Advent: Aligned With the Humble

          And Mary said: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me—holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation. He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.”  (Luke 1:46-53)

            After receiving the news that she will give birth to the Savior of the world (How would you like to get that message to start off your day?), Mary launches into a prayer of praise to God. She speaks about the “great things” that God has done…and then she finally says these words: “He has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.” Why these words? Why is this part of God’s message through Mary?

            Perhaps because this would be part of Jesus’ mission: He would align himself with the people on the margins, those who are on the edges of society. The oppressed. The downtrodden. Those who recognize their desperate situations and their need of grace. As for the proud and arrogant, or the ones who revel in their power and are seemingly secure in their own ability? They’re headed for a hard swan dive downward!

            We see evidence of God siding with the humble and downtrodden throughout history, and it is especially noteworthy when it occurs around Christmastime. During the late 1980s, a Romanian pastor named Laszlo Tokes  (pronounced TOKE-ess) began speaking out against the nation’s Communist ruler Nicolae Ceausescu (pronounced chow-CHESS-koo). Tokes was imprisoned and tortured, and the people of Romania became outraged over this injustice. During Advent of 1989, Tokes had been released and was back home, preparing for his Christmas sermon. Locking himself in his house, Tokes read through the Christmas stories of Matthew and Luke. On Christmas Eve, Tokes ascended the pulpit in his church and, unlike most pastors who would preach that day, he preached on the story of King Herod’s slaughter of the boys of Bethlehem. It was the one passage that spoke most directly to his congregation. They understood oppression, fear, violence, and life as the desperate underdog. Tokes told them that with Jesus on the scene, they had One who was aligned with them.

            The next day, Christmas, news broke out all over Romania that Ceausescu had been arrested. For the first time in forty years, Romania celebrated Christmas as a public holiday. Church bells pealed across the nation about as loudly as the joy erupting from people who tasted freedom for the first time in years. A new King Herod, Ceausescu, who had wiped out thousands of his own people, had fallen by the hand of God. Tokes said, “All the events of the Christmas story now had a new, brilliant dimension for us, [one] rooted in the reality of our lives…a time when the providence of God and the foolishness of human wickedness seemed as easy to comprehend as the sun and her moon over the timeless Transylvanian hills.”[1]

            If you are overwhelmed by life, by others, or if you find yourself barely hanging on to the margins, then the good news of Christmas is that you have an Advocate who’s arrived: Jesus. And if you have been too secure in your own ability or pride, then Christmas means Someone has arrived who can and will shake up your world. So whether you require defending or challenge, Jesus has arrived and he loves you too much to leave you alone.

---

[1] Laszlo Tokes, The Fall of Tyrants (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1990), 186.

Moving the Goalposts of Life

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light of revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory for your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29-32)

            The message above was originally spoken by the righteous and elderly man Simeon in the temple in Jerusalem. His desire was to see Jesus himself, for he had been told that death would not come until he had seen the Messiah. Finally he does so, and his reaction is that now he can depart in peace. Death is not something to be dreaded, but rather it is an event that leads to the joy and hope believers can enjoy.

            One side-effect of Jesus’ arrival--and a theme of the Advent season, as it is at Easter--is this certainty that the goalposts of the game of life have moved. Death is not something to be feared. Now we have a Messiah who will definitively and finally deal with sin, rebellion, guilt, and death with his sacrifice. Because Jesus makes this way available to us, we don’t need to fear death. It is not an end point; it is the gate to further, more abundant life forever with God.

            One of the hallmarks of Christmastime is the resurgence of Christmas plays at churches and schools. Some time ago, Franklin Classical School, located outside of Nashville, Tennessee, held a Christmas play involving much of the upper school. One student in particular greatly enjoyed his role in the play, that of a neighborly farmer who loved Christmas and loved to talk. That student was a young man named Andy Tant. A sixteen-year old young man with a vibrant faith, Andy worked hard in all areas of school, but he showed a special talent for acting. And toward the end of the performance, his final line resonated throughout the auditorium: “I believe this is going to be the best Christmas ever!”

            It was the next day—December 8, 1996…exactly seventeen years ago today—that Andy told his mother he was taking the car and heading off to church and would see her there later. On the way, Andy’s medication that he had taken earlier made him extremely drowsy, and he fell asleep at the wheel as he approached church. He was hit broadside by another car, and even the air bag deployment could not prevent massive internal injuries. Word came to the church, and Andy’s father Mike, about the wreck. Andy was taken to Vanderbilt Hospital, where his unconscious body held on for several hours while his father and several church leaders prayed nearby. Finally, as Mike closed out a prayer and held Andy’s hand, the young actor quietly exhaled his last breath, and God took him home.

            I still remember late that night when my best friend, Phil Covington, who was Andy's brother-in-law, called me with the news of Andy's death. Andy was someone I had befriended through my relationship with Phil, his wife Jennifer, and the entire Tant family, so this was a moment of deep, abject sadness for me.

            As sad as the Tant family felt and still feel over losing their son and brother, they continue to take great comfort in the reality that because Jesus had come to earth, lived, died, and rose again, he had transformed what life was about. They could take hope in the fact that Andy’s death—while sooner than they expected—was not the end of his life, but the gate to eternal enjoyment. (I'd like to think that when our Jordan left us, the first person he met in heaven was Andy.)

            Andy had been right: It would be the best Christmas ever. It would be so because Jesus’ invasion into our world would move the goalposts of life. It would be so because Jesus’ death meant our death would not have the final say. It was Andy’s best Christmas ever, and it continues to be so, for he celebrates it every day now. 

There Is No Divide

Back in August, at back-to-school-night, a parent struck up a conversation with me regarding my recently released novel, Litany of Secrets. He mentioned that he enjoyed my book--sincerely, I should add…I don't think he was angling for a better grade for his daughter in my Ethics class. There was one other thing he said that I found interesting; it was about my lead character, the wheelchair-bound, religiously-skeptical, swaggerishously agnostic detective Cameron Ballack.

Jim really liked where I took Ballack both in his actions within situations and reactions to various scenarios, and as the story grabbed him more and more within the seminary environment of St. Basil's, he began to root for Ballack to will himself to believe. But then as the story hurtled toward its conclusion, Jim said he had a change of heart. "It's like I was rooting for this to be a Christian story and for Ballack to embrace the Christian faith as like a victorious conclusion. But the further I went, the more I thought, 'No, I don't want that anymore. For him to embrace faith, in a way, would limit or ruin his character.' I believed that this was a good story and a great character on its own, and it didn't have to be a 'Christian' book."

That's a great compliment. I had no desire to make this series one that had a "Christian" label. I hold to the C.S. Lewis mantra that what the world need is not more Christian book, but more excellent literature written by Christians. Themes of faith, sacrifice, courage, love, redemption, human frailty and brokenness, and hope come up in my books, but I am not writing to lay out a theology of salvation or to promote a particular denominational slant. That would take the starch out of the story.

In my mind, there is no divide between "secular" and "spiritual" literature. Written communication is a gift of humanity from God, and I follow I Timothy 4:4-5 on this one: "For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, for it is made holy by the word of God with prayer." If you need additional commentary on this, Jon Foreman (lead singer of Switchfoot) pontificated at length, asking Did Lewis or Tolkien mention Christ in their songs? What activities are more spiritual? , as well as other pointed queries. The short article is well worth your time.

It's where I stand, for better or worse. Excellent stories are what count, and truth that shines through this excellence will eventually point people to the Reality behind it all.

Reading Reviews: True Word for Tough Times

It's been some time since I did a full-fledged book review here at Sacred Chaos, but today it's time to revisit that wondrous exercise. I do so with a disclaimer, for it will be rather awkward. Today's post delves into a smallish tome written to encourage people on their spiritual journeys. More to the point, it is written to challenge and give fresh courage to people who qualify themselves as followers of Jesus, and it's especially helpful and applicable to Christian leaders.

That is not what makes this review rather surreal. Instead, that has to do with the fact that the author of this brief work, True Word for Tough Times, is Dale Ralph Davis. That's right. Today, the son reviews the words of the father.

A few points of order: I don't do starred reviews (1 to 5 stars) but rather interact with the text itself. I find this more helpful. Also, as I grew up under my dad's preaching I think I have a decent sense for his speaking style and how it translates to the written word. That's not to say this will be non-critical. Also, keep in mind that this book stands within the stream of Dad's past excellent commentaries (esp. his stuff on the Old Testament historical books) and other works (like if you want to know how to preach from the Old Testament). It is a different book but it still comes with Dad's desire to get the meaning accurate and the communication clear and fresh.

The book is actually a selection of five messages Dad preached three years ago at the Evangelical Movement of Wales Conference in Aberystwyth. Covering the broad swath of the prophet Jeremiah's ministry, the teaching is meant--in Dad's words--to "supply a healthy corrective to some of the flippant and flimsy optimism we meet in certain 'Christian' propaganda about the Christian life and ministry." In short, life as a follower of Jesus can have some dynamic success, but then there are stretches where one believes that swimming in goat drool would feel like an upgrade.

Dad's messages tackle various facets that float to the top in Jeremiah's teaching and experience. There is the sufficiency and strength from the Word of God (Message 1 on Jeremiah 1); our complaints and God's pointed assurances (Message 2 on Jeremiah 15:10-21; God's sovereignty, truth, and providence (Message 3 on Jeremiah 27-29); what happens when people resist God's word (Message 4 on Jeremiah 37-39); and faithfulness even when it doesn't seem to matter (Message 5 on Jeremiah 40-45). Readers who are hoping for a comprehensive treatment of the book of Jeremiah will be disappointed, but that will be due to forgetting what Dad's aim would be. He never intended to attempt such a comprehensive task in such limited gulps.

The messages follow Dad's usual modus operandi of quality exposition, with stories and illustrations (the story of Christian Watt on pages 57-58 are alone worth the price of the book) that amplify the teaching of the text, followed by seasons of application that are quality "take-aways" from the ancient-yet-relevant message of Scripture. I would say that even if there are those who may disagree with Dad's emphases have to admit he's done a lot of study of the original Hebrew text to deliver it to the reader. At first, the reading might seem slightly choppy, as one might expect for sermons that are being transposed to written material (a process more difficult than we might imagine). I'll confess that the way I smoothed this out was to imagine--as I read--this was not a book but rather listening to Dad preach this in the pulpit. I was surprised at how this got rid of a lot of literary wrinkles.

As to specifics, here are some of the "best of" moments:

Pages 12-13, on the relentless of God's message: "In times of superficial religion...of hardened indifference...of weak compromise...in days of national disaster, the Word of God kept on coming. It is relentless; it is unstoppable; it simply keeps on coming, no matter what the climate seems to be, no matter what the circumstances are."

Page 34, dealing with Jeremiah's complaint that God seems like a deceitful brook and how we can step over a line at times with God: "I think we need to understand in the psycho-slanted age in which we live...that you can step out of line in your complaining to God. In a previous age we may have been overly cautioned about this; in our day we may not be cautioned enough...[I]f you question people like that they might say, 'But this is how I really feel.' Sometimes when you really feel that way, the best response is to keep quiet. In other word, anguish must not dissolve reverence, especially when you realize that it is still this God alone who gives you the very breath that you use to express your despair...So bemoan his mysteries. You have that freedom. Bemoan his mysteries, but do not assault his majesty. Do not deny his character. Do not step over that line."

Page 54, on not going off on some wild interpretation of the Bible: "Be very careful that you stick closely to the claims of Scripture and do not go beyond them. Sometimes the whole state of an individual depends on how reliable you are in communicating the truth of the Scripture."

Pages 82 and 92 of Jeremiah's final years and overall 'success' in life: "There may be times when you have to make a hard decision and when you opt to make the non-attractive choice for Christ's sake and that of others...Sometimes that is the decision we need to make, sacrificing  personal advantage and comfort and perhaps preference. There is a pattern to ponder here." "What is the use of a ministry like that? Well, among other things, does it not tell us...that service to Christ may prove continually agonizing and apparently fruitless?...Jeremiah's experience indicates that you have some situations in which you can serve Christ and meet nothing but hardship, trouble, anguish and frustration. If nothing else, seeing this may help correct the ministry-success syndrome that is so frequently beamed at us."

I could go on, but to get the full force, you really need to read the book. It's a well-constructed blend of pointing out realistic trials of life combined with God's faithfulness during those times. Personally, as I read it, it helped me make peace with some of the past moments when I felt like my time in ministry hadn't amounted to much, if anything at all.

Perhaps there could have been a capsule overview of the book of Jeremiah in the introduction, with bullet points of time and date of writing, major themes, and so on, for laypersons less familiar with the wild and wooly world of the Old Testament prophets like Jeremiah. Yet that is a minor issue with what--whether he's my Dad or not--is a magnificently helpful piece of work. If you need encouragement in life, several challenging reminders for the road ahead, or simply want to fresh look at God, True Word for Tough Times is a highly preferable tonic.

Many thanks, Dad. And those thanks extend well beyond this book.

Giving Thanks By Showing Up

Last night I took my son, Joshua, to a hockey game. It was the first one we'd been to together since December of 2001, and even then it was a late-night club-level collegiate game between Virginia and Duke at a Charlottesville rink. But last night we went several steps up. No, we didn't go to a St. Louis Blues game (not on our budget), but rather we headed to the Family Arena in St. Charles to watch the hometown St. Charles Chill battle the Tulsa Oilers. And we had the time of our lives.

The action was intense and scrappy, and even though it was the minor-level Central Hockey League and not the NHL, no one there cared. Back and forth the scoring went, and hometown hero Jordan Fox nearly won in for the Chill in regulation had not a wrist shot pinged off the goal post. But the 3-3 game went all the way into overtime, and when that didn't produce a tiebreaker, things went to a shootout, which the Oilers unfortunately won.

But we had a blast. We had great seats (center ice, first row of the upper bowl). The one thing that was a downer was that the listed attendance--for a 10,000 seat venue--was a mere 2,144. Now that's more than the Chill have been drawing, but it's given me a desire to send a letter to the paper imploring more people to turn up to these games. The Chill is an expansion team, new to the league, struggling in the Central Hockey League standings but working extremely hard, and the players are involved in a lot of visible community events. Is it so hard to plunk down five dollars per ticket (yes, you read that right...five dollars for general admission!) and encourage this team by your presence?

It took me back to my late high school years. My dad was the pastor of a small Presbyterian church in central Maryland. One Sunday he was going to be out of town, so he asked a friend in the church--who was finishing up seminary classes and was studying to become a pastor himself--to preach in his stead that Sunday. In the bulletin the week before his absence, Dad included an announcement that Jeff would be preaching and exhorted the congregation to make every effort to come "to hear the Word and to encourage the speaker" (emphasis mine).

The next week, Jeff preached to a church that was barely more than half its normal attendance. And trust me, those who were out weren't on family vacation or in the emergency room for a gall stone the size of Nunavut. I remember we were driving home from that service when Mom--clearly frustrated--said, "Dad is going to be incredibly disappointed! He said to hear the Word and to encourage the speaker!"

To be fair, that wasn't the normal modus operandi of that church. But sadly, very little of either hearing or encouraging happened that day.

Often, we show up to many things in life and expect to be spoon fed, entertained, or whatever. But the people or teams doing their job have put in a lot of work, and the presence of others can be a big "thank you" for their efforts. It goes beyond me hoping the Chill can double or triple their average home attendance. It means that there are people around you every day whose work tends to be the proverbial submerged amount of the iceberg. It doesn't show up publicly. The Chill practice hard. Jeff worked hard in preparing that sermon. But even today, we can show up in gratitude for others. Many people you know work hard in their job, on their special talents, and so on. Maybe an easy way to give thanks for them is to do so consistently: Show up and enjoy them and what they do, not to mention participate in their lives and activity. I would imagine such would be a great encouragement.

Give thanks by showing up. Obviously by showing up at Thanksgiving dinner today...but do so beyond this day.

Don't Let Bitterness Ruin Your Life

The Greek philosopher Aristotle once said that the aim of education is to make the pupil like and dislike what he ought. Another extension of that principle is that we should seek to take life as it is, better it where we can, and roll with the punches if and where we don't better it.

I'm worried that this idea is lost on a lot of folks today. As a private school teacher, I'm in the middle of Aristotle's great educational enterprise. What I've also found distressing over the years is the amount of increasing discontent and bitterness rising in the general population.

I don't think this is a simple "keeping up with the Joneses" mentality, although I wouldn't doubt there are some of those undercurrents afoot. Low-grade bitterness and discontent haven woven their way into the fabric of many souls I know.

Grades: A "C" used to be average. A "B", when I was in school, was evidence you'd done a good deal of work and understood the material at a high level. An "A" meant excellent proficiency. Now a number of my students beg me for extra credit so their final average can tick up from an A-minus to a full-blown A (note to all: I never give extra credit opportunities). Somewhere along the way people became dissatisfied with the evaluations they were getting. They bought into the lie that grades equal automatic success, or at least the opportunity for good college=good chances=good job=good life. Somewhere along the way, people started becoming more bitter about what they'd earned because they wanted--or felt more entitled to--more.

I've always enjoyed one scene of the movie School Ties because you get a proper whiff of contentment and proper perspective. Brendan Fraser and Matt Damon--students at the fictional St. Matthew's School--are reflecting on the mental breakdown of a classmate whose poor French grade might prevent him from getting into an Ivy League school. Damon even mentions that years ago, another student didn't get into the university of his choice and killed himself. Fraser, incredulous, says, "I sure want to get into Harvard, but I'll be damned if I kill myself if I don't."

Damon looks at Fraser and says, "I envy you...If you want something and if you get it, you deserve it, and if you don't, you'll manage."

Hence, the root of bitterness: The unwillingness to recognize that you can manage, the refusal to will yourself to be content.

By no means am I saying one should lack ambition. I've written several books and had one novel published. That takes ambition. But I force myself to reconcile the fact that if my writing never gets the publicity I want it to have, I still have a good life, a wonderful loving wife, and phenomenal children along with an enjoyable vocation. 

Some things don't work out, or at least they haven't worked out yet. I was having a conversation with a friend from Nashville yesterday; I hadn't seen her for years and then she and her husband dropped by my school for a half-hour since they were in town. Michelle asked me about our son Joshua's progress. And I found myself saying--in a rare moment of the Holy Spirit taking over my vocal cords, "Well, it'll be great if the research bears fruit and we get a treatment and cure in the coming years. We'd be fools not to welcome that. It'd be an amazing blessing. But then again, we've borne this matter for all of Joshua's life. We know the terrain, and if he's never healed, that's the path we have, and we'll manage. If Joshua is healed, it'll be wonderful, and God is good. And if Joshua never walks again, it'll be okay, and God will still be good."

And yet still we move on. If we acquire wealth, are blessed with health, or other positive, that's great. If not, God gets us by in the meantime nonetheless. This time of year, it's all the more appropriate to keep I Timothy 6:6-8 in mind.

"But godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content."

Bitterness and discontent can only shred your soul and tear at the fabric of a life that--while perhaps not as ideal as you'd like it--is much better than the millions on this planet who live in abject poverty and want.

Don't let bitterness ruin your life. You brought nothing into this world, and you can't take a thing out of it. Contentment counts for so much more.

Questions That Matter

Last week--November 20th, to be exact--was the culmination of a three-part series of split chapels at Westminster Christian Academy in St. Louis, where I presently teach.  One series covered a Christian approach to film, which I've heard was very good. The other series touched on the idea of doubt and posing our questions about faith and God.

While three weeks isn't sufficient to cover every query that plagues every student (and faculty member for that matter), it does give us a starting line from which to engage the questions that are burning in students' hearts. And since I teach in a Christian school, I know that many students are--sadly--afraid to pose their inquiries because they perceive they might get a "doubters" stigma.

Personally, I wish many would throw caution to the wind. Maybe it's part of my personality that I believe in swinging the intellectual punches and prodding the areas of God and faith I don't get, and the heck with what others think. (Yes, I've read too much Philip Yancey, if that's what the accusation is) But I wish questions from others weren't in short audible supply.

Yet students wrote in their questions and we took the top cluster during the half-hour chapel last week. The video is posted above. The chapel lasts thirty-three minutes, but it's worth it if you can hang in there. From left to right are faculty members Tim Holley, L.B. Graham, and Jim Butz, then outside speaker Jeremy Smith, and then faculty members Jason Wilkins, myself, and Andy Shaw.

The questions we dealt with ranged from "How can one say Christianity is the right religion?" (4:00-10:40) to "How can we trust the Bible?" (10:40-16:00), to "Why does evil/pain exist? If God created everything, did he create evil and suffering? If God is sovereign, then why doesn't he fix our problems and hardships?" (16:00-23:00), and finally "How do you explain the contradictions that seem to exist between science and the Bible?" (23:08-28:38)

Hopefully, this can be an encouragement to believers but also invite continued conversations with seekers, doubters, and the spiritually disenchanted. Wherever you are on life's journey, maybe this will help believers and unbelievers connect to hash out some of the ideas raised by these and other questions. None of us claim to have the answers perfectly; the best we can hope for is to make a decent cumulative case that will lead to more clarity and discussion with others.

Pax vobiscum, and happy viewing!