Monday, November 30, 2009
Tanenbaum 2009
This is the 2009 Jackson Family Christmas Tree. We think it is our best tree ever! Of course - we say that every year. - We hope your Thanksgiving went well and you are as excited as we are about Christmas this year. If you are in the Cumming area over the holidays, be sure to join us for a service at NewSong Church.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Surprised By Joy
This Sunday is November 22nd. Ask almost anyone you meet who died on that day and they’ll correctly answer John F. Kennedy (on November 22, 1963). But someone else died that same exact day; someone who I believe was greater in God’s eyes than the “Prince of Camelot.” His name was Clive Staples Lewis, better known as C.S. Lewis, or simply “Jack” to his family and closest friends. In a scenario eerily similar to Farah Fawcett’s death earlier this year, which was totally overshadowed Michael Jackson’s passing on the same day, Lewis’ death went virtually unnoticed as the world was stunned by the assassination of our thirty-fifth president.
Even though his death went largely unnoticed by the public, death has been no hindrance to C. S. Lewis' career. His fame continues to grow as new generations of skeptics and believers alike are introduced to his clear and convincing arguments for Christianity (Mere Christianity), his humorous but insightful narratives (Screwtape Letters, The Great Divorce, A Grief Observed), and, most recently, moviegoers have been introduced to Lewis’ work through the Chronicles of Narnia movies. I recently reread all seven of the short Narnia books and was again thrilled by the ways Lewis reveals deep spiritual truths in engaging stories reminiscent of J.R.R. Tolkien’s work.
The similarities with Tolkien’s work are not coincidental. Lewis was a contemporary of Tolkien and the two were actually close friends. In fact, it was a conversation with Tolkien that helped Lewis move a little further along the way in his journey from atheism to faith.
Lewis was raised an Anglican, but was only nine years old when his mother died of cancer. Shortly after her death, Lewis' father sent him and his brother Warren off to boarding school. It was during this time that Lewis decided he wanted nothing to do with a God who could be so cruel as to take his “mum.” Lewis, an extremely intelligent man, became an atheist and eventually an Oxford Don (professor) teaching English literature.
So how did this philosopher-cum-intellectual, this man who wrote over fifty books, some of which were penned as a youthful atheist, become a Christian? Lewis describes his journey of conversion in his spiritual autobiography Surprised by Joy. Lewis claims that at the time of his conversion he was "the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England." He describes his passage from atheist to Christian in words and images that are familiar to many of us: The joy of childhood which gave way to the harsh realities of the adult world, followed by a rigorous and intense investigation of competing truth claims, followed by being Surprised by Joy with a child-like faith again.
There’s a lesson for those of us who are too educated or too modern to accept the claims of Christianity. As an atheist, Lewis was unafraid to ask the difficult questions. Lewis’ conversion process was a long road that involved lots of reading and thinking (and eventually praying), meeting and talking with mentors, and gathering data from a variety of sources. Finally, on September 28, 1931, at age thirty-two, Lewis was… “riding to the Whipsnade Zoo in the sidecar of Warren’s motorcycle. When we set out I did not believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and when we reached the zoo I did." Like John Wesley's heart which was "strangely warmed," something happened on that 40 mile motorcycle ride, and Lewis simply knew he now believed.
Today God is still using this reluctant convert’s legacy to populate the Kingdom of God. Lewis’ faith journey and conversion are certainly unusual, but it also contains echoes that I’m guessing are familiar to some of us. What happened on that motorcycle ride to the Whipsnade Zoo? I’m not sure, but my guess is it has something to do with a conversation Jesus had with another smart man one night when he said, “Just as you can hear the wind and can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going, so you can’t explain how people are born of the Spirit (John 3:8). Where are you on your spiritual journey? Can you feel the gentle winds of the Spirit blowing? Don’t be afraid of the questions. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Just know that the destination is sure; and enjoy the ride…
Even though his death went largely unnoticed by the public, death has been no hindrance to C. S. Lewis' career. His fame continues to grow as new generations of skeptics and believers alike are introduced to his clear and convincing arguments for Christianity (Mere Christianity), his humorous but insightful narratives (Screwtape Letters, The Great Divorce, A Grief Observed), and, most recently, moviegoers have been introduced to Lewis’ work through the Chronicles of Narnia movies. I recently reread all seven of the short Narnia books and was again thrilled by the ways Lewis reveals deep spiritual truths in engaging stories reminiscent of J.R.R. Tolkien’s work.The similarities with Tolkien’s work are not coincidental. Lewis was a contemporary of Tolkien and the two were actually close friends. In fact, it was a conversation with Tolkien that helped Lewis move a little further along the way in his journey from atheism to faith.
Lewis was raised an Anglican, but was only nine years old when his mother died of cancer. Shortly after her death, Lewis' father sent him and his brother Warren off to boarding school. It was during this time that Lewis decided he wanted nothing to do with a God who could be so cruel as to take his “mum.” Lewis, an extremely intelligent man, became an atheist and eventually an Oxford Don (professor) teaching English literature.
So how did this philosopher-cum-intellectual, this man who wrote over fifty books, some of which were penned as a youthful atheist, become a Christian? Lewis describes his journey of conversion in his spiritual autobiography Surprised by Joy. Lewis claims that at the time of his conversion he was "the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England." He describes his passage from atheist to Christian in words and images that are familiar to many of us: The joy of childhood which gave way to the harsh realities of the adult world, followed by a rigorous and intense investigation of competing truth claims, followed by being Surprised by Joy with a child-like faith again.
There’s a lesson for those of us who are too educated or too modern to accept the claims of Christianity. As an atheist, Lewis was unafraid to ask the difficult questions. Lewis’ conversion process was a long road that involved lots of reading and thinking (and eventually praying), meeting and talking with mentors, and gathering data from a variety of sources. Finally, on September 28, 1931, at age thirty-two, Lewis was… “riding to the Whipsnade Zoo in the sidecar of Warren’s motorcycle. When we set out I did not believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and when we reached the zoo I did." Like John Wesley's heart which was "strangely warmed," something happened on that 40 mile motorcycle ride, and Lewis simply knew he now believed.
Today God is still using this reluctant convert’s legacy to populate the Kingdom of God. Lewis’ faith journey and conversion are certainly unusual, but it also contains echoes that I’m guessing are familiar to some of us. What happened on that motorcycle ride to the Whipsnade Zoo? I’m not sure, but my guess is it has something to do with a conversation Jesus had with another smart man one night when he said, “Just as you can hear the wind and can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going, so you can’t explain how people are born of the Spirit (John 3:8). Where are you on your spiritual journey? Can you feel the gentle winds of the Spirit blowing? Don’t be afraid of the questions. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Just know that the destination is sure; and enjoy the ride…
Monday, November 9, 2009
Hope
There’s a great line in the classic Christmas movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life” where Clarence the angel is summoned to help a troubled human. “Is he sick?” Clarence asks. “No, it’s worse than being sick,” the head angel replies, “he’s discouraged.” My guess is some of you reading this today are discouraged so I thought I would write about the antidote to discouragement, which is hope.
What is hope? Where does it come from? How do you get it? Turns out the word has quite a storied history. In Greek mythology, hope was personified as Elpis, the spirit (daimona) of hope. She along with the other daimones were trapped in a jar by Zeus and entrusted to the care of Pandora, the first woman. When Pandora opened the jar all of the spirits escaped except for Elpis. Without hope to accompany all their troubles, humanity was soon filled with despair. It was a great relief when Pandora returned to her jar and let out hope as well. Elpis was usually depicted as a young woman carrying flowers in her arms. Her opposite was Moros, spirit of hopelessness and doom (where we get our English word, “morose”).
The nineteenth century philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche had a more cynical take on this Greek legend, complaining that Zeus “did not want man to throw his life away, no matter how much the other evils might torment him, but rather to go on letting himself be tormented anew. To that end, he [Zeus] gives man hope. In truth, it is the most evil of evils because it prolongs man's torment.”
Like the word we’ve been studying so much these “Forty Days,” “love,” the term “hope” has been cheapened by the ways we use it so loosely. We say things like, “I hope it doesn’t rain today,” or “I hope my car starts this morning,” or “I hope the Falcons win on Sunday.” “I hope. I hope. I hope.”
The dictionary defines hope several ways, the most common of which is that hope is “the feeling that something good will happen.” The act of hoping is to, “wish for something with the desire that the wish will be fulfilled.” The words “feeling” and “wish” are indefinite and vague words, but this definition of “hope” exemplifies the understanding most people have of hope as “wishful thinking.”
Thankfully, the Bible puts “hope” in a totally different light. Far from being something we “wish for,” biblical hope is a “confident expectation of something good in the future.” Hope, then, is not simply an emotion, attitude, or a feeling. It is a confidence that literally defines us. Biblical hope not only desires something good for the future; it expects it to happen. And it not only expects it to happen; it is confident that it will happen. There is a moral certainty that the good we expect and desire will occur. And that moral certainty leads us to action and, in time, to faith.
Secular hope is often passive in the sense of being a wish; often against rational belief that the thing wished for will actually occur. Biblical hope, on the other hand, is active as a plan or idea, and is usually accompanied by persistent, personal action to execute the plan or prove the idea. Consider a prisoner of war who never gives up hope for escape and, against the odds, plans and accomplishes that very thing. By contrast, consider another prisoner who simply wishes for freedom, but without any genuine hope it will ever occur. Planning and action are useless. In time this prisoner will eventually give up all hope of freedom (if they, in fact, had “hope” to begin with).
The New Testament declares “hope” to be an absolute, a guarantee without a doubt meaning, “to expect or anticipate with pleasure.” For instance in Romans 5:2 Paul writes, “By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” We rejoice in the glory of God, not with uncertainty but with joyful anticipation — guaranteed. Or consider Colossians 1:5: “For the hope that is stored up for you in heaven and that you have already heard about in the word of truth the gospel.” The Hope of Heaven is not a maybe — but an absolute and definite guarantee by the Word of the Truth of the Gospel.
Now that we’ve defined hope, where does it come from? By now you’ve probably figured out that hope like this can only come from God. God is the source and the object of our hope. Without God we have no hope and life is meaningless, a “chasing after the wind” to use the immortal words of Solomon.
How do you get this hope? Perhaps that is not quite as clear. My personal belief is that the answer about how to appropriate the hope God makes available to us is simply this: Focus your thoughts on God, and not on your problems. As has been pointed out several times in our current series, we have a tendency to turn into that which we focus on the most. If we stare at our problems, our disappointments, and our defeats all the time, they will quickly overwhelm us. If, on the other hand, we focus on God, our mountains will soon turn into molehills. Don’t focus on your need. Don’t focus on your lack. Don’t focus on your problem. Focus on God. Where does your hope come from? Hope comes from Him. Be encouraged today. Let hope be reborn in your heart; hope has a name: Jesus Christ. Ask Him to come into your life anew today (or for the first time!) and hope will be born in you!
What is hope? Where does it come from? How do you get it? Turns out the word has quite a storied history. In Greek mythology, hope was personified as Elpis, the spirit (daimona) of hope. She along with the other daimones were trapped in a jar by Zeus and entrusted to the care of Pandora, the first woman. When Pandora opened the jar all of the spirits escaped except for Elpis. Without hope to accompany all their troubles, humanity was soon filled with despair. It was a great relief when Pandora returned to her jar and let out hope as well. Elpis was usually depicted as a young woman carrying flowers in her arms. Her opposite was Moros, spirit of hopelessness and doom (where we get our English word, “morose”).
The nineteenth century philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche had a more cynical take on this Greek legend, complaining that Zeus “did not want man to throw his life away, no matter how much the other evils might torment him, but rather to go on letting himself be tormented anew. To that end, he [Zeus] gives man hope. In truth, it is the most evil of evils because it prolongs man's torment.”
Like the word we’ve been studying so much these “Forty Days,” “love,” the term “hope” has been cheapened by the ways we use it so loosely. We say things like, “I hope it doesn’t rain today,” or “I hope my car starts this morning,” or “I hope the Falcons win on Sunday.” “I hope. I hope. I hope.”
The dictionary defines hope several ways, the most common of which is that hope is “the feeling that something good will happen.” The act of hoping is to, “wish for something with the desire that the wish will be fulfilled.” The words “feeling” and “wish” are indefinite and vague words, but this definition of “hope” exemplifies the understanding most people have of hope as “wishful thinking.”
Thankfully, the Bible puts “hope” in a totally different light. Far from being something we “wish for,” biblical hope is a “confident expectation of something good in the future.” Hope, then, is not simply an emotion, attitude, or a feeling. It is a confidence that literally defines us. Biblical hope not only desires something good for the future; it expects it to happen. And it not only expects it to happen; it is confident that it will happen. There is a moral certainty that the good we expect and desire will occur. And that moral certainty leads us to action and, in time, to faith.
Secular hope is often passive in the sense of being a wish; often against rational belief that the thing wished for will actually occur. Biblical hope, on the other hand, is active as a plan or idea, and is usually accompanied by persistent, personal action to execute the plan or prove the idea. Consider a prisoner of war who never gives up hope for escape and, against the odds, plans and accomplishes that very thing. By contrast, consider another prisoner who simply wishes for freedom, but without any genuine hope it will ever occur. Planning and action are useless. In time this prisoner will eventually give up all hope of freedom (if they, in fact, had “hope” to begin with).
The New Testament declares “hope” to be an absolute, a guarantee without a doubt meaning, “to expect or anticipate with pleasure.” For instance in Romans 5:2 Paul writes, “By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” We rejoice in the glory of God, not with uncertainty but with joyful anticipation — guaranteed. Or consider Colossians 1:5: “For the hope that is stored up for you in heaven and that you have already heard about in the word of truth the gospel.” The Hope of Heaven is not a maybe — but an absolute and definite guarantee by the Word of the Truth of the Gospel.
Now that we’ve defined hope, where does it come from? By now you’ve probably figured out that hope like this can only come from God. God is the source and the object of our hope. Without God we have no hope and life is meaningless, a “chasing after the wind” to use the immortal words of Solomon.
How do you get this hope? Perhaps that is not quite as clear. My personal belief is that the answer about how to appropriate the hope God makes available to us is simply this: Focus your thoughts on God, and not on your problems. As has been pointed out several times in our current series, we have a tendency to turn into that which we focus on the most. If we stare at our problems, our disappointments, and our defeats all the time, they will quickly overwhelm us. If, on the other hand, we focus on God, our mountains will soon turn into molehills. Don’t focus on your need. Don’t focus on your lack. Don’t focus on your problem. Focus on God. Where does your hope come from? Hope comes from Him. Be encouraged today. Let hope be reborn in your heart; hope has a name: Jesus Christ. Ask Him to come into your life anew today (or for the first time!) and hope will be born in you!
Monday, November 2, 2009
God-Cam
Last Sunday I watched the Vikings-Packers game and Brett Favre's highly-anticipated return to Lambeau Field in Green Bay, WI. The hoopla surrounding Favre’s ‘homecoming’ to the field where he won so many games was incredible. Recognizing this, FOX television had a special camera dubbed the “Favre-Cam” trained on the 40 year-old quarterback from the second he took the field against his former team until the moment he ran back into the locker room after the game. This constant video feed was available to fans by logging on FOXSports.com. It was actually pretty cool; even during commercials you could look on your PC and there was Brett; Brett looking at press box photos of the Packers defense, Brett chatting with his receivers, Brett on the phone to his coaches upstairs, Brett blowing his nose, Brett ribbing a referee, Brett grinning, Brett frowning, and so on.
While I admit it was pretty cool to watch, it was also just a little creepy. It reminded me of the Truman Show – that movie where Truman’s (“True Man?”) every move was watched over by Christof (‘Christ?”) and caught on camera and televised to the whole world. It was almost that bad; I halfway expected the camera and live feed to never shut off. Imagine that; Favre snapping towels in the locker room, Favre in the shower; Favre stuck in traffic; Favre arriving at home….
I remember when I was a little child I imagined God had a camera trained on me all the time. I guess I got the idea from the old Christmas song, remember? “He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake.” Like Santa Claus, I figured God was watching me 24/7 so I’d better behave. There were times when this thought was comforting; I figured I could always call out to God and he’d rescue me if I got in a really tight spot (perhaps if I was, say, drowning). But as I grew older, more often than not, the thought that God was always watching made me very uncomfortable.
God does see, you know. Job 28:24 says, “God views the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens.” Yes, he is watching. Yes, he does know. And yes, like Santa, God loves us. He wants to see us happy. He gives us many of the things we ask for. But, also like Santa, God can be very stern, and he doesn’t hesitate to punish (see the Old Testament).
Is it fair to lump God and Santa Claus together like this? Is it fair to perceive of God as a great cosmic Santa watching, or perhaps even worse, 'directing' every move we make? Is God really an adult version of Santa as this might lead us to believe? If not, then how can we move toward a better understanding of God than the one many of us presently have? Speaking for myself, I must admit I have some work to do here. Watching the “Favre-Cam” last Sunday afternoon made me realize that.
While I admit it was pretty cool to watch, it was also just a little creepy. It reminded me of the Truman Show – that movie where Truman’s (“True Man?”) every move was watched over by Christof (‘Christ?”) and caught on camera and televised to the whole world. It was almost that bad; I halfway expected the camera and live feed to never shut off. Imagine that; Favre snapping towels in the locker room, Favre in the shower; Favre stuck in traffic; Favre arriving at home….
I remember when I was a little child I imagined God had a camera trained on me all the time. I guess I got the idea from the old Christmas song, remember? “He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake.” Like Santa Claus, I figured God was watching me 24/7 so I’d better behave. There were times when this thought was comforting; I figured I could always call out to God and he’d rescue me if I got in a really tight spot (perhaps if I was, say, drowning). But as I grew older, more often than not, the thought that God was always watching made me very uncomfortable.
God does see, you know. Job 28:24 says, “God views the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens.” Yes, he is watching. Yes, he does know. And yes, like Santa, God loves us. He wants to see us happy. He gives us many of the things we ask for. But, also like Santa, God can be very stern, and he doesn’t hesitate to punish (see the Old Testament).
Is it fair to lump God and Santa Claus together like this? Is it fair to perceive of God as a great cosmic Santa watching, or perhaps even worse, 'directing' every move we make? Is God really an adult version of Santa as this might lead us to believe? If not, then how can we move toward a better understanding of God than the one many of us presently have? Speaking for myself, I must admit I have some work to do here. Watching the “Favre-Cam” last Sunday afternoon made me realize that.
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