McCain and Palin

I want to begin by saying that, from all appearances, Palin is a solid candidate for political office. As far as her platform goes, at least on the issue of abortion, a Christian couldn't ask for better. And in this post, I don't want to even hint at the suggestion that she is not capable or would not do a fantastic job as VP, or even President were it to come to that through some unfortunate event during McCain's tenure (assuming he is the one elected). I'm not opposed to Palin based on the fact she's a woman, per say. I also agree with DW's latest that the fact that she's a mother and wife does not necessarily disqualify her. No, this article's not really about Palin at all - or only insofar as she provides a "platform" for me to discuss an issue that is not even on the most conservative Christians' radar screens. And it's somewhat related to the issue of women in the military.

Three times in Romans 13:4-6, Paul calls civil authorities "God's ministers." This implies, of course, that they are appointed by God to "ad-minister" His will in society - particularly, the ministry of the "sword" (v4). The "sword," here, is a metaphor for any physical punishment of those who break the law. God places this sword in the hands of civil magistrates and they are responsible to administer it according to His will. But now that Jesus has become the King of kings and Lord of lords and is presently "the blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings and Lord of lords" (1 Tim. 6:15), and is "reign[ing] till He has put all enemies under His feet" (1 Cor. 15:15), this means that every ruler (or lord) is directly accountable to Christ Himself, Who is the abiding Ruler of the nations. This is why the Psalmist prophetically warns kings and judges of the earth to "kiss the Son lest He become angry with you and you perish in the way" (Psa. 2:10-12). This Scriptural framework is the essence of my postmillenial views. There are lots of places I could go from here. But I want to focus on the ministry of the "sword."

The fact that it is a sword that is being administered is one of the reasons a woman should not ordinarily hold political office. I.e., a sword doesn't ordinarily belong in a woman's hands. It belongs in a man's hands. But, again, I don't want to be negative about women in politics, or about Palin as a VP candidate, because the fact that a woman holds political office is by no means a reflection upon her! Rather, it is a reflection on all the men who should have stepped up to the plate to do their swordly-service to the King of kings, but either through abdication or cowardice (which amounts to the same thing) have not. So, I don't mean to imply (and don't think) that Ms. Palin is under-qualified or not adequate for her prospective office (or for that matter, any woman holding any political office). I simply think that it means - or possibly means - that God couldn't find a man good enough. And that's the shame. But, more, I think such a situation just might be a sign of God's judgment upon a nation.

Here's a Scriptural example of what I mean: We all know how Deborah and Barak were co-judges in Israel (Judges 4) in a time when "every man did what was right in his own eyes" (Judges 17:6). She was judging in the midst of God's judgment upon the children of Israel. They had done evil in the sight of the Lord and were being oppressed by a foreign people because of their evil (Judges 4.1-3). There is an aspect of Deborah's own rule that is a part of God's judgment in this setting. And it is not merely that she is reigning in a time when God's judgment was obviously upon the people, but there's also a hint of it when she calls Barak to use the sword, but he declines the duty and therefore forfeits the glory of victory. We have the shamefulness of this explicitly stated by Deborah herself (Judges 4.9). Even God's delivery of them by the "sword" of a woman suggests that Barak has shame, or at least, that he doesn't have the glory that he might have had as a man. He's not the hero he might have been.

But God is even more explicit in Isa. 3:12. Here, we see that God establishing women to rule over the children of Israel is an element of His judgment and curse upon Israel's disobedience.

There are other examples of this paradigm. God visited His fear upon the Egyptians and made them "like women" (Isa. 19:16). The same thing happened to Babylon (Jer. 50:37). The point in these passages is certainly not that it's shameful for women to be women, nor even that it's shameful for men to act like women - although that's what happens to the men of these nations. They are simply saying what's going to happen when God's fear comes upon these nations. But I think these passages assume that it will be men that comprise the Egyptian and Babylonian armies, not women. Otherwise, the text loses its force when it predicts they will become like women (women are already women and it is appropriate for them to fear like they fear).

All this to say, women are not warriors, though they certainly can be. It's just that, ordinarily (there's that word again), God doesn't make them this way. They are nurturers. Of course, there are some outstanding women warriors in history (Deborah is just one of many). But, ordinarily, they don't belong on the battlefield. Furthermore, if they end up wielding the sword, it could mean that either the nation is short on men, or, worse, the men of that nation won't do their duty, or even worse, God is judging that nation for its disobedience.

We all know McCain is seventy-two years of age. He appears to be pretty healthy, but because he's older, there's more of a possibility that he could die in office and pass the sword on to Palin. She would then be our "Commander in Chief," the highest ranking military officer of our land. That's the situation we must consider. But the precedent is worse than the possibility - that of heedlessly having a woman as the commander of our nation's army, not considering what that means for us, and not considering how out of whack such a situation really is, historically.

So, if women are ordinarily nuturers, what has the potential to happen when they assume political office? Well, they just might nurture rather than "judge." Then, the ministry of the sword begins to look like the administration of the home. In the home, a woman takes care of everyone. She cares for the children. She's usually the one most concerned about keeping everyone "safe." This is good and right and absolutely necessary. But such a mentality doesn't belong in the ministry of the sword. Because the sword is not about keeping people safe. A man can't be victorious in battle if his first concern is safety. His agenda must be to accomplish the mission, not to stay safe. And this means deliberately and knowingly placing his life in jeopardy for the sake of the mission. This is what a man is called to do. Of course, a woman is also called to live sacrificially, but if this means her taking up arms, then - generally speaking - things have probably already come to their end and the battle, by this point, is most likely lost.

We've already got an overweening concern for the safety of our soldiers in battle. Of course we should want them to stay safe and we should pray for this. But, when once a man goes to war, along with a request to God for his safety, we should be asking that God enable him to fight with courage and to obtain victory - even if it means he must die. If we don't want victory in spite of danger, then we shouldn't fight in the first place.

So, the thought I'm contemplating is whether or not women belong in the ministry of the sword. What does it mean for our nation when we thoughtlessly pursue such a course? Where are our men who have the sense enough to defend our women rather than putting them in the way of danger?

I certainly don't think such questioning suggests that Palin is wrong or that God is not leading her to assume such a leadership role. I just think we ought not follow the herd simply because we hear Evangeline the bell cow somewhere up ahead.

Church bells and muezzins

After the Muslims conquered Constantinople shortly before Columbus sailed the ocean-blue (1453), they forbad the ringing of church bells - probably so that the bells couldn't be used as a signal for an uprising. And thus, the jewel of Christendom came under dhimmitude. Replacing the sounds of church bells throughout the entire region where the gospel first conquered was the sound of the muezzin and his prayer calls.

This same dhimmitude is encroaching the Christian West with increasing success - even in your backyard. For years, in Hamtramck, Michigan, mosques have broadcast (with loudspeakers) the call to prayer, five times a day. Such a sound fills the air and covers the whole region. It's distressing that the culture of the Koran is becoming a characteristic of our own neighborhoods.

There are other characteristic sounds around here in Lafayette. I think not only of church bells, but also of police, ambulance and fire sirens (interesting word, that). In a real sense - both in mythology and in our communities - it is a death peal. And so the sounds of death, destruction and distress ring out through the city and wake me up at night (I live on a main thoroughfare). Such a mournful sound, though, is part of any culture, because death is ubiquitous.

Another sound is what I call the infernal thump of hip-hop music. It's not that I mind the music itself. But I am always annoyed when it becomes a public phenomenon. Because of its dominating character (and it's certainly played loudly in order to be shared), it leaves me without a choice but to submit to its sound. It drowns out thought, conversation, and any other beautiful sound. It offends elderly folk and it wakes up napping babies in every home by which it passes. But it happens to be a sound of our culture. It has, unfortunately, become characteristic.

Grumbling, rumbling, roaring and screaming shakes my windows and also shocks me out of slumber as Harley Davidsons and Suzukis belch their demonstrations of strength and mobility. There are lots of motorcycles around. And I like motorcycles. But the fact that they are deliberately designed for such noise displays (and that there's a market for such foolishness) makes me think that Sauron's moved his industrial machinations to Lafayette for a convenient takeover. And the question inevitably comes to mind, To whom does Lafayette belong?

Well, Lafayette, like every place, belongs to Christ. He owns property. He owns the world. Whole cultures owe Him their allegiance. And when every nation bows to Him, the cultures those nations produce will be beautiful to every sense, including the sense of hearing. I'm not suggesting that the sounds those cultures produce will be identical. God loves variety. But I am suggesting that it is part of the Christian agenda to beautify every area of life and, as such, to make it distinctively Christian. As such, I say, because beauty belongs to God. He thought of it. And the place of holiness is a beautiful place.

I think this change, this enculturation, will take place from the inside-out, as more Christians are born and more human institutions come under the dominion of Christ. But it follows that such a heart-transformation works itself out in the way we live our lives - on every level. And so, why not expect for the sounds of any Christian area to be recognizable as developing from a Christian culture?
Presently, there is only one mosque in Lafayette and it's on our college campus. It doesn't broadcast prayer calls (yet). But we can all be very assured that the geo-political agenda of Islam recognizes the symbolic importance of the public square, and that the muezzin's chant is coming to a mosque near you. Christians have historically recognized that Jesus' crowned rights must be claimed on the public square as well as in every heart. But our evangelical version of Christianity with its soft gnostic underbelly doesn't get this and, therefore, we no longer have a response to the threat of Islam. The truth is that, just like every individual, every king and every nation must choose its god. There is no such thing as separation of church and state. Perhaps ringing a church bell is both an act of Kingdom conquest which shakes the gates of hell and the declaration of a whole community's loyalty. The only response to Islamization is Christendom.

I sure would like our church to contribute to (and shape) the sounds of our culture with a beautiful-sounding church bell, ringing in morning and evening prayers. Our battle cries need to be in the air to compete with the sounds of the Muslim onslaught. Christ is the Lord of the Dance, not Allah, and the church ought to play the tune to which the culture dances.

Chess matters: honor

Tolkien sang a song in his school days that went something like, "Oftentimes defeat is splendid; in victory there can be shame; luck is good, the prize is pleasant, but the glory is in the game." That's nice to believe, especially if you have egalitarian ideals. We have a similar adage, "It's not whether you win or lose but how you play the game." ... I'm just not buying it, especially if that means not keeping score. First of all, if the "game" (whichever game) is considered as a closed system, I think the glory is in the victory. Secondly, I don't think you can play the game well if you're highest motive is not to win.

Now I want to take it all back. And that's because of my caveat, "if the game is considered as a closed system." Of course, we can't consider any game as a closed system with it's own boundaries any more than we can consider any individual life as a self-contained, self-authenticating existence. If we could, then we'd legitimately surrender any ideal of honor within the game to the object of victory and the ends would justify the means. Of course, this wouldn't mean we could cheat, because breaking the rules of a game disqualifies. However, there are ways to play any game in which the rules are followed but the victory is still shameful. And this can only be because the game is found within a larger context - that of a life; and the life is found within a larger context - God's story. And in God's story, the only means to the glory of victory is to play with honor. The "rules" of this supreme struggle are too fundamental to reality (and therefore, partly invisible) to be encoded within a rulebook. God requires of us more than any legislation can itemize. [This is not to suggest we can't legislate morality in the civil realm. I'm merely saying we can't originate goodness by legislation, and goodness is the only means to victory in the Great Struggle].

No life is self-authenticating. No game verbalizes all the rules that insures a winner's glory in the extra-game context. Every life only has meaning within the larger "story" of God. His is the story of a struggle, which ends with a great victory. Each life is also a struggle which may or may not participate in the victory of God. And each struggle within our lives is a miniature of the struggle of our lives . This is precisely why "how you play the game" matters. The principles of goodness and honor by which we obtain victory in the Great Struggle can't help but seep into, or rather, make up the fabric of, every sub-struggle, whether it be the struggle of our very lives or the struggles within our lives - even the "insignificant" ones, like a chess game.

There are some practical implications of this. On the one hand, we have this idea that any "on-field" fighting (e.g., football) is automatically bad. But one must defend oneself. A man must not back down, even if the "rules" of the mini-game forbid self-defense as "unsportsmanlike" - it may be for one, but not for the other. On the other hand, any game requires you to be competitive, fierce even. But, because it's a game, and therefore within the larger context with meta-rules of honor that seep in, we are not to consider our opponent as an enemy. And we certainly must not despise or hate him. We don't want our boys to be like Mike Tyson. There's never a context in which it's ok to want to eat someone's child. Hatred will not win the Great Struggle. Hatred loses, even though it may help win lesser struggles ("Don't give in to hate, Luke. It's the path to the dark side")! We want our boys to be gentlemen. Not all is fair in love and war.

What about kindness? Sure, absolutely. But to knock your football opponent on his ___ is not unkind. That's part of the game. You can't get mad about being on the receiving end of it, though you might feel shame. But how you deal with the shame of defeat (or of getting "faced") partly determines whether you victorious in the Greater Struggle. If you are humble and congratulate your opponent's minor intra-game victory, and then get up and knock him on his ___, there's more glory in the larger story for you than if you do it out of bitterness and resentment of your own shame. Which is the stronger person? the more honorable? the passionless one who can win with integrity in his soul.

In God's story "honor" wins. And the chess board is a great place to practice this. It's hard to be a gentleman when you're opponent is trash-talking (and means it). There is a way to be a "winner" even if you lose, or rather, there is an honorable way to lose a game, or even a war, which puts you in good stead to win the Great Struggle. And right now, I'm really tempted to talk about the Southern gentlemen who fought in the War of Northern Aggression.

No teenagers allowed.

We should not allow teenagers to exist. All teenagerism must be stamped out and eradicated. There should be no teenagers in the church of God. It's either boy or man, girl or woman. There is nothing in between. At least, that's the impression I get from the Scriptures, from multi-cultural experiences, and from history. Where did this notion of ˜adolescence' come from? There are theories floating around. Perhaps industrialism + property taxes have driven us from the land and, therefore, have driven children from a natural context wherein they can "safely" mature through work. Perhaps inefficient government education + the over-valuing of bureaucratic "licensing" has introduced a window of pseudo-adulthood into our children's lives. Maybe our faith in the psychobabble that children are innocent has caused us to romanticized childhood and equate "innocence" to "immaturity." Or maybe all this is an excuse for lazy fathers not to cultivate manhood and womanhood, preferring the titillating distraction to the sober numbering of our days.

Did you know that in Peru an eight year old girl can cook anything mother can cook? That a ten year old boy can run a farm is his father dies? That a five year old boy can lead a bull, by himself, across the mountains (I saw one)! Our boys are really good first person shooters. I'm not bad myself.

Elizabeth Elliot talks about "thresholds" that ought to be in place so that, when they are crossed, a boy can be called a man (see Mark of a Man). So what are some "thresholds" that we need to have in place? It's a difficult question. But I agree with Mrs. Elliot. I think that, as a church culture, we need to have such institutions. Right now, about the only things we've got are a driver's license, high school graduation, the right to vote, and college graduation. Better to have them be memorization of the Larger Catechism, building your first tractor (which a friend of mine's father made him do at age 14!), and killing and cleaning your first deer, then feeding the whole church with it. I don't know. But our boys (and girls) are floundering. I'm thirty-six, and I'm still floundering. Of course, I'm not married either, and I hear that marriage stabilizes a fellow. On the other hand, who wants to marry someone who's not stable?

"Home church"... Say what?

There is a prevalent phenomenon around here (and I assume around there, too) called the "Home Church." To label it as a "movement" would be to suggest it is a new idea. But it is something that has been with us from even before the Radical Reformers (e.g., Anabaptists), with sinful roots that reach even further back. I'm not speaking of the kind of church that meets in a house, like the early churches of Acts when public property was forbidden to institutions unauthorized by the Roman empire. I mean, rather, the practice where families renounce membership in any visible (local) church and substitute the corporate worship of God's people on the Lord's Day with their own family's worship. How did we get to this place in the history of God's church? On one hand, having a low view of the visible, institutional church fosters this idea that a family, as a family, could substitute their own worship for the worship of the corporate assembly. On the other hand, this idea can result from a hyper-covenantal view of the father's federal headship. Often, both of these perspectives drive this unBiblical and dangerous practice.

Poema: The Frog by John Bunyan

The frog by nature is both damp and cold,

Her mouth is large, her belly much will hold;

She sits somewhat ascending, loves to be

Croaking in gardens, though unpleasantly.

The hypocrite is like unto this frog,

As like as the puppy to the dog.

He is of nature cold, his mouth is wide

To chatter, and at goodness to deride.

He mounts his head as if he was above

The world, when yet 'tis that which has his love.

And though he seeks in churches for to croak,

He neither loves Jesus nor his yoke.

(Lessons from Nature: Poems for Boys & Girls, Gary and Wanda Sanseri, eds., 1998)

Chess matters: Stalemate!

I played Joe again yesterday. He won the first game. And in the second game, I had him from the get-go. But through the meanderings of our pieces, there came a point where we were pretty even. Then, I pulled out a great tactic and forked his rook and king with my bishop. It was "in the bag" from there on... almost.

The rest of the game was "routine." There was NO way he could win. With each move, he jokingly said, "I'll accept a draw." And I'd arrogantly say, "No way, I'm going to beat you." Then, in the blinding clouds of my exaltation, it happened...

Stalemate!

My glory was lost. The agony. We were both laughing, but his laugh was more authentic.

Alas, my pride blinded me and I'd become careless. And I re-learned (but will surely forget again) that humility is the only preventative for such an inglorious fall. Chess again demonstrates what is true of all of life - character matters.

(Re-match, tonight, 6p)

The Weight of Glory: Olympic Gold

I'm writing this AS Michael Phelps and the American swim team compete in the final event. And I can't help but think about the "glory of man," which is the heart of the Olympics. And, although I'm not a betting man, I'd like to place just one bet. I'd bet that Jesus could whip the tar out of Michael Phelps using any swim stroke you like.
No, Jesus wasn't much to look at the first time He was walking about the earth in man-feet (Isa. 53:2). There was nothing in Him that we should desire Him. He probably wasn't a good swimmer. Then again, who needs to swim when you can just walk? He may not have won any Olympic events... back then. But that was before the Resurrection.
Now, any glory that can be given to a man belongs, first, to THE Man. No man can have first place before Jesus, who is still a man. And I believe that part of the glory is that He is still growing in glory, as a man. As God, of course, He is perfect in glory. As a man, He is growing ever more glorious. When he was on earth, He was God and He was man. As God, He was omniscient. As man, He "grew" in wisdom. Still that way, but on the "other side" of His resurrection. Crazy, huh?
So, step aside, Michael Phelps. Jesus owns the topmost place at the podium, even though He's one-thousand, nine-hundred and seventy-nine years old (i.e., since His "regeneration," Cf. Mat. 19:28).

Dar al Islam... Constantinople saves western civilization

I appreciate what Robert Spencer and company are doing (www.jihadwatch.org). As far as visible threats go, there is nothing more dangerous than "true" Islam, for the world, our country, and Christian culture. This article highlights and important moment in the history of our efforts to defend our God-given property and our families and our Christian liberty against the onslaught of the world's most oppressive geo-political religion.

Men's Bible Study: should children visit the house of mourning?

For a while now, I've thought that our Friday morning men's Bible study has been the most productive and blessed aspect of my ministry here. Sitting about a round, corner table in Cracker Barrel, after eating breakfast and fellowshipping, we study through a book of the Bible, passage by passage. It took us about 2-1/2 years to get through Romans and about that same time again to get through John's gospel.

Now we are working through Ecclesiastes. I have found Jeffrey Meyer's commentary very helpful for our study. I think he has captured the essence of what the "Preacher" is saying: We are to live a thankful life and trust in God, who is the only One that can "shepherd the wind." Repeatedly, I've been astounded at the way God has blessed our study of the Word. Today was another blessing upon blessing.

This morning's text was Eccl. 7:1-4.

The Preacher sets forth a list of comparisons: good name > precious ointment, day of death > day of birth, house of mourning > house of feasting; sorrow > laughter. The latter three comparisons are to be seen in relation to the first. A good name and a precious ointment are both valuable to possess. The question here is not "do I have to choose one or the other?" Rather, if both can be had, then by all means, take both. However, recognize the superior value of the good name.

But how is the day of death better than the day of birth? It is not a question as to possession or even preference. It is a question of real value for a man. And I don't believe it's talking about your death or mine. Instead, it's talking about the day of death. And this is made plain by what follows. The day of death, the house of mourning, and sorrow are all part of the same event. Someone died. Our experience of a person's death is valuable to us. It betters our hearts (Eccl. 7:3b). Of course, the joy that I have upon the birth of someone I love betters my heart, too. But it doesn't increase my wisdom and understanding of my life upon this earth like death of someone I love.

We're not talking about pleasure here. Someone's death gives us no pleasure, while someone's birth gives us much pleasure. However, our experience of one is more valuable than our experience of the other. Death is an amazing commentary upon the state of things. It is shocking. Our revulsion of it, our anger and sadness that we feel at its "injustice" let us know that something is dreadfully wrong with the world. It is God's mighty commentary upon my life. I, too, will die. And the knowledge my mortality sobers me so that I can identify the problem. The locality of that problem is, of course, man's rebellion and sin, not God's malice or caprice. I can only discover this in the house of mourning. The house of feasting doesn't include this knowledge. Both are good houses to visit. But one is "better" than the other. One betters my heart in a way the other cannot.

This exegesis led us to a discussion about whether children should be brought to funerals. Our conclusion was unanimously in favor of it. True, there is some knowledge that is too heavy for a child to bear. But this is mostly sexual knowledge, perhaps even the knowledge of war. But the knowledge of death is something even a child must face. A child must mature before he can experience his sexuality, but even a child can die. And though bedroom doors may be closed, those whom children love are taken from them by death. Can we guard our children from this experience? Should we? Why? The only suggested answer is that it may be difficult knowledge for a child to bear. But how then can a child otherwise understand the cross of Christ? No, the knowledge of death is not too heavy for a child. Children, too, have the capacity to grieve (and amazing resilience). Rather, the house of death is an opportunity to instruct this child about his own mortality, about Jesus' death, about our hope in Jesus' resurrection and our own. To "shield" a child from the house of mourning for his happiness' sake is to keep that child a child. His heart may be "happier" for a while. But he will not be better. And God prefers our betterment to our happiness. For our deepest joy can only be had when we know the whole story. The resurrection can only be known when we learn death.

A Christian Aesthetic: Thesis

American Reformed folks are aesthetic relativists. Although I don't know enough about the philosophy of aesthetics to share my thoughts on this clearly or authoritatively, this has been one of my main contentions over the years. I think we can see this in several places. Look at our buildings. Perhaps one might suggest that plainness is a theological ideal. But plainness is not what I'm talking about. The most traditional, conservative presbyterian churches in Scotland, with their theology of plainness, far surpass our buildings in beauty. Listen to our music. Sure, there are exceptions. But in sophistication and sound, we fall short of the beauty of the past. However, falling short is not what I'm talking about. Rather, I'm talking about our philosophical and theological posturing with which we excuse and, even worse, promote ugliness or, at least, aesthetic minimalism.

Maybe this will make my point. Consider the visceral reaction against any suggestion that some music is "better" than other. I distinctly recall a conversation I had with a group of "Reformed" believers up in Minnesota during one of John Piper's conferences. I was trying to argue that some music used in public
worship is qualitatively superior to other "Christian" music. I made it very clear that I was not laying the foundation for the moral argument that we "ought, therefore" use the aesthetically superior music in our worship. I was simply saying some music is better than other. They, however, thought I was making an attack on their piety. Interestingly enough, the only one of that group who agreed with me was a man who was trained musically and had had many more years and a broader range of experience with music than the rest of us. And his agreement on this simple point was despite the conclusions we drew about the "ought" question.

Another experience I had was at a supposedly Reformed high school. I was teaching a Bible class and the question of aesthetic objectivity came up. I thought I'd illustrate my point with a simple example: Bach is "better than" Hendrix. I was amazed at the reaction and adamant denials. So, I put it up for a challenge. The boys in favor of Hendrix brought a sample of his best. I brought something of Bach's. In class the next day, we listened to both. When Hendrix played, everyone who'd never heard him (which was most) sneered and
guffawed at the suggestion that there was anything of quality there at all. It was like the emperor's new clothes. Now, that was their reaction. I had never denied Hendrix's "genius." I only said Bach was better. Then, I played Bach. A river of beauty flooded the room. Everyone's spirit melted. The Hendrix promoters were chagrined. I needed no further argument. Part of it was the stark contrast of hearing the beauty of one of Bach's cello concertos next to the raw chaos of Hendrix. Part of it may have been hearing something
so beautiful, to "out of place" there in an institutionalized setting, where beauty is rare. But certainly the heart of it was this - Bach's music was beautiful and that beauty had its own potency that convinced the ears of anyone who hasn't been brainwashed with the philosophy of aesthetic relativism.

So, although I think the best solution to our problem is simple - exposure to the truly beautiful. My solution to our thinking problem (and my blogging agenda on this subject) is a threefold thesis: 1) Beauty has its own value. 2) Beauty has no truth content. 3) Beauty is objective (and not merely "in the eye of the beholder"). Maybe we'll draw some helpful conclusions if these are established.

Meditation... Drawing near

St. Augustine said to this effect, "We are made for God. And our hearts are not quiet until we find rest in Him." Intimacy with God is what I need and crave. It is the craving beneath all other cravings, just like the pleasures at His right hand are those which are pictured for us within all other pleasures. But how do you get close to God? Because to have intimacy, you've got to get close. If that is what you set your heart to do just now, what would you do? Of course God is everywhere. But can you find Him by seeking? Paul indicates that God reveals Himself through all His creation so that, if He would, the unbeliever ought to be inspired to search for Him. But even if he did, his searching would be as one groping in the dark. And he couldn't find God even though He is near to each of us (Acts 17:27). But to His children, God says again and again, "search for Me and you will find Me" (Deut. 4:29; Prov. 8:17; Jer. 29:13; Mat. 7:7). God gives believers the assurance that if they seek, they will find.
Draw near to God and He will draw near to you (James 4:8). But how does one draw near? Where do you "go" to draw near?
There is a faithful emphasis within evangelicalism upon God's intimate and abiding presence with us, no matter where we are. When David sings Psalm 139:8-10, he is not referring merely to God's philosophical presence. Of course God is omnipresent; thus, Paul's comment that He is not very far from any of us. But David is referring to more. He's speaking of an intimate, favoring presence. No matter where you are, God is there loving you. So, it is true that you can "find God" wherever you go - in nature, in relationships, any place. And you should seek God in quiet (and noisy) places, if you want Him. I affirm this teaching and want to press it upon your heart and mine. But there's still more...

Among all the places where we find God, there is only one place where He gives us a material assurance of His presence - the Lord's Supper. Pause for a moment to reflect on the importance of material assurance. First, think of a young child who is going to sleep. A parent will often lie with the child until he falls asleep. Sleep, a place of peace and rest, is made easier for the child when he knows the parent is there. Often, as he falls asleep, the child will awaken briefly one or two times and find renewed assurance of the parents presence before going soundly to sleep. The child craves this assurance. But then, when the child is asleep, the parent departs. The child continues in peace and rests with the thought of the parent's presence, even though the parent is no longer there. What matters for the child's peace is the assurance of your presence. We need that assurance as humans. We need proximity, nearness. It is not good for man to be alone.
And man had proximity to God in the garden, before sin enstranged him from God and from his own wife (and thus clothing became an actualized metaphor for enstrangment), though she was of his very bone. And being cast out from God's presence, no longer able to eat from God's tree-table, man was exiled.
The story of man is his insatiable, and yet unattainable, craving for communion. An illustration of this in contemporary America - Everyone wants to get married. No one can stay married. We pine for the right one. We joke about the ball and chain. Major businesses are fueled both by our desire for communion and our inability to maintain it. The garden spits us out. Yet we long to return.
The story of God is His yearning to dwell with a holy people, and the consequent necessities He endured to obtain this end. And the illustration of this is the bread and the wine. Even upon His first distribution, Jesus confesses His deep longing, "With fervent desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer..." (Luke 22:15). And He still yearns for intimacy with us. So says James, "The Spirit who dwells in us yearns jealously" (Jas. 4:6).
So, how do we make it back to the garden? How do we draw near to God? How does God satisfy His yearning? How does He draw near to us? Without denying God's continual and ubiquitous intimacy, I continue to be amazed at what God has done (does!) for us in the Lord's Supper. There, we have the material assurance that a child's faith craves. And thus we have the peace of knowing His presence with us. There, God lets us eat of the tree-table. And nothing is more intimate that partaking of God. There is no nearness nearer than ingestion. It is an actualized metaphor.
Have you ever been stricken with the longing for the experience of John (John 13:23)? To be able to rest your head upon the bosom of Jesus? What is this desire? It is a desire to be close to the Him. But more, we long for the assurance of His proximity. Just to be near and to have the sensibility of that nearness. Well, we have that nearness and we have God's promise of that nearness (Draw near to me and I will draw near to you), but He gives us more. Like a parent gives to His the child who craves both rest and nearness, He gives us what He gave John - the sensible assurance of His presence. We need to hold the bread and eat like a child needs to see and feel his parent's presence. What matters is the presence. What assures us is the touch. And yet it is indeed a real partaking. When we taste, we really do see (Psa. 34:8). We are therein assured of the intimacy for which we crave.
Though the Scriptures plainly teach that God personally reveals Himself through all that He has made (Rom. 1:19, 20), so that those who see through new eyes might find God throughout the whole creation, there is a "coming to the garden" sort of drawing near. And that is precisely what our holy God has arranged for a holy people. His worshipers "draw near" when they come to His house for corporate, public worship (Psa. 73:28, where the answer to the psalmist's dilemma is found in the sanctuary [v17]; Eccl. 5:1; Isa. 29:13, where God rebukes His people for drawing near with lips only; Isa. 45:20; Heb. 10:22, whose whole emphasis is upon the New Covenant assembly). This is a healthy supplement for us evangelicals who think of drawing near to God as a strictly private affair. It is a rebut to those who say "I don't find God in church." Quite the contrary, we who long for the intimacy that John experienced at the supper can have that in a way that can't be had outside of the called assembly. For in the garden, there is the tree. And at the tree-table, there is Jesus fervently desiring. Taste and see His yearning... and be satisfied with His peace (John 20:26).

Meditation... Firstfruits

• This is this season's first bloom of my Gardenia plant. I always think of Romans 8:23 whenever I see a first bloom of a plant or the first ripened fruit of a tree. In this passage, we see three "groanings." First in vs22, the whole creation groans with birthpangs, awaiting the birthing of the sons of God. Next, in vs23, we who have the firstfruits of the Spirit groan within ourselves, awaiting the redemption of our bodies. Finally, in v26, the Holy Spirit groans with intercessions on our behalf according to God's will. I believe we are to see the Spirit as a "nursemaid" of sorts, aiding in the birthing of our new man. Already, we have the firstfruits of His intercession within us. There is new life in us and it is precisely the Resurrection Life of Jesus himself who already has the new Human body which is paradigmatic for the rest of those connected to His vine. In 1 Corinthians 15:20, Paul calls Jesus the firstfruits of the resurrection. The image here is that of a tree or vine or some other plant. That tree already has the first bloom or the first fruit ripened upon it. What does that mean? It means that a whole host of others is just about to burst forth upon it as well! Jesus is the first fruit of a vine of which we are all part. He has already been "born again" as the New Human. We have His same "sap" in our own bodies, already. The Spirit He has given us has begun the birthing of the New Man within us. And it is certain - just as certain as the rest of the fruit follows upon the ripening of the firstfruit - that our birthing process will become complete and we will have completely "ripened" and resurrected bodies, like unto Jesus' own body.


• But there is more. Notice I'm going through the text backwards. First, the Spirit is our nursemaid groaning along with us, bringing the new life to birth within us. We are already new creatures, but we will not see the completion of how we are being formed until the Spirit brings us through our death into Christ's glorious resurrection. Second, we ourselves are groaning within ourselves until the "being made new, day by day" (2 Corinthians 4:16) is complete. And we are doing this groaning along with the rest of creation. That is, just as the Spirit is our nursemaid, bring the new Man to birth within us, so we are creation's nursemaids, bringing to birth God's new creation by our intercessions as they are empowered by the Spirit. This is part of what it means to be a kingdom of priests. Priests intercede. That is our job. But what are we interceding for? We are interceding with the words and heart of Christ - "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." And, like Christ, we intercede with our lives, becoming living sacrifices so that Christ's sacrifice might be "filled up" (Colossians 1:24) to the fullest measure in this earth. The cross, that is the intercession. And as we take up that same cross, we join in Christ's great intercession. Thus, in our very lives, our very bodies, all of creation is dragged through death into the glorious resurrection, just as we, in Christ, are dragged through our deaths into His New Life.

Chess matters: Character matters (self-control)

Our church had a homeschool co-op that met for a while a couple of years ago. During the co-op, we took advantage of one of our grandfathers' chess-playing ability and had him come in to give the older students lessons. I had already been playing chess (rather, I knew how to move the pieces). But Mr. Stanford really knew the game. He gave five basic principles that every serious chess player knows. Later, I'll tell you what those are.

The interesting thing about chess is, as with any human endeavor, character is often the determining factor. And this is why chess lessons were valuable for our homeschoolers. How does this work? One example is the quality of patience. To play according to the principles requires great patience. Younger, inexperienced players most often lose because of lack of patience. In a moment of aggression, they ignore the principles. Their opponent defends himself carefully, and eventually gains the upper hand. Then it's too late for our young impatient.

There are other character traits that come out on the chess board, too. And we'll look at them later. But I can't put too much emphasis on the quality of patience, which in essence is what the Scriptures know as "self-control." Self-control, like every fruit of the Spirit, translates readily into any situation. If a young boy (or girl) "practices" self-control on the chess board, this should benefit them in other circumstances as well. And thus, a game of chess can provide an opportunity to instruct and remind your young man to practice self-control.

A Christian Aesthetic

Beauty cannot survive a hyper-pragmatic view of reality. It is choked out. And where beauty dies, goodness departs. Any "truth" that stands stalwart amid such ruins has no glory. And one ought not desire it.

Sanctified Festival... an edible missiology, 1

Like many folks, I've been wrestling with the idea of Christian festival... Not just the "why" and "how" but the "how it fits." I've been rethinking our EE missiology. Sure, I could go door to door, and have before. But my spirit withers in the face of artificiality. I'm thinking you can't love someone you don't share land with. And you can't love someone you can't feed. I feel this missiological seed growing in my brain. I want to see God give us joy as we make festival. And I want to see that joy spill over into our neighborhood. And I want this "spill over" to begin with the literal spilling over of food in such a way that it becomes a "real" metaphor for us becoming living sacrifices, thereby assuming our priestly role as intercessors.



For this year's International Festival, I built a "party wagon" to make our festival experience more fun. Three kids can ride in a detachable seat. (Pictured are the McBride children - LtoR, Eli, Charis, and Isabella). It holds a 100sq.ft. canopy, cooler, and five+ chairs. It's well-balanced on bicycle tires and so it's easy to "drive." The handle breaks down (Bill McBride's holding it in the picture). We had a blast this year. The kid's loved riding and we were the envy of the crowd. Everyone was pointing and smiling. Many passersby commented to the effect that we were "master festival-goers."

Chess matters

I've been playing chess over the past couple of years. Trying to learn
the game and become a little more competitive. This is my good buddy,
Joe Diaz. He'd love you to guess his age. We play fairly often and
are closely matched.


There's a chess club in Lafayette. I'm not a member, but I know some
of the guys. I'm hoping they'll take me up on my offer that they use
the church for some of their chess tourneys. Who knows how God will
use such occasions for their introduction to the Church and to the
Faith? Already, through those relations, one of the chess players has
visited.