Every so often, one responds to the unpredictable, seemingly spontaneous nature of Army life with some sort of resigned expression like "Oh, the Army." (We also use fun phrases to encourage adaptability to such a lifestyle, like "Semper Gumby.")
I was thrown for another loop this morning when it was mentioned at a meeting that the group of us who are moving will now be doing so by the end of this week. Thus, my "To Do" list has gone from preparing chapel services, Bible studies, and races to transitioning my chapel responsibilities asap, transitioning my race responsibilities asap, tie up counseling loose ends, and pack up my office.
As far as I know, I don't have an office or computer at our another site (that is another "To Do" that has now become urgent). So my first week there will probably be spent roaming around and visiting soldiers (which is never a bad or unenjoyable thing to do, regardless). I have touched base with the head chaplain at that post, and I hope to assume some form of chapel responsibilities in short order.
I am reminded more than ever that I am not in charge of my life. God directs. I follow. And I pray that, by His Spirit's power, He will work in me to will and work according to His good pleasure. May the glory of Christ be my aim in whatever circumstance.
9.9.13
8.9.13
Perspective
In God's providence, I was standing at our post memorial last night, drinking in a number of meaningful sights.
I can't really say I was standing, but panting and pacing back and forth. I had just completed ten miler in what I believe was my best time, motivated in part by a soldier from Guam who told me he wanted to talk. I finished my run with about six minutes to spare, which gave me enough time to wobble-walk across our small post.
The soldier never showed, which gave me time to examine the memorial more closely. This memorial--and our post--was named after a soldier killed in 2004. That is almost ten years ago. I was in college. My brother was getting ready to deploy to Iraq. All of us were just a few years removed form one of the most consequential events of our lifetimes--9/11. In the ten years since that time, much has changed for all of us. But not for this soldier. His brief story came to a close in 2004. Lost in the passing of time is the memory of many thousands of soldiers who will never return home, play ball in the backyard, or fill a spot at the dinner table. Life is but a mist, and a life lost will leave a mother's eye amist for a lifetime. Come, Lord Jesus, come.
I was awoken from my thoughts about this memorial by the clomp, clomp, clomp of a group of runners. There was seven of them, led by one of my soldiers who has lost 100+ pounds in the past year and a half. They were not natural runners, which is why they banded together to run the ten miler that I had set up at the last minute for this weekend. Unlike most runners, this group was running back and forth and up and down our tiny post in order to complete the race. Every so often, a cheer would go up from the group as they drew closer to their goal. I interact with a good number of runners. I'm not sure any inspire me as much as this group.
Every day finds soldiers--like the cheery running band last night--exposed to danger and their own chance at a lonely memorial. May the enduring memorial and mental image of this trip be that of blood-strewn wooden cross, where my Savior sacrificed Himself to bring spiritual terrorists like myself into an abiding and permanent peace with my Father in heaven.
I can't really say I was standing, but panting and pacing back and forth. I had just completed ten miler in what I believe was my best time, motivated in part by a soldier from Guam who told me he wanted to talk. I finished my run with about six minutes to spare, which gave me enough time to wobble-walk across our small post.
The soldier never showed, which gave me time to examine the memorial more closely. This memorial--and our post--was named after a soldier killed in 2004. That is almost ten years ago. I was in college. My brother was getting ready to deploy to Iraq. All of us were just a few years removed form one of the most consequential events of our lifetimes--9/11. In the ten years since that time, much has changed for all of us. But not for this soldier. His brief story came to a close in 2004. Lost in the passing of time is the memory of many thousands of soldiers who will never return home, play ball in the backyard, or fill a spot at the dinner table. Life is but a mist, and a life lost will leave a mother's eye amist for a lifetime. Come, Lord Jesus, come.
I was awoken from my thoughts about this memorial by the clomp, clomp, clomp of a group of runners. There was seven of them, led by one of my soldiers who has lost 100+ pounds in the past year and a half. They were not natural runners, which is why they banded together to run the ten miler that I had set up at the last minute for this weekend. Unlike most runners, this group was running back and forth and up and down our tiny post in order to complete the race. Every so often, a cheer would go up from the group as they drew closer to their goal. I interact with a good number of runners. I'm not sure any inspire me as much as this group.
Every day finds soldiers--like the cheery running band last night--exposed to danger and their own chance at a lonely memorial. May the enduring memorial and mental image of this trip be that of blood-strewn wooden cross, where my Savior sacrificed Himself to bring spiritual terrorists like myself into an abiding and permanent peace with my Father in heaven.
7.9.13
Running for His Glory
Of the 200+ leftover race shirts I inherited a few days ago, 65 or so were leftover from the Nice (France) Ten Miler. Naturally, such a surplus called for a race!
I sent an email out on the running listserves, announcing a weekend ten miler, with shirts for all (supplies limited) and medals for the top three. So far, about 30 runners have signed up and most of them have already run. Seven of these runners are at another location, so I will be mailing their shirts today.
This morning, one of my buds in the unit came over to my office to gush soon after finishing his ten miler. He blew away his fastest previous time (finished in about 78 minutes). He credited in part to a list of questions I gave him after a disappointing half marathon (that I also always ask myself after a race (especially a poor one):
He thinks the biggest improvement came from eating a snack during the race (#5). I think his biggest improvment came from his attitude (#8). Employing a few of these strategies from the list, he came in more confident (believing, as I told him, that one can become faster as they run). More important, he had just learned that his wife had finally gotten the job she wanted after years of trying and no success. He was grateful to God for this development, and at one point, laughed during his run.
Experientially, this soldier discovered one of the great secrets of running and theses of the book, Born to Run. For a remote tribe of elite ultramarathoners in a secluded canyon in Mexico, they never "went for a run"--they just ran. They didn't have a well-balanced diet, good shoes, or injury prevention plan--they just ran. And the few times they ran ultramarathons in the US, they psyched other runners out, not because of their feet, but because of their smiles. They delighted in using their bodies as they were made to be used--like children who run barefoot in grass at full speed at every opportunity simply because they can.
Eric Liddell, the Christian olympic runner took this line of thought to a higher plane when he said, "I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure."
There is something about running, when not done purely as an exercise, that quiets the soul before God. There is something about using this ingenuous, God-crafted contraption called the body--where a quarter of the bones exist in the feet--to explore His creation and marvel at His handiwork. I aim to run more according to this dictum: Speed does not preceed enjoyment; Enjoyment preceeds speed.
God tells us in 1 Cor. 10:31, "Whether you eat or drink, whatever you do, do it to the glory of God." When we use our created bodies, mind, and hearts for His glory and service, it is then that we can "feel His pleasure," and truly begin to enjoy Him forever. May God draw our minds to things above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. When Christ, who is our life, appears, we will also appear with Him in glory (Col. 3).
I sent an email out on the running listserves, announcing a weekend ten miler, with shirts for all (supplies limited) and medals for the top three. So far, about 30 runners have signed up and most of them have already run. Seven of these runners are at another location, so I will be mailing their shirts today.
This morning, one of my buds in the unit came over to my office to gush soon after finishing his ten miler. He blew away his fastest previous time (finished in about 78 minutes). He credited in part to a list of questions I gave him after a disappointing half marathon (that I also always ask myself after a race (especially a poor one):
1) Have I been running enough?
2) Did I run/workout too much that I didn't leave time to recover?
3) Did I get enough sleep, drink plenty of water, and eat the right foods in the days prior?
4) Was I hydrating enough during the race with both water and Gatorade?
5) Did I eat snacks during the race to replenish my energy stores?
6) Did I start off too fast so that I bonked toward the end?
7) Was my goal time realistic?
8) Was my head in the game? Did I look at the clock too much or think about my legs too much?
He thinks the biggest improvement came from eating a snack during the race (#5). I think his biggest improvment came from his attitude (#8). Employing a few of these strategies from the list, he came in more confident (believing, as I told him, that one can become faster as they run). More important, he had just learned that his wife had finally gotten the job she wanted after years of trying and no success. He was grateful to God for this development, and at one point, laughed during his run.
Experientially, this soldier discovered one of the great secrets of running and theses of the book, Born to Run. For a remote tribe of elite ultramarathoners in a secluded canyon in Mexico, they never "went for a run"--they just ran. They didn't have a well-balanced diet, good shoes, or injury prevention plan--they just ran. And the few times they ran ultramarathons in the US, they psyched other runners out, not because of their feet, but because of their smiles. They delighted in using their bodies as they were made to be used--like children who run barefoot in grass at full speed at every opportunity simply because they can.
Eric Liddell, the Christian olympic runner took this line of thought to a higher plane when he said, "I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure."
There is something about running, when not done purely as an exercise, that quiets the soul before God. There is something about using this ingenuous, God-crafted contraption called the body--where a quarter of the bones exist in the feet--to explore His creation and marvel at His handiwork. I aim to run more according to this dictum: Speed does not preceed enjoyment; Enjoyment preceeds speed.
God tells us in 1 Cor. 10:31, "Whether you eat or drink, whatever you do, do it to the glory of God." When we use our created bodies, mind, and hearts for His glory and service, it is then that we can "feel His pleasure," and truly begin to enjoy Him forever. May God draw our minds to things above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. When Christ, who is our life, appears, we will also appear with Him in glory (Col. 3).
6.9.13
Chaplain's Library: The Missing Piece
As I read through the stirring epilogue of Love's Executioner, by Irving Yalom, I realized that in the course of reading the book, I learned more about the world, the human person, and myself. But there was something missing.
You see, Yalom, views death as one of four primary issues at the root of all human problems. (His assertions on these root matters are found in his prologue, which is worth the price of the book.) As the reader progresses through his unbelievable array of case studies, it has not to reach the conclusion: Death is not merely a key factor in some cases, but in all cases. Over and over again, no matter what the intitial problems happen to be, there is a brutal confrontation with death, which reveals the meaninglessness of much of human life.
At some point, the job ends, the children leave the house, and a single person or couple is left with their waning years and more or less money. Thoughts of death are fought back, but cannot be contained. The crisis of this mental confrontation is drawn out earlier in the or more explicitly with the death of others, or the dissolution of family bonds. A familiar line in group therapy in explaining why it is important to not be alone in dealing with thoughts of death: It is much easier to know that there other ships sailing alongside of your own. Solitude only makes it worse.
And most issues, at root, wrestle with the question of life's meaning. Why? Because life will eventually end in death. Why should I lose weight? Work through marital difficulties? Get over another's death? Eventually, it seems that most people will settle into a depressed fatalism, religious belief, or frantic fight for their youth and invincibility. But if each of these are simply coping mechanisms, than none of them deal with the essence or meaning of death. More in a moment...
I am now a third of way through the book, Born to Run, by Christopher McDougle. Thus far, one of the great epiphanies of this book is that much of what makes a remote Mexican tribe elite ultramarathoners is the simple concept of love. They do not run for competition or prizes, but they run everywhere because that is what man was made to do, and they love it. The same is said of an Olympic Czech runner from the 1950s, who though running with hideous form and few supports, blew away all other world runners. He just loved to run. When the Soviet Union crushed the Czechs, they told this runner to either be the Soviet Ambassador for running or clean toilets the rest of his life. This man chose toilets.
Both Yalom and McDougle's books deal with meaty concepts: death and love, but do not explore the meaning behind them. Psychology can only approach death's door, turn around, and advise others on strategies of approaching it as well. It is not allowed to knock. Likewise, love is a wonderful concept, but it lacks a substantial core. Eventually the body breaks down. What love sustains us in those moments? To truly love letting our legs or minds fly under the glorious light of day?
Death has a cause: sin. It is universal in its scope and always carries suffering in its way. The only way to confront death is to understand it in its proper perspective, not merely cope with it. The Bible sets death in its proper place and then gives us the keys to approach it without fear, for Christ has removed its sting and victory for all who have faith in Him, by God's grace alone. This is not a coping strategy. It is a right understanding of truth, which infuses life with meaning and hope.
Likewise, love is what drove Christ to the cross--love for His sheep and love of the Father and His glory. Love is what conquers death (SoS 8:7-8)--not ours, but that of Christ. It is in Him that we live and move and have our being. It is this love that allows us to not merely cope with the looming shadow of death, but to live with profound joy in the light of day at the same time.
You see, Yalom, views death as one of four primary issues at the root of all human problems. (His assertions on these root matters are found in his prologue, which is worth the price of the book.) As the reader progresses through his unbelievable array of case studies, it has not to reach the conclusion: Death is not merely a key factor in some cases, but in all cases. Over and over again, no matter what the intitial problems happen to be, there is a brutal confrontation with death, which reveals the meaninglessness of much of human life.
At some point, the job ends, the children leave the house, and a single person or couple is left with their waning years and more or less money. Thoughts of death are fought back, but cannot be contained. The crisis of this mental confrontation is drawn out earlier in the or more explicitly with the death of others, or the dissolution of family bonds. A familiar line in group therapy in explaining why it is important to not be alone in dealing with thoughts of death: It is much easier to know that there other ships sailing alongside of your own. Solitude only makes it worse.
And most issues, at root, wrestle with the question of life's meaning. Why? Because life will eventually end in death. Why should I lose weight? Work through marital difficulties? Get over another's death? Eventually, it seems that most people will settle into a depressed fatalism, religious belief, or frantic fight for their youth and invincibility. But if each of these are simply coping mechanisms, than none of them deal with the essence or meaning of death. More in a moment...
I am now a third of way through the book, Born to Run, by Christopher McDougle. Thus far, one of the great epiphanies of this book is that much of what makes a remote Mexican tribe elite ultramarathoners is the simple concept of love. They do not run for competition or prizes, but they run everywhere because that is what man was made to do, and they love it. The same is said of an Olympic Czech runner from the 1950s, who though running with hideous form and few supports, blew away all other world runners. He just loved to run. When the Soviet Union crushed the Czechs, they told this runner to either be the Soviet Ambassador for running or clean toilets the rest of his life. This man chose toilets.
Both Yalom and McDougle's books deal with meaty concepts: death and love, but do not explore the meaning behind them. Psychology can only approach death's door, turn around, and advise others on strategies of approaching it as well. It is not allowed to knock. Likewise, love is a wonderful concept, but it lacks a substantial core. Eventually the body breaks down. What love sustains us in those moments? To truly love letting our legs or minds fly under the glorious light of day?
Death has a cause: sin. It is universal in its scope and always carries suffering in its way. The only way to confront death is to understand it in its proper perspective, not merely cope with it. The Bible sets death in its proper place and then gives us the keys to approach it without fear, for Christ has removed its sting and victory for all who have faith in Him, by God's grace alone. This is not a coping strategy. It is a right understanding of truth, which infuses life with meaning and hope.
Likewise, love is what drove Christ to the cross--love for His sheep and love of the Father and His glory. Love is what conquers death (SoS 8:7-8)--not ours, but that of Christ. It is in Him that we live and move and have our being. It is this love that allows us to not merely cope with the looming shadow of death, but to live with profound joy in the light of day at the same time.
5.9.13
Prayer For a Soldier
Greetings, Friends.
I got the following email from one of my soldiers this morning:
The need for prayer here is pretty clear. This especially strikes a chord with me because of the scare with my dear wife and precious boy this past year. A man is much more willing and able to put his own life on the line than face the possible loss of his wife or child. When we're unable to protect those we are called to give our lives for, the agony of helplessness is paralyzing. I am sure it's even worse when a soldier is deployed and unable to even give his wife a hug, stroke her hair, and give her the comfort of a present love.
Please join me in prayer for this family--that God would give the doctors wisdom in this matter, restore this woman to full health in His providence, strengthen her as she cares for the kids (two year old boy and baby girl), give her husband hope in his helplessness and encouraging words for her, and draw them closer together before the throne of grace, where in Christ, they have every Spiritual resource at their disposal.
How the shadow clings to the Light! But it shall never overcome it. (John 1) Praise be to God.
I got the following email from one of my soldiers this morning:
My wife informed me last night that she has two spots on
her cervix. They did a biopsy and she
gets the results on Friday and what the plan will be to treat her. The Doc. Said she is in the "severe"
category and they need to decide if they will just remove the spots, or do a
full hysterectomy. It runs in her family
(her mother and aunt have both had hysterectomies) so she is very nervous. Especially with me not being home. Hopefully the surgery can be postponed until
I get home from this deployment (if it is of no risk extra risk to her) because
she works full time and cares for both kids.
Please just keep her in your prayers.
The need for prayer here is pretty clear. This especially strikes a chord with me because of the scare with my dear wife and precious boy this past year. A man is much more willing and able to put his own life on the line than face the possible loss of his wife or child. When we're unable to protect those we are called to give our lives for, the agony of helplessness is paralyzing. I am sure it's even worse when a soldier is deployed and unable to even give his wife a hug, stroke her hair, and give her the comfort of a present love.
Please join me in prayer for this family--that God would give the doctors wisdom in this matter, restore this woman to full health in His providence, strengthen her as she cares for the kids (two year old boy and baby girl), give her husband hope in his helplessness and encouraging words for her, and draw them closer together before the throne of grace, where in Christ, they have every Spiritual resource at their disposal.
How the shadow clings to the Light! But it shall never overcome it. (John 1) Praise be to God.
4.9.13
Moving
By the end of the month, I'll be moving to a sister post in the same region of the country. A good number of my soldiers here are disappointed, especially the friend with whom I room.
My emotions are more mixed. As I've learned in the States and in Africa, I must be ready and willing to joyfully call any place home. Here are the perks and drawbacks of the move, which will hopefully give you all a better mental picture of my present and future work:
Drawbacks:
1) Leaving behind about 40% of my unit. I have visited all of them several times a week in their places of work since we first arrived. They know to expect me (and my candy).
2) Leaving behind several ongoing counseling cases, which are among my most vital labors.
3) Leaving behind my morning chapel service after getting through just a chapter of a series through Philippians. I joke that this is becoming a pattern. When I finally decided it was safe to assume that I wouldn't be deployed, I started a series on James at church, only to be cut off after a chapter. Sheesh!
4) Leaving behind a Bible study with several committed attenders, including my activist friend.
5) Leaving behind my deeper relationships. An enduring (prayer) need of the pastor/chaplain is to find a few deep friendships where he is not "on." I can easily seclude myself in my sociability.
6) Leaving behind my new post "Run Master" role, just after assuming the responsibility (and joy).
7) Leaving behind the few trees and places of shade in Afghanistan.
8) Leaving behind a nice office in which I had invested many hours to make hospitable.
Perks:
1) Moving forward to about 50% of my unit (plus an additional 5% who are moving with me). I have missed these soldiers greatly, as I have only visited them twice. I haven't even met many of our international soldiers over there. There also seems to be more morale issues over there, as many of these soldiers are involved in direct training/advising, and some have come under fire.
2) As a result, moving forward to more fruitful counseling, visitation, and evangelistic opportunities.
3) Moving forward to another chapel service and Bible study (hopefully).
4) Moving forward to new opportunities to form deep friendships, and hopefully some that prove convicting and encouraging at the core spiritual level.
5) Moving forward to a location with more room to run outdoors, and hopefully a new opportunity to become a post "Run Master" and organize events.
6) Moving forward to a place with more material resources (larger PX), shops, and fast food.
Ultimately, while I am sad to leave behind relationships and services, I can readily see the opportunity for a greater impact at the place where I am going. I can travel back here on occasion (hopefully more frequently than I traveled to the new location), and hopefully keep me counseling cases going, even if less frequent. May God grant me wisdom so I may approve what is excellent!
My emotions are more mixed. As I've learned in the States and in Africa, I must be ready and willing to joyfully call any place home. Here are the perks and drawbacks of the move, which will hopefully give you all a better mental picture of my present and future work:
Drawbacks:
1) Leaving behind about 40% of my unit. I have visited all of them several times a week in their places of work since we first arrived. They know to expect me (and my candy).
2) Leaving behind several ongoing counseling cases, which are among my most vital labors.
3) Leaving behind my morning chapel service after getting through just a chapter of a series through Philippians. I joke that this is becoming a pattern. When I finally decided it was safe to assume that I wouldn't be deployed, I started a series on James at church, only to be cut off after a chapter. Sheesh!
4) Leaving behind a Bible study with several committed attenders, including my activist friend.
5) Leaving behind my deeper relationships. An enduring (prayer) need of the pastor/chaplain is to find a few deep friendships where he is not "on." I can easily seclude myself in my sociability.
6) Leaving behind my new post "Run Master" role, just after assuming the responsibility (and joy).
7) Leaving behind the few trees and places of shade in Afghanistan.
8) Leaving behind a nice office in which I had invested many hours to make hospitable.
Perks:
1) Moving forward to about 50% of my unit (plus an additional 5% who are moving with me). I have missed these soldiers greatly, as I have only visited them twice. I haven't even met many of our international soldiers over there. There also seems to be more morale issues over there, as many of these soldiers are involved in direct training/advising, and some have come under fire.
2) As a result, moving forward to more fruitful counseling, visitation, and evangelistic opportunities.
3) Moving forward to another chapel service and Bible study (hopefully).
4) Moving forward to new opportunities to form deep friendships, and hopefully some that prove convicting and encouraging at the core spiritual level.
5) Moving forward to a location with more room to run outdoors, and hopefully a new opportunity to become a post "Run Master" and organize events.
6) Moving forward to a place with more material resources (larger PX), shops, and fast food.
Ultimately, while I am sad to leave behind relationships and services, I can readily see the opportunity for a greater impact at the place where I am going. I can travel back here on occasion (hopefully more frequently than I traveled to the new location), and hopefully keep me counseling cases going, even if less frequent. May God grant me wisdom so I may approve what is excellent!
3.9.13
The Beautiful Bad News
I was enjoying a conversation with my CDR the other day (as I so often do). He is sincere, Roman Catholic believer who can offer a bunch of spot-on critiques of the evangelical pop culture.
We talked about how some of this culture was influence by the influence of psychologist Norman Vincent Peale's "Power of Positive Thinking," and the bubble gum preachers who decided to turn that into a Christian philosophy of ministry (i.e. most of the people on TV).
Now my CDR also appreciates a certain degree of positive thinking and believes in its power. To a certain degree, I do as well. We are both fans of cognitive psychology, with its focus on changing destructive thought patterns. But positive thinking isn't enough. Not for psychology. Not for ministry.
In fact, positive thinking, if seen as an end, will always end in despair. If a pastor tells you that you can have your best life now, then you should probably politely call him a liar. This life is not all about finding your purpose, realizing your potential, or achieving health and wealth. It is about glorifying God and enjoying Him forever.
I told my CDR that we need to hear about sin and judgment in every sermon. He told me he doesn't like those "hellfire and brimstone" sermons. I agree. Most of those sermons simply provoke the fear of God, but offer no comfort in the love and mercy of God in Jesus Christ. I told him that we need both. Jesus came for the sick, not the healthy; sinners, not the righteous. We need to be convicted of our sin by the law before we can be comforted by the Gospel. We need our wounds exposed if we are to savor the salve of the Gospel. Only great sinners know their need for a great Savior.
That point struck him. Hopefully the truth God gives us through Paul in Romans 12 will touch him anew--that we live in view of God's mercy before we offer our bodies as living sacrifices (v1) and we must be transformed by the renewing of our minds before we can test and approve God's will (v2). Positive thinking and living starts with the Gospel and is cultivated by Spirit-wrought conviction and comfort in Christ.
I also spent an hour or two debating some theological points with an older soldier at dinner last night. Whenever someone starts with the question, "You know what's wrong with the Church today?" I brace myself. I'm glad these folks don't have the authority to judge the Church as they suppose, for that power belongs to Christ alone and He is much more gracious (Rom. 8:34).
He then proceeded to tell me about how it's because we don't do what Jesus did, for Jesus said that those who believe shall do what he did and even more. For this man, this couldn't possibly mean that Jesus was referring to our walking according to the same Spirit that guided Him, or that we will be able to share the same life-saving message that He did, though we are sinners. Nope. This has to mean that we will do miracles just like the Apostles. We should be able to heal the sick and claim the physical promises that God has given us.
I rarely get annoyed. But when I hear a fellow believer claim this sort of voodoo-Christian nonsense, I get a bit perturbed. Jesus never sinned. Can we do that? Jesus poured out His Spirit upon His people. Can we do that?
Apparently, more miracles would verify the truth of the Word and the Church would reverse course from its "decline" (despit the fact that it is surging in much of the non-western world). Yet miracles did nothing to convince unbelievers of Jesus' identity in His day. Mankind saw the miracles. And then mankind murdered the Son of God.
Faith comes through hearing the Word (Rom. 10), not by sight. And we are not promised good times. Rather, we are told that the world will hate us and that we will suffer. To claim that we can heal cancer is demonic. Paul had a thorn in the flesh (perhaps bad eyes)--where was his faith to heal himself? Suffering is not the disease, it is the symptom. Christ became our sin so we might be the righteousness of God. He did not become our sufferer so we might be the healthy of God.
There will be a day when "there will be no more curse," the physical body and the world will be restored to their original beauty, and every tear will be wiped from our eyes (Rev. 21-22). But that today is not today. Today, we follow Christ and bear the weight of the cross. On That Day, we will follow Christ and bear the weight of glory (Col. 3:1-4).
You know what's wrong with the Church today? It is filled with sinners, some of whom would rather sit on the throne of judgment rather than at the feet of the Justifier. Come, Lord Jesus, come.
We talked about how some of this culture was influence by the influence of psychologist Norman Vincent Peale's "Power of Positive Thinking," and the bubble gum preachers who decided to turn that into a Christian philosophy of ministry (i.e. most of the people on TV).
Now my CDR also appreciates a certain degree of positive thinking and believes in its power. To a certain degree, I do as well. We are both fans of cognitive psychology, with its focus on changing destructive thought patterns. But positive thinking isn't enough. Not for psychology. Not for ministry.
In fact, positive thinking, if seen as an end, will always end in despair. If a pastor tells you that you can have your best life now, then you should probably politely call him a liar. This life is not all about finding your purpose, realizing your potential, or achieving health and wealth. It is about glorifying God and enjoying Him forever.
I told my CDR that we need to hear about sin and judgment in every sermon. He told me he doesn't like those "hellfire and brimstone" sermons. I agree. Most of those sermons simply provoke the fear of God, but offer no comfort in the love and mercy of God in Jesus Christ. I told him that we need both. Jesus came for the sick, not the healthy; sinners, not the righteous. We need to be convicted of our sin by the law before we can be comforted by the Gospel. We need our wounds exposed if we are to savor the salve of the Gospel. Only great sinners know their need for a great Savior.
That point struck him. Hopefully the truth God gives us through Paul in Romans 12 will touch him anew--that we live in view of God's mercy before we offer our bodies as living sacrifices (v1) and we must be transformed by the renewing of our minds before we can test and approve God's will (v2). Positive thinking and living starts with the Gospel and is cultivated by Spirit-wrought conviction and comfort in Christ.
I also spent an hour or two debating some theological points with an older soldier at dinner last night. Whenever someone starts with the question, "You know what's wrong with the Church today?" I brace myself. I'm glad these folks don't have the authority to judge the Church as they suppose, for that power belongs to Christ alone and He is much more gracious (Rom. 8:34).
He then proceeded to tell me about how it's because we don't do what Jesus did, for Jesus said that those who believe shall do what he did and even more. For this man, this couldn't possibly mean that Jesus was referring to our walking according to the same Spirit that guided Him, or that we will be able to share the same life-saving message that He did, though we are sinners. Nope. This has to mean that we will do miracles just like the Apostles. We should be able to heal the sick and claim the physical promises that God has given us.
I rarely get annoyed. But when I hear a fellow believer claim this sort of voodoo-Christian nonsense, I get a bit perturbed. Jesus never sinned. Can we do that? Jesus poured out His Spirit upon His people. Can we do that?
Apparently, more miracles would verify the truth of the Word and the Church would reverse course from its "decline" (despit the fact that it is surging in much of the non-western world). Yet miracles did nothing to convince unbelievers of Jesus' identity in His day. Mankind saw the miracles. And then mankind murdered the Son of God.
Faith comes through hearing the Word (Rom. 10), not by sight. And we are not promised good times. Rather, we are told that the world will hate us and that we will suffer. To claim that we can heal cancer is demonic. Paul had a thorn in the flesh (perhaps bad eyes)--where was his faith to heal himself? Suffering is not the disease, it is the symptom. Christ became our sin so we might be the righteousness of God. He did not become our sufferer so we might be the healthy of God.
There will be a day when "there will be no more curse," the physical body and the world will be restored to their original beauty, and every tear will be wiped from our eyes (Rev. 21-22). But that today is not today. Today, we follow Christ and bear the weight of the cross. On That Day, we will follow Christ and bear the weight of glory (Col. 3:1-4).
You know what's wrong with the Church today? It is filled with sinners, some of whom would rather sit on the throne of judgment rather than at the feet of the Justifier. Come, Lord Jesus, come.
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