I 'gave up' facebook for Lent.
Let me just say: it was long overdue.
Don't get me wrong--I love being social. I love people and I love pictures and I love faces. But facebook, for me, had become like an appendage.
When is it ever okay for a time-wasting, privacy-destroying, ego-building, everybody-look-at-me-and-my-life-and-what-i'm-doing-and-quoting WEBSITE to become like an appendage?
Obviously, I needed a break. But now Lent is over and I can go back to facebook. Funny thing, though--now that I've experienced freedom from the burden (yes, I said it!) of facebook, I find myself truly hesitant to return, no matter how reformed my ways may now be.
So, I'm going to hold off for a bit longer. And I am going to enjoy every single minute of it.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
the honesty of today.
to be bluntly honest, i am tired today. bone-and-flesh decaying, soul-wearying, mood-altering: tired.
i am tired of misunderstanding, tired of grief, tired of poverty; tired of unfulfilled desire, tired of always wanting the next thing, tired of...trying.
come, O Rest, and share Your burden with Your daughter--You promised it was light and I need You to come through.
i am tired of misunderstanding, tired of grief, tired of poverty; tired of unfulfilled desire, tired of always wanting the next thing, tired of...trying.
come, O Rest, and share Your burden with Your daughter--You promised it was light and I need You to come through.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
unfair generosity
I have been starting to write this blog in my head for a few months now, but something more pressing or important always seemed to budge in front and take priority before I could actually write it.
Most days, I have a fairly substantial commute to work. Usually, I don't mind the heaviness of the traffic (although the apparent lack of intelligent drivers is disconcerting), the amount of time spent in the car or the suffocating concrete that covers pretty much everything. In fact, as long as I keep a sharp eye out for drivers who aren't keeping a sharp eye out, I generally have some good time of reflection and talking to Jesus. But no matter how lost I am in my own thoughts as I exit onto the interstate, He always points out the migrant workers that are standing underneath the mammoth concrete overpass just waiting for someone--anyone--to drive by and hire them for the day. Always. And then He always reminds me of the parable of the hired workers (in Matthew 20.1-16).
Finally, after months of driving by these men and being reminded that they teach us about the Kingdom, too, I looked up the parable and read it through in its entirety this morning.
The owner of a vineyard goes out one morning and hires a few day-laborers, agreeing to pay them a day's wage for their work. Then he goes out later in the morning and hires a few more day-laborers, agreeing to pay them what is right. Again, at noon and 3:00pm he goes out and does the same thing. Finally, at 5:00pm he once more goes in search and finds some day-laborers who still have not been hired. He asks them why they aren't doing anything and they answer simply: because no one had hired them. So, he tells them to come work for him in his vineyard.
An hour later, the day-laborers line up to receive their wages. The owner starts paying the last-hired first--and he gives them each the equivalent of a day's wages! The workers hired early in the morning begin to get excited because they think they will now receive many times more than a day's wages, as the owner has shown some extravagant generosity to the least worthy.
But the owner pays all the workers the same. The ones who have worked 12 hours get the same salary as those who have worked one hour. Those who worked all day are shocked and angry. "When they received [the day's wage], they began to grumble against the landowner.‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’"
I admit I identify completely with the seemingly nubbed day-laborers. That is not fair. It is infuriating, it is insulting, it is unjust...it's just plain wrong. I can hear the empathetic, grumbling voice in my head. What could possibly be right about this situation? How in the world is Jesus going to pull out a 'teaching point' from this one?
But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius?Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’
Ouch.
My mind went two directions:
1) Have I made some sort of agreement with God to lock myself into a good deal?
and
2) I actually thought of two people that God has been generous to in ways that I consider significant. I realized that yes--I am envious of that generosity. It's not fair that they are doing things I want to and should be doing. It's not right and it's...insulting.
As I hear the grumble rising in my throat, I realize that my response reveals the true state of my heart. The point of the parable, you see, is that generosity by its very definition is unfair. Jesus reminds me that the receiver is always indebted to the Giver. And everything He gives--no matter how big or small--is unfairly generous. How could I question the Owner about the quantitative distribution of His resources?
God help me.
----------------------------------------------
Those migrant workers are hired some days. Other days, they are still waiting when most people are driving home. But hired workers fit right into God's economy:
“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
Most days, I have a fairly substantial commute to work. Usually, I don't mind the heaviness of the traffic (although the apparent lack of intelligent drivers is disconcerting), the amount of time spent in the car or the suffocating concrete that covers pretty much everything. In fact, as long as I keep a sharp eye out for drivers who aren't keeping a sharp eye out, I generally have some good time of reflection and talking to Jesus. But no matter how lost I am in my own thoughts as I exit onto the interstate, He always points out the migrant workers that are standing underneath the mammoth concrete overpass just waiting for someone--anyone--to drive by and hire them for the day. Always. And then He always reminds me of the parable of the hired workers (in Matthew 20.1-16).
Finally, after months of driving by these men and being reminded that they teach us about the Kingdom, too, I looked up the parable and read it through in its entirety this morning.
The owner of a vineyard goes out one morning and hires a few day-laborers, agreeing to pay them a day's wage for their work. Then he goes out later in the morning and hires a few more day-laborers, agreeing to pay them what is right. Again, at noon and 3:00pm he goes out and does the same thing. Finally, at 5:00pm he once more goes in search and finds some day-laborers who still have not been hired. He asks them why they aren't doing anything and they answer simply: because no one had hired them. So, he tells them to come work for him in his vineyard.
An hour later, the day-laborers line up to receive their wages. The owner starts paying the last-hired first--and he gives them each the equivalent of a day's wages! The workers hired early in the morning begin to get excited because they think they will now receive many times more than a day's wages, as the owner has shown some extravagant generosity to the least worthy.
But the owner pays all the workers the same. The ones who have worked 12 hours get the same salary as those who have worked one hour. Those who worked all day are shocked and angry. "When they received [the day's wage], they began to grumble against the landowner.‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’"
I admit I identify completely with the seemingly nubbed day-laborers. That is not fair. It is infuriating, it is insulting, it is unjust...it's just plain wrong. I can hear the empathetic, grumbling voice in my head. What could possibly be right about this situation? How in the world is Jesus going to pull out a 'teaching point' from this one?
But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius?Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’
Ouch.
My mind went two directions:
1) Have I made some sort of agreement with God to lock myself into a good deal?
and
2) I actually thought of two people that God has been generous to in ways that I consider significant. I realized that yes--I am envious of that generosity. It's not fair that they are doing things I want to and should be doing. It's not right and it's...insulting.
As I hear the grumble rising in my throat, I realize that my response reveals the true state of my heart. The point of the parable, you see, is that generosity by its very definition is unfair. Jesus reminds me that the receiver is always indebted to the Giver. And everything He gives--no matter how big or small--is unfairly generous. How could I question the Owner about the quantitative distribution of His resources?
God help me.
----------------------------------------------
Those migrant workers are hired some days. Other days, they are still waiting when most people are driving home. But hired workers fit right into God's economy:
“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The Horse Who Ran.
Sometimes the truths of Freedom and Grace overwhelm me in utterly subversive ways.
Today, for instance. (This morning to be exact.)
As my husband and I attend a Saturday evening church service, Sunday mornings are typically unhurried, restful, contemplative, joyful. This morning after we fixed our "Weekend Special" breakfast, we decided to watch a movie we had rented two days previously but had not yet found the time to enjoy: Secretariat.
If you don't know the story of this incredible racehorse, you can read about him here, or purchase his biography here.
Secretariat was a stallion owned by Penny (Chenery) Tweedy back in the 60s and 70s. In 1973, he became the first racehorse to win the Triple Crown (the Kentucky Derby, Preakness Stakes and Belmont Stakes all in one year) in twenty five years. And he did not just win all three--he won resoundingly. In fact, the records he set at the Belmont have yet to be broken.
You see, Secretariat had a rival: Sham. Sham had beaten Secretariat earlier in the season, but Secretariat came back to win with the Derby and the Preakness. However, at the start of the Belmont, Sham and Secretariat were neck-and-neck. Then, Secretariat ran.
He ran and he ran and he ran. He ran so fast that he was almost flying. He ran faster and faster and faster and pretty soon the television cameras could barely keep him and the next-fastest horse in the same screen. He won that race by 31 lengths.
Secretariat was running that way because he was made to run that way. He was made to run and defy the odds and take everyone by surprise and triumph.
I couldn't help it. I began to weep. And it was because I knew that I was made to run like that, and I was made to win. Sure, I stumble and fall, but Oh! to be able to run--fly--Live in the freedom and grace I've been given.
That is the race you and I were made for.
Today, for instance. (This morning to be exact.)
As my husband and I attend a Saturday evening church service, Sunday mornings are typically unhurried, restful, contemplative, joyful. This morning after we fixed our "Weekend Special" breakfast, we decided to watch a movie we had rented two days previously but had not yet found the time to enjoy: Secretariat.
If you don't know the story of this incredible racehorse, you can read about him here, or purchase his biography here.
Secretariat was a stallion owned by Penny (Chenery) Tweedy back in the 60s and 70s. In 1973, he became the first racehorse to win the Triple Crown (the Kentucky Derby, Preakness Stakes and Belmont Stakes all in one year) in twenty five years. And he did not just win all three--he won resoundingly. In fact, the records he set at the Belmont have yet to be broken.
You see, Secretariat had a rival: Sham. Sham had beaten Secretariat earlier in the season, but Secretariat came back to win with the Derby and the Preakness. However, at the start of the Belmont, Sham and Secretariat were neck-and-neck. Then, Secretariat ran.
He ran and he ran and he ran. He ran so fast that he was almost flying. He ran faster and faster and faster and pretty soon the television cameras could barely keep him and the next-fastest horse in the same screen. He won that race by 31 lengths.
Secretariat was running that way because he was made to run that way. He was made to run and defy the odds and take everyone by surprise and triumph.
I couldn't help it. I began to weep. And it was because I knew that I was made to run like that, and I was made to win. Sure, I stumble and fall, but Oh! to be able to run--fly--Live in the freedom and grace I've been given.
That is the race you and I were made for.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
the pimp.
I teach a couple of online classes for a Bible college. Part of the structure of these classes involves required forum participation--which takes the place of normal classroom ‘face time.’ Students have to respond to an original prompt and then interact with one other after original responses have been written.
Today, as I was scanning student entries, I stumbled across this quote:
“We do at times pimp our Lord and He is not pleased with our actions.”
My first reaction was out-loud, prolonged laughter--’Seriously?!’
I have never heard someone say that in all of my years. I’ve never even heard anything come close to that. Hil.Ar.I.Ous.
But I have to admit--part of my response was pure joy. It was honestly refreshing to be confronted with an entirely unorthodox and keenly vivid metaphor describing the way we try to elicit what we want--try to ‘skim a little off the top’--try to control or manage an utterly abysmal cycle of selfishness and greed.
‘Yes,’ I thought, ‘That is exactly what we do. We try to be nice to Him, feed Him a diet designed to keep His figure, let Him sleep in a nice, posh house with lots of entertainment, let Him ride around with us in a pimped-out car and then sell Him whenever we need a little extra cash. Of course, He’s never allowed to leave or make friends with other people or try a new line of work, because then where would we be?’
It’s sad. It’s disgusting.
It’s true. That’s what we do. And it feels good to stare it in the face and call it what it is.
The comment arose in the context of talking about symbolism in Jeremiah. One of the examples that came up was the symbolism of unfaithfulness in a marriage relationship. (Jeremiah 2 is one of the pertinent passages.) Yahweh compares His people to prostitutes, donkeys in heat, wasted slaves and corrupt vines. In fact, the more we read Jeremiah and really allow ourselves to see the pictures God has painted about His relationship with people, the more we see that placing anyone, anything, any idea, any promise, or any love above Him is essentially a defiant shout of rebellion, a bitter shaking of the fist, a manipulative attempt to control the (all-powerful) Situation, and a cleverly disguised coup on the authority and grace of Goodness.
This is our ‘pimping of God.’
And this is how we break the cycle:
“Return, faithless Israel,’ declares the LORD, ‘I will frown on you no longer, for I am faithful,’ declares the LORD, ‘I will not be angry forever. Only acknowledge your guilt—you have rebelled against the LORD your God, you have scattered your favors to foreign gods under every spreading tree, and have not obeyed me,’” declares the LORD.” (Jeremiah 3:12-13)
Return.
Today, as I was scanning student entries, I stumbled across this quote:
“We do at times pimp our Lord and He is not pleased with our actions.”
My first reaction was out-loud, prolonged laughter--’Seriously?!’
I have never heard someone say that in all of my years. I’ve never even heard anything come close to that. Hil.Ar.I.Ous.
But I have to admit--part of my response was pure joy. It was honestly refreshing to be confronted with an entirely unorthodox and keenly vivid metaphor describing the way we try to elicit what we want--try to ‘skim a little off the top’--try to control or manage an utterly abysmal cycle of selfishness and greed.
‘Yes,’ I thought, ‘That is exactly what we do. We try to be nice to Him, feed Him a diet designed to keep His figure, let Him sleep in a nice, posh house with lots of entertainment, let Him ride around with us in a pimped-out car and then sell Him whenever we need a little extra cash. Of course, He’s never allowed to leave or make friends with other people or try a new line of work, because then where would we be?’
It’s sad. It’s disgusting.
It’s true. That’s what we do. And it feels good to stare it in the face and call it what it is.
The comment arose in the context of talking about symbolism in Jeremiah. One of the examples that came up was the symbolism of unfaithfulness in a marriage relationship. (Jeremiah 2 is one of the pertinent passages.) Yahweh compares His people to prostitutes, donkeys in heat, wasted slaves and corrupt vines. In fact, the more we read Jeremiah and really allow ourselves to see the pictures God has painted about His relationship with people, the more we see that placing anyone, anything, any idea, any promise, or any love above Him is essentially a defiant shout of rebellion, a bitter shaking of the fist, a manipulative attempt to control the (all-powerful) Situation, and a cleverly disguised coup on the authority and grace of Goodness.
This is our ‘pimping of God.’
And this is how we break the cycle:
“Return, faithless Israel,’ declares the LORD, ‘I will frown on you no longer, for I am faithful,’ declares the LORD, ‘I will not be angry forever. Only acknowledge your guilt—you have rebelled against the LORD your God, you have scattered your favors to foreign gods under every spreading tree, and have not obeyed me,’” declares the LORD.” (Jeremiah 3:12-13)
Return.
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