Enough

I attended a Seder dinner here at Moody last week. I'm so glad I did- I feel like I understand the Lord's Supper and of course the Passover so much better now. So many things about it were just very cool. There's one part I keep thinking about, though.

There's a word in Hebrew, "dayenu" (basically pronounced "die-AY-new"), that means "It would have been enough". In this section, the host of the Seder reads a series of phrases, and after each one everyone else repeats, "Dayenu!"

If He had only rescued us from Egypt, but had not punished the Egyptians,

(It would have been enough.)

If He had only punished the Egyptians, but had not destroyed their gods,

(It would have been enough.)

If He had only destroyed their gods, but had not slain their firstborn,

(It would have been enough.)

And so on. For a Messianic Seder it goes all the way to:

If He had only given us eternal life, but had not given us abundant life,

(It would have been enough.)

If He had only given us abundant life, but had not called us to serve Him,

(It would have been enough.)

If He had only called us to serve Him, but had not indwelt us with His Spirit,

(It would have been enough.)

If He had only indwelt us with His Spirit, but had not promised us rewards,

(It would have been enough.)

Now here's my favorite part. The last line.

Every time it seems the Lord has done enough for us, He always does more.

All I can say is, Amen.

Stress and Philosophy

I've been wound pretty tightly lately. Nothing particularly worth mentioning- I'm just a college student, and there are always times when the various stressors of life seem to meet up and talk you over, and decide to all attack at once. I've had lots to do, lots to think over, and not lots of sleep.

That all changed pretty quickly. Not that there aren't still things to think over. But the homework stress has gone down tremendously with the turning in of a paper this morning, the opportunity for sleep over the next week looks promising, and I'm going home for Easter weekend in three days.

It's funny. You would expect that when everything that's been stressing you out suddenly disappears, you'd feel light and relaxed. But I don't.

Instead, I feel similar to the way you feel when you've run a lot- say a mile, for those of you who (like me) are not runners. You push yourself to keep going for that mile mark without walking, and you do it! Your immediate instinct is to stop, or to instantly slow to a walk. You're done. You've accomplished what you're trying to do. But it doesn't work that way. If you just stop like that, your insides seize up and breathing isn't fun and your entire body is just out of rhythm. It wants to keep running. You have to slow down gradually.

I guess life is like that, too. When you just stop, you seize up and just feel kind of twisted and ill inside. You want to keep stressing over something. I'm not sure what the "life" parallel is to slowing down gradually. But for now, I'm going to take a nap.

A final thought: In my philosophy class today we talked about Friedrich Nietzsche. He's the guy who said "God is dead. Man has killed him." He's basically of the opinion that Christianity destroys everything. And unfortunately, a lot of his philosophy makes sense. When someone mentioned that at the end of the lecture, my professor said something that really resonated with me. He said that we don't necessarily have to deny everything that pagan philosophers said. Often their observations about the world and humanity are correct. But we don't have a God who is bound by the systems of the world. He came lowly and contrite, and He overcame anyway. So even though these people are trying to make God obsolete or powerless or nonexistent… all they really do is give us more reasons to praise Him.

Very cool.

Time to sleep now.

The Power of the Spoken Word

Jun 29, 2010. I am standing in a room with 6,000 believers at an EFCA national youth conference, and I am tired both physically and emotionally. I feel cold. I am enjoying myself, but simply not able to connect on an emotional level. Then as a part of the worship service, the man on stage asks us to recite together what the people in Revelation say to praise God. Thousands of voices mumble in sync.

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts; the whole earth is filled with His glory.

“Louder,” says the man.

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts! The whole earth is filled with His glory!

“Louder!”

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts!!! The whole earth is filled with His glory!!!

This time he doesn’t need to tell us to be louder. Something in my heart has ruptured, and although ninety seconds ago I was about as passionate as a stone, no more. Suddenly I am overwhelmed, and large, hot tears are streaming down my face, which is tilted towards the ceiling, my arms outstretched though I do not remember consciously raising them.

HOLY, HOLY, HOLY IS THE LORD, GOD OF HOSTS- THE WHOLE EARTH IS FILLED WITH HIS GLORY!!!!!

~*~

There is something about proclaiming aloud the truth of who God is that makes Him seem more real. The spoken word is laced with power. It brings density and glory to my vision of Him, not seen and yet perceived. He has weight. And I am moved.

That night last June is a perfect example- but then, so are the few minutes I spent praying with some brothers at the beginning of New Testament Survey class this morning. As we prayed over an ill professor and the school’s financial situation, our were filled with phrases of praise and truth, thanking God for what He has done and declaring Him to be loving, just, and powerful. And though we were sleepy and school-minded, those words are powerful and engaging.

~*~

I am on spring tour with the Women’s Concert Choir. In between songs, girls step up to the microphone to recite verses of scripture from memory- from the heart. The words come to life in a way they never have before, and when I read the verses for myself I hear their voices ringing in my head. Rachel says, “But I will heal them,” and I shiver, and my arms are all over in goosebumps. Sarah says, “It is done! I am the Alpha and Omega!” and I cannot help but grin. Kirsten says, “Cast down, but not destroyed.” and I feel strengthened.

~*~

There is something about hearing scripture recited- not read impersonally and stumblingly, but vocalized from the hidden places of the heart where it has been stored and meditated on- that brings is to life and sharpens it to pierce the very soul.

It reminds me of reading Shakespeare. On the page it is like a puzzle, requiring thought to work through. It was a mental exercise, filled with themes and figures of speech, appreciated for it’s inherent genius but not on an emotional level. But oh, the difference when it is performed! On stage or screen, from memory with emotion and body language, every obscure metaphor and passionate speech comes to life.

I have found scripture to be the same way. On the page, scripture is full of meaning and truth and power and goodness. But recited, it is full of Meaning and Truth and Power and Goodness.

~*~

I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth

and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord

who was conceived by the Holy Spirit;

born of the virgin Mary;

suffered under Pontius Pilate;

was crucified, dead, and buried.

The third day He rose again from the dead.

He ascended into heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty.

From thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit

the holy catholic Church

the communion of saints

the forgiveness of sins

the resurrection of the body

and the life everlasting.

Amen.

The Apostle’s Creed. A large part of my life this semester. The end to every choir concert; the beginning to every Christianity and Western Culture I class each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 11:00 am.

~*~

There is something about together declaring belief and hope in the Most High God that unites a body, in Christ and to Christ. It is solidifying. It strengthens one’s concept of what exactly is meant by “I believe”, by sheer repetition and vocabulary.

Sitting in chapel as I think about this (as these thoughts are being composed on the back of a to-do list), if I close my eyes I am very aware of the presence of the people on either side of me. They are solid, dense, each a thick and heavy mass of connotation and identity.

Why, then, is my perception of the presence of God more akin to a vague mist, everywhere but wispy?

God should be the densest, the most REAL.

Creeds and rituals may sound “too Catholic”. But if they bring a proper density to my perception of God Almighty, they are more than worth my time.

Because there is power in the spoken word.

Beautiful Diversity

The sermon series at my church in Chicago right now is “The Next 10”, a look at what we want our piece of the Body to become over the next ten years. One week in particular got me really excited (ask my roommate- she had to listen to me talk about it to everyone for the next few days): “By God’s Grace We Aim to Be a Diverse but Unified Church.” The actual sermon can be heard here (http://www.edgebapt.com/media.php?pageID=5) but I’m going to use my notes (which ended up in paragraphs rather than in bullets) to recount what I got so excited about.

…

This is a Biblical history of diversity.

Old Testament.

In the beginning, God created one people group: united in language, descent, culture, and purpose. To be one and fill the earth with that one-ness, reflecting God’s image…

And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth…” (Genesis 1)

… but the Fall tarnished that purpose.

… and to dust you shall return… (Genesis 3)

Instead of scattering and filling the earth, man came together to avoid being dispersed. Instead of seeking God’s glory, they sought their own. So God confused their language.

And from there the Lord dispersed them over the face of all the earth. (Genesis 11)

This was the beginning of the nations. It was a judgment… but it was also a grace. God called one man, Abram, to make His own great, blessed nation- and to bear the seed that will bless the world.

And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you… and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed. (Genesis 12)

For Israel, God created a bit of an incubator in the midst of a diverse and sinful world. He sanctified them, set them apart. A nation by definition requires a people, a land, and a law. So He gave them, His people, a Land and a Law.

You shall therefore keep all my statutes and all my rules and do them, that the land where I am bringing you to live may not vomit you out… I am the Lord your God, who has separated you from the peoples. (Leviticus 20)

All of this is done to one day draw back the rest of the earth.

And many nations shall join themselves to the Lord in that day, and shall be My people… (Zechariah 2)

New Testament.

Finally, Jesus arrived! The seed through which all the world would be blessed.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. (John 3)

God calls all the world to repent and believe in the gospel.

…a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Him… (Ephesians 1)

Jesus said that the gospel will be proclaimed in all nations and exhorts His disciples to go and make more disciples in all the earth (Matthew 28; Acts 1).

The Holy Spirit soon followed. At His advent the disciples proclaimed God, each of their listeners hearing in his own language.

This is a monumental event. This is the first time since Babel that the people have been together, united by space and understanding.

Parthians and Medes and Elamites and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia, Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt, and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabians—we hear them telling in our own tongues the mighty works of God. (Acts 2)

Peter had his visions about eating unclean animals, representing the new cleanliness of the Gentiles, and protested at first. But God said, “Ohhhhh no—things have changed—what I call clean is clean!” (Acts 10)

So Peter began to reach out to the Gentiles.

God even sent an angel to prepare them for his coming. The Jews had been set apart, guarded by the Law, but now things are different.

There is no longer Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3)

And what will happen in the end? What does all of this come to?

A multitude. From every tribe. Every tongue. Every nation. All giving praise to “our God” –

Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen. (Revelation 7)

—inheriting the New Jerusalem, dwelling with God, in unity, just like the original. Just like in the Garden… but, dare I say, better.

And the city has no need of a sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of the Lord gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb. By its light the nations will walk… (Revelation 21)

God’s plan included diversity. It will be even better at the end because of the multi-everything-hodge-podge of people who had NOTHING in common and now have EVERYTHING in common, a forever marker of God’s grace and His plan to bring His people to Him.

I think it’s beautiful.

Still, Small Wind

Sitting in a hammock on the Houghton roof at 9:00 on the first really warm evening of the spring, looking out over the city with pen in hand and journal on my lap, my bare feet brushing the cool stone tiles and a gentle breeze wrapping its way around me.... it's easy to believe, in such moments, that God was in a still, small wind.

More blogs to come when I have time. I have lots scribbled on various bits of paper, waiting to be polished and typed.