, regret, comfort, be comforted.” It’s a niphal, and specifically here, God is repenting (“feeling sorrow”) of the action he was about to do. Now, the idea of God “repenting” clashes with our notion of repentance, so most feel more comfortable with the idea of “changing” (which is not outside the range of meaning). But even so, God had said he was going to do something, and if it was part of God’s plan to destroy his people – did he change the plan? Is there a plan at all? It would seem that God does have a plan and method for bringing his people to salvation, but that doesn’t mean that God cannot change. I think it’s telling that the first instance of “change” regarding God is not about God’s unchangeableness but rather the dynamic and “changeable” nature of a God who hears the pleas, a God who hears the cries of Moses (and of his people in Egypt), considers it and “repents” or “changes.” Now, this raises many issues about the nature of God and the true character of God, but it’s something that Israel was comfortable with and it’s something that we have to deal with. It’s in our Bible – we have to figure out what we know (and don’t know) about God’s changeableness. In direct contrast, we have Numbers 23.19 – “God is not a human being, that he should lie, or a mortal, that he should change his mind. Has he promised, and will he not do it? Has he spoken, and will he not fulfill it?” The word for “change” here is also נָחַם . Here, God is being contrasted with a human (“mortal”), and we have to decide one of two things: Either Num. 23 trumps Ex. 32 and God does not change his mind; or God does not change his mind like people change their mind. Though the latter is no less confusing, it does present a different approach to the contradictory explanation of the former. 1 Samuel 15.29 weighs in with Numbers: “Moreover the Glory of Israel will not recant or change his mind; for he is not a mortal, that he should change his mind.” Same verb again and a similar construction relating to a “mortal.” In Jeremiah and Jonah, we have the repeated theme of God “intending” to bring destruction to places, but with the caveat that God may change God’s mind about the disaster should they repent.

It may be helpful to consider what “repentance” and “change” meant to the rabbis, for example.

“Rabbinic Jewish literature contains extensive discussions on the subject of repentance. Many rabbinic sources state that repentance is of paramount importance to the existence of this world, so that it was one of the seven provisions which God made before the Creation (Talmud Bavli, tractates Pesahim 54a; Nedarim 39b; Midrash Genesis Rabbah 1). “The Holy One, blessed be His name, said to Elijah, ‘Behold, the precious gift which I have bestowed on my world: though a man sins again and again, but returns in penitence, I will receive him’” (Jerusalem Talmud Sanhedrin 28b). “Great is repentance: it brings healing into the world”; “it reaches to the throne of God” (Hosea 14:2, 5); “it brings redemption” (Isiah 59:20); “it prolongs man’s life” (Ezekiel 18:21; Talmud Yoma 86a). “Repentance and works of charity are man’s intercessors before God’s throne” (Talmud Shabbath 32a). Sincere repentance is equivalent to the rebuilding of the Temple, the restoration of the altar, and the offering of all the sacrifices.[8]”

Could it be that God’s “sorrow” (contrasted with שוב “shuv” ['return, repent']) brings about life/healing/restoration? The law of God has boundaries, but God is a God of grace. The person of Jesus Christ came to fulfill the law so that we can meet the requirements of the law. The law does not change and the law does not move. In the same way, God’s character and God’s holiness do not change. In fact, by changing God’s mind, could it be that God is more true to his character of grace and love than if he had brought all the disaster that he had “intended to bring” on his people? Critics of the OT claim that the God here is only a God of wrath. Exodus, Jeremiah, and Jonah all speak against this, saying that God does not just bring wrath, but is capable of compassion in the face of sin that could be punished (and, under law, should be punished).

By no means is this a complete work.
It’s part of what I’m studying in a class here, and for the most part, I’ve found this work to be wonderful.
To challenge tradition is never easy, but as I begin to study Scripture more and more, I’m growing in skepticism in the ways that Greek philosophy has influenced how we read Scripture.
The Christian God was quite synonymous with the “Unmovable Mover” (or the “First Mover”) in Aristotelian thought, so it wasn’t a stretch for early Christians (who were products of the schools of rhetoric) to embrace God as “immutable” and the “unmoved mover.” The problem with this designation of God’s character is that it hinders his capacity to love.
If God does not change ever, then his plan is set and he will not turn from it.
The Hebrew word נָחַם is all about “feeling sorrow” and “repenting” and “regretting.” We cannot fully reconcile both Greek and Hebrew conceptualizations of God because, in some ways, they are incompatible.
I am not suggesting that God’s character changes.
I am suggesting that we read Scripture more closely to what Scripture says, and acknowledge that our God can have a plan of salvation and a code of law and holiness. He can demand justice and yet still exercise grace, compassion and love because the God of Israel is a God who hears the cries of the oppressed and is faithful to his people of all generations.

TftD: Children and the Church

In a class this morning, I heard this quote:

“We need to stop saying that ‘children are the future of the Church.’ That’s wrong. Children ARE the Church just as much as we and the elderly are the Church. They never ‘become the Church’ – they already are.” – Gary D.K.

A subtle but necessary change in language.
A subtle but necessary change in thought.

How would the Church change if we began to treat children as active, contributing members rather than people who, at some point, finally become part of the Church?

Linguistic Musing: Parent vs. Guardian.

Think back. For some of you, way back.
Think back to when you were in elementary/primary school.
Can you recall the letters that went home with you?
What did the letter start with?

“Dear Parent/Guardian…”
For the longest time, I never thought much about it. For some children, they have biological parents – the very people who physically brought them into the world. For others, they had guardians: grandparents, uncles and aunts, foster parents, etc.
On the surface, these two terms seems quite different. And they are. Somewhat.

The term “guardian” is a noun (of course), but its root is “guard.”
“Guard” is an early 15th century word, taken from the Middle French (French that was spoken circa 1400-1600 BCE) noun garde, “guardian, warden, keeper; watching, keeping, custody.” And this word has its root in the Old French verb (~900-1400 BCE) garder, “to keep, maintain, perserve, protect.”

Now, THAT’S a guardian.

The term “parent” is less exciting, but I’ll cover it, anyway.
“Parent” is from Old French (11th century) parent, which is actually from Latin nominative parens, “father or mother, ancestor.” Also, the word parere (prepositional usage) means “bring forth, give birth to, produce.”
Fun facts: The term elder was the native word for “parent” until the 1500s. And even more interesting, the verb form of “parent” wasn’t actually attested to until the 1660s. The noun “parenting” wouldn’t surface until 1959! (“parentcraft” was the precursor to “parenting” [1930]).

So, why did I drag you through French and Latin? Because it’s remarkable how we add to the evolution of language.
The word “parent” means nothing more than producing a child whom you happen to mother or father.
The word “guardian” actually encompasses more of what we ascribe to the word “parent.”

For those of you who are parents, do you see yourself as a guardian?
You should. (Especially the custodial aspect.)
Parents need to become guardians of their children again.
“Guardian” need not have a legal, non-parental connotation.

Our world would benefit greatly if we all saw our children as people whom we have produced AND have the task of guarding, protecting, and keeping watch over.
Our families would be healthier.

 

Our children need protectors.
I am honored to be the guardian of Zoë Anastasia Poppen, and I will protect her with my life.

Looking for Death in all the Wrong Places

Fact: Smoking can kill you.
Fact: Cancer can kill you.

Fact: Apathy will kill you.

Of all the things that have the potential to end our lives, none are so vicious as the disease of apathy.
No other force has allowed as much evil to persist.
No other curse has prevented so much good.
No other weapon can strike with as much power.

Apathy is deadly.
There is no question on whether or not it will kill you; the only question is how long it takes to do so.

Scripture is littered with references.
The voice of Christ speaking to the Church in Laodicea, saying that he wished they were either hot or cold, but since they are neither [lukewarm], he was about to spit them out of his mouth.

Jesus taught that it’s not what goes into a person that defiles them, but what comes out of them.

Not to mention the many kings of Israel and Judah who allowed foreign gods and altars to run their lands.
Who encouraged turning away from the LORD.

On Monday, Dr. Tom Boogaart said something that startled me.

“If the words are supposed to be in our heart, and the Spirit works within our heart – what if the Spirit gets to our heart and doesn’t have anything to work with?”

Another professor, Travis West, has adopted a new term for “memorization”: learn by heart.

For some reason, Dr. Boogaart’s question terrified me in a way that an angry German Shepherd would terrify a 2-year-old. His words frightened me because they exposed a deep cavity within myself.
I have portions of Scripture memorized, err, “learned by heart” – but there are so many more that I could have.
That I should have.
I lack the life I could have. And in place of that life is only death.

I have to ask myself (and by proxy, all of you) these questions: What do I put into myself?
Does it bring life to others? Or death?
Will it bring me life?

And perhaps the scariest question of all: if it brings me life, is this a kind of life that will endure?

The answer is “No.” A resounding, deafening, cruel, empty and raspy “No.”
My life is not filled with life.
I seek objects of death. I seek to fill things that make me feel good, make my life easier, and to take my gaze away from the problems of the world.
My heart is a battlefield, and I’m losing ground.

The Spirit is our advocate – the run who runs with us.
His job is to remind us of the things we’ve read.
The things we’ve learned. The things we need for life.
Remind. He’s here to remind us (among a myriad of other things).
What can the Spirit remind us of if we willingly refuse to put things in our hearts?
Any person can memorize. Anyone can remember something.

How many movies can we quote?
How many songs can we sing without even thinking?
How many “quotable sayings” have we locked into our brains and hearts?
Yet we hardly know anything from Scripture.
We fumble through Google to find the keyword of a passage that we think might pertain to what we’re trying to say.

Our problem is apathy. Our problem is a lack of effort.
We don’t want to try because “it’s hard.”
Because it’s not practical.
Because it’s inconvenient.

We are living a half-life, and we’re responsible.

But it doesn’t have to end this way.
Death never has the last word.
This isn’t over.
We are not enslaved if we give our allegiance to another.
The shackles of apathy do not bind us if we’re covered in the blood of another.
Jesus came to give us life, and if you chase after him, you will find it.

I have found the cure to this sickness, and I’m reading Scripture with a new hunger again.
I will not let this curse destroy me.

Don’t let it destroy you, either.