I think I read this once upon a time. But SooT forwarded it to me today, from Bob Kee, and it was a good 'refresher'!
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2005/march/26.42.html
The Gospel of Mark is so graphic this way. The first half of the Gospel is Jesus showing people how to live. He's healing everybody. Then right in the middle, he shifts. He starts showing people how to die: "Now that you've got a life, I'm going to show you how to give it up." That's the whole spiritual life. It's learning how to die. And as you learn how to die, you start losing all your illusions, and you start being capable now of true intimacy and love.
--Eugene Peterson
As I read these words, I was reminded of Michael's famous words, "Get a life!"
Might it be that we are to get a life only to lose it; perhaps that we are to get a life in order that we may lose it?
Friday, May 16, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
My Grace is Sufficient for You
2 Corinthians 12:9- But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
this verse brought me through my first year in uni. medical studies has never been easy for me since the first day i entered medical school. i struggled all the way through, and when exams neared, so many of us lost ourselves. we tried to care for others when we ourselves could hardly care for ourselves. those who had never experienced headaches got a string of them, and those who knew not imsomnia expereinced it. the whole process of exams was traumatic for many of us. till now, 10 days after my professional 1 exam, i am still not relaxed. till now, i still think about what medicine can do to people. i still cannot accept medical studies. but God has been faithful in bringing me through this year. when i couldn't take it anymore and really felt like giving up, God's promises gave me hope. and this is what i'll live on for the next few years of my life- His grace and faithfulness.
leading a self-initiated ministry in uni, God brought many poeple to Himself. could i actually say that it was me who brought people closer to God? well, i did do things, but is it not His grace that chose me to lead this? is it not His Spirit that inspired people to draw close to Him? am i not just another broken vessel, a sinner, emotional and weak? it is grace.
there is so much more to learn, so much in me that is faulty, yet His grace assures me of my privilege as a child of God. unworthy. therefore, how could i live without Him? will i not die in my own sin? "My grace is sufficient for you..."
this verse brought me through my first year in uni. medical studies has never been easy for me since the first day i entered medical school. i struggled all the way through, and when exams neared, so many of us lost ourselves. we tried to care for others when we ourselves could hardly care for ourselves. those who had never experienced headaches got a string of them, and those who knew not imsomnia expereinced it. the whole process of exams was traumatic for many of us. till now, 10 days after my professional 1 exam, i am still not relaxed. till now, i still think about what medicine can do to people. i still cannot accept medical studies. but God has been faithful in bringing me through this year. when i couldn't take it anymore and really felt like giving up, God's promises gave me hope. and this is what i'll live on for the next few years of my life- His grace and faithfulness.
leading a self-initiated ministry in uni, God brought many poeple to Himself. could i actually say that it was me who brought people closer to God? well, i did do things, but is it not His grace that chose me to lead this? is it not His Spirit that inspired people to draw close to Him? am i not just another broken vessel, a sinner, emotional and weak? it is grace.
there is so much more to learn, so much in me that is faulty, yet His grace assures me of my privilege as a child of God. unworthy. therefore, how could i live without Him? will i not die in my own sin? "My grace is sufficient for you..."
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Focus for the holidays
Who can discern his errors?
Forgive my hidden faults.
Keep your servant also from wilful sins;
may they not rule over me.
Then will I be blameless,
innocent of great transgression.
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight,
O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.
--Psalm 19:12-14 (NIV)
That as he [Brother Lawrence] knew his obligation to love God in all things, and as he endeavoured so to do, he had no need of a director to advise him, but that he needed much a confessor to absolve him. That he was very sensible of his faults, but not discouraged by them; that he confessed them to God, but did not plead against Him to excuse them. When he had so done, he peaceably resumed his usual practice of love and adoration.
--from The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence
Forgive my hidden faults.
Keep your servant also from wilful sins;
may they not rule over me.
Then will I be blameless,
innocent of great transgression.
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight,
O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.
--Psalm 19:12-14 (NIV)
That as he [Brother Lawrence] knew his obligation to love God in all things, and as he endeavoured so to do, he had no need of a director to advise him, but that he needed much a confessor to absolve him. That he was very sensible of his faults, but not discouraged by them; that he confessed them to God, but did not plead against Him to excuse them. When he had so done, he peaceably resumed his usual practice of love and adoration.
--from The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Further along the way: self-control, grace, silence and trust
After he had said this, Jesus was troubled in spirit and testified, "I tell you the truth, one of you is going to betray me."
His disciples stared at one another, at a loss to know which of them he meant. One of them, the disciple whom Jesus loved, was reclining next to him. Simon Peter motioned to this disciple and said, "Ask him which one he means."
Leaning back against Jesus, he asked him, "Lord, who is it?"
Jesus answered, "It is the one to whom I will give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish." Then, dipping the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas Iscariot, son of Simon.
--John 13:21-26 (NIV)
The symbol of dipping a piece of bread was first recorded in the identification of Judas as Jesus' traitor.
As we celebrated the Eucharist in church this morning, two thoughts came to me:
First, how can I overcome sin in the flesh if I cannot even control the time I sleep? I shall be making it a point to head to bed by 11 p.m. daily this month, not because I think extra sleep will save me from sin, but because I believe (as Pastor Vincent preached this morning on the revival that followed the appointment of waiters - Acts 6) there is a correlation of sorts between being able to control one area of my body and another.
As I held the bread in my hand, I remembered that Jesus submitted His body to His Father.
Second, it was to the traitor that the symbol of the ultimate miracle was instituted. Perhaps it was because he, of all people, needed it most then. "But where sin increased, grace increased all the more..." (Romans 5:20).
Whether it was because of his need or not. I know I need it. I need the reminder of Christ's sacrifice no less than I need the forgiveness which comes from it.
* * * * *
I found myself encouraged yesterday by the writings of one d'NAer and a conversation I had with another d'NAer over two years ago.
While packing the tall cabinet downstairs, I stumbled upon Yen's Asian Beacon article, 'The Woman Who Would Not Give Up' (which I printed out from some online source). I haven't told many people about it, but lately I have felt what might best be described as 'moulting pains' concerning my photography and, to a lesser degree, my writing.
It's as if the last few months have shown me that my art is taking me somewhere; in fact, prior to the last semester in university, I never really considered my photography as art. Now I am inclined to think it is more art than photography. Whatever.
But I don't really know where it's taking me, or how to get there. But I know God is faithful, and Yen's article reminded me of a word first drummed into me by Frederick Buechner in his essay 'The Road Goes On': T-R-U-S-T.
Yen wrote;
What I am learning is that we should not turn to God only when we have exhausted all human means, for if we trust in God only as a last resort we might now know how to trust Him even as a last resort.
I couldn't agree more, and I think this is the lesson I, too, am learning.
The other d'NAer is Joan. In January 2006, I had a conversation with her over MSN, and we talked about hearing God among other things. She was taking a break from blogging then, and I was still coming to terms with my new job as Editor-in-Chief of the Victorian Editorial Board.
It occurred to me at church this morning that the things I said to Joan might cause some people to assume I believe that God always speaks in some fluttering, still, small voice accompanied by a sudden warming of the heart and an overwhelmingly benevolent peace of the soul. That would be untrue.
Rather, the silence Joan and I realised was so necessary is the silence needed to truly hear ('akouo'), not so much the peaceful, calming voice of God (although our God is a God of peace), but the hard-hitting voice of God.
When I think about it, God's voice is very hard-hitting in its simplicity; often the voice brings to us a realisation of what we are doing wrong or what we ought to be doing. And it can be very hard to accept what the voice says.
As C.S. Lewis recalls in his essay, 'A Slip of the Tongue';
A good author... asks somewhere, "Have we never risen from our knees in haste for fear God's will should become too unmistakable if we prayed longer?"
Silence is difficult for noisy people like myself. But I believe it is, along with trust, something I need especially in this season of metamorphosis. I need to avail myself to the word of God, to the will of God, to the wisdom of God, to the way of God. And I cannot get there unless I prepare myself through the discipline of silence, and through it cultivate trust in the Leader.
His disciples stared at one another, at a loss to know which of them he meant. One of them, the disciple whom Jesus loved, was reclining next to him. Simon Peter motioned to this disciple and said, "Ask him which one he means."
Leaning back against Jesus, he asked him, "Lord, who is it?"
Jesus answered, "It is the one to whom I will give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish." Then, dipping the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas Iscariot, son of Simon.
--John 13:21-26 (NIV)
The symbol of dipping a piece of bread was first recorded in the identification of Judas as Jesus' traitor.
As we celebrated the Eucharist in church this morning, two thoughts came to me:
First, how can I overcome sin in the flesh if I cannot even control the time I sleep? I shall be making it a point to head to bed by 11 p.m. daily this month, not because I think extra sleep will save me from sin, but because I believe (as Pastor Vincent preached this morning on the revival that followed the appointment of waiters - Acts 6) there is a correlation of sorts between being able to control one area of my body and another.
As I held the bread in my hand, I remembered that Jesus submitted His body to His Father.
Second, it was to the traitor that the symbol of the ultimate miracle was instituted. Perhaps it was because he, of all people, needed it most then. "But where sin increased, grace increased all the more..." (Romans 5:20).
Whether it was because of his need or not. I know I need it. I need the reminder of Christ's sacrifice no less than I need the forgiveness which comes from it.
* * * * *
I found myself encouraged yesterday by the writings of one d'NAer and a conversation I had with another d'NAer over two years ago.
While packing the tall cabinet downstairs, I stumbled upon Yen's Asian Beacon article, 'The Woman Who Would Not Give Up' (which I printed out from some online source). I haven't told many people about it, but lately I have felt what might best be described as 'moulting pains' concerning my photography and, to a lesser degree, my writing.
It's as if the last few months have shown me that my art is taking me somewhere; in fact, prior to the last semester in university, I never really considered my photography as art. Now I am inclined to think it is more art than photography. Whatever.
But I don't really know where it's taking me, or how to get there. But I know God is faithful, and Yen's article reminded me of a word first drummed into me by Frederick Buechner in his essay 'The Road Goes On': T-R-U-S-T.
Yen wrote;
What I am learning is that we should not turn to God only when we have exhausted all human means, for if we trust in God only as a last resort we might now know how to trust Him even as a last resort.
I couldn't agree more, and I think this is the lesson I, too, am learning.
The other d'NAer is Joan. In January 2006, I had a conversation with her over MSN, and we talked about hearing God among other things. She was taking a break from blogging then, and I was still coming to terms with my new job as Editor-in-Chief of the Victorian Editorial Board.
It occurred to me at church this morning that the things I said to Joan might cause some people to assume I believe that God always speaks in some fluttering, still, small voice accompanied by a sudden warming of the heart and an overwhelmingly benevolent peace of the soul. That would be untrue.
Rather, the silence Joan and I realised was so necessary is the silence needed to truly hear ('akouo'), not so much the peaceful, calming voice of God (although our God is a God of peace), but the hard-hitting voice of God.
When I think about it, God's voice is very hard-hitting in its simplicity; often the voice brings to us a realisation of what we are doing wrong or what we ought to be doing. And it can be very hard to accept what the voice says.
As C.S. Lewis recalls in his essay, 'A Slip of the Tongue';
A good author... asks somewhere, "Have we never risen from our knees in haste for fear God's will should become too unmistakable if we prayed longer?"
Silence is difficult for noisy people like myself. But I believe it is, along with trust, something I need especially in this season of metamorphosis. I need to avail myself to the word of God, to the will of God, to the wisdom of God, to the way of God. And I cannot get there unless I prepare myself through the discipline of silence, and through it cultivate trust in the Leader.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Reflections on a Bukit Tinggi Retreat
While I was still in prison in the courtyard, the LORD's message came to me again. The LORD, who made the earth, who formed it and set it in place, spoke to me. He whose name is the LORD said, "Call to me, and I will answer you; I will tell you wonderful and marvellous things that you know nothing about.
"I, the LORD, the God of Israel, say that the houses of Jerusalem and the royal palace of Judah will be torn down as a result of the siege and the attack. Some will fight against the Babylonians, who will fill the houses with the corpses of those whom I am going to strike down in my anger and fury. I have turned away from this city because of the evil things that its people have done.
"But I will heal this city and its people and restore them to health. I will show them abundant peace and security. I will make Judah and Israel prosperous, and I will rebuild them as they were before. I will purify them from the sins that they have committed against me, and I will forgive their sins and their rebellion.
"Jerusalem will be a source of joy, honour, and pride to me; and every nation in the world will fear and tremble when they hear about the good things that I do for the people of Jerusalem and about the prosperity that I bring to the city."
--Jeremiah 33:1-9 (TEV)
The PKV's recent Committee Planning Retreat (CPR) at Gracehill Lodge, Bukit Tinggi, went well. (See pictures here.)
We have our theme and objectives for 2008/2009, and as to what that theme is, it's a surprise! All I can say at the moment is that LEGO bricks probably fit in the picture somewhere.
I'm writing this because a few days ago, I was reading Jeremiah 33. It happens that we chose for one of our objectives the supporting verse Jeremiah 33:3 (Call to me...), and I basically structured my devotions over the last few days around the verses we chose for the objectives.
It occurred to me that the Jeremiah passage quoted above somewhat sums up what our thrust for the coming year will be:
Building the city of God and living out the forgiveness which is its foundation.
Calling to God and listening to Him as He helps us make sense of what's going on around us.
Being a source of joy and honour to the nations.
Two songs come to mind at this point. The first is 'Rebuild' by Switchfoot, Relient K and Ruth. The second is 'God's Got An Army':
God's got an army, marching through the land
Deliverance is their song, with healing in their hands
Everlasting joy and gladness in their hearts
And in this army I've got a part.
And that's what the theme means to me really; about the unity in this army, the joy and the healing and the gladness we are called to carry to each other and to those outside the army. The sort of paradoxical army of a paradoxical kingdom; a kingdom whose King will not stay buried.
A kingdom whose power is not so much that there is no more death or hurt in it, but that the death cannot kill and the hurt can no longer cause pain.
It will be a season that calls for much change in our attitudes, I believe. And just this morning, I read these words on Sacred Gateway.
When we meet Jesus in prayer, we do not need to explain. He reads our hearts too. One of the joys of prayer is that it opens our hearts to us, so that we realise our own jealousies or resentments, our deeper feelings. To meet him in this way, we need to be still and stop making words.
Perhaps it is hardest for those like me (and maybe some of us) who are almost naturally wordy. Yen laughed at me (and with good reason, I believe!) when I said I thought of staying low-profile when the next semester begins, such that the incoming juniors would have to ask, "Who is Benjamin?"
But half a year down as Prayer Head, I realise this is probably what I need to change most of all. I need to be quieter that I may listen; I need to be quieter that I may write and reflect well. Above all, I need to be quieter because my rather active lifestyle is really taking quite a bit out of me, and God knows I need the stamina for the real work.
* * * * *
Four animals: four reminders.
The snake and fruit amidst the bushes reminds me of Satan's destructive activity and how he aims to lay siege on the City of God, of the power of his temptation and how he tries to make us forget our place in the garden.
The dogs at the entrance of the house remind me that God calls us to be faithful, loving and trusting, even as one family in one household. Of all the animals in the world, the dog is called man's best friend and is the reverse spelling of 'God'.
The wasps remind me of the importance of unity and teamwork in the body of Christ, for which Christ prayed in Gethsemane. In some ways the leaf that gives them shade against the sun reminds me of the vine God caused to grow for Jonah; of His grace in our weakness.
The lizard reminds me to be patient and still, to wait upon the Lord at all times. Reptiles, being cold-blooded, rely upon heat from the surroundings to 'activate' the enzymes in their bodies; likewise I am reminded to 'lean not upon my own understanding' (Prov. 3:5).
And I think, like the animals, we learnt (at least in part) what it means to depend on God's providence. Following Entangled, Adrian of the PKV called God the 'God of the Red Sea' because so many 'Red Seas' had parted in the run-up to the musical and also throughout the semester.
Following CPR, it dawned upon me that the Red Sea was only the beginning of the trials; the Israelites had only begun to experience God's power. The real testing would come in the desert, and the most miraculous providence would also come then.
Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD. Your clothes did not wear out and your feet did not swell during these forty years. Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the LORD your God disciplines you.
--Deuteronomy 8:2-5 (NIV)
God provided for us in Bukit Tinggi; we had just enough electricity, an amazing variety of garden plants to supplement our cooking, a relatively complete kitchen, a good balance of rain and shine (and an experience of what someone called 'God taking photographs', i.e. thunder and lightning)...
And a whole lot more fun than we thought we'd have (read: piano, drum set and swimming pool with diving platform)!
So we've crossed the Red Sea; the desert lies ahead, and beyond that the Promised Land. May we not forget these lessons even in the coming semester.
(All photos taken at Gracehill, except wasps taken at the entrance to the adjacent private property. These were about all the animals we saw, barring occasional birds; I forgot to shoot the leeches... argh!)
Monday, March 10, 2008
Post-Election Thoughts
I was wondering if I had anything to say about the recent General Elections, given that I generally shy away from politics (ironically it was politics that gave me a head start into the world of public speaking).
Amidst all the cheers of victory on the side of the Opposition (and the vast majority of its backing citizens), I felt the change a good thing. I'm not saying things in Malaysia will turn out for the better; stability with a good number of freedoms revoked is probably better than a lot of great ideas but no solid ground for implementation.
In a state like Kelantan (and perhaps to some extent Kedah) where PAS has been in power for so long, it is nothing new. But the entire political landscapes of Perak, Selangor and Penang, for instance, have changed dramatically. For the first time ever, I think of the friends I encountered today and realise that most of them are from Opposition-controlled states.
But I said earlier that change is probably a good thing. Yesterday morning before church, I found myself thinking this over as I browsed through the statistics on the Election Commission's official website. Change is perhaps a good thing for people bored of the same old same old, but I think more so for the Christian, because it is only change in this world that can remind us of the unchanging things.
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever, said the writer of Hebrews.
Chuck Colson opened Steven Curtis Chapman's 'Heaven in the Real World' with this narration: "The hope that each of us has is not in who governs us, or what laws are passed, or what great things we do as a nation. Our hope is in the power of God working through the hearts of people, and that's where our hope is in this country, and that's where our hope is in life."
Come what may, God's work continues. It has survived the destruction of Jerusalem, the Crusades, the Inquisition, the Enlightenment, the Industrial Revolution, the Communist Revolution, two World Wars, to name a few.
And because of this we are free to vote, and free to rejoice and celebrate the victorious politicians. Not so much because we have faith in their capabilities, but because our faith is rooted in the One to whom all rulers are subject, and so we know that no matter who rules over us, we are safe and have a future in Him.
Praise Him.
Amidst all the cheers of victory on the side of the Opposition (and the vast majority of its backing citizens), I felt the change a good thing. I'm not saying things in Malaysia will turn out for the better; stability with a good number of freedoms revoked is probably better than a lot of great ideas but no solid ground for implementation.
In a state like Kelantan (and perhaps to some extent Kedah) where PAS has been in power for so long, it is nothing new. But the entire political landscapes of Perak, Selangor and Penang, for instance, have changed dramatically. For the first time ever, I think of the friends I encountered today and realise that most of them are from Opposition-controlled states.
But I said earlier that change is probably a good thing. Yesterday morning before church, I found myself thinking this over as I browsed through the statistics on the Election Commission's official website. Change is perhaps a good thing for people bored of the same old same old, but I think more so for the Christian, because it is only change in this world that can remind us of the unchanging things.
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever, said the writer of Hebrews.
Chuck Colson opened Steven Curtis Chapman's 'Heaven in the Real World' with this narration: "The hope that each of us has is not in who governs us, or what laws are passed, or what great things we do as a nation. Our hope is in the power of God working through the hearts of people, and that's where our hope is in this country, and that's where our hope is in life."
Come what may, God's work continues. It has survived the destruction of Jerusalem, the Crusades, the Inquisition, the Enlightenment, the Industrial Revolution, the Communist Revolution, two World Wars, to name a few.
And because of this we are free to vote, and free to rejoice and celebrate the victorious politicians. Not so much because we have faith in their capabilities, but because our faith is rooted in the One to whom all rulers are subject, and so we know that no matter who rules over us, we are safe and have a future in Him.
Praise Him.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The Future in His Hands
And even though sometimes Your ways
I cannot understand
I'll never walk away because
My future's in Your hands
~Running After you, Planetshakers
I'm at a point in my life now where I almost completely do not understand what God is doing with my life and in my life. Or maybe I am at a point where I finally realise that I normally don't understand anyway. I just assume. Honestly, if I truly understood, I would be 1) freaked out and 2) unable to practice faith hope, perseverance and character-building, etc.
If God told Abraham before all the trials he underwent, that he would have a son and that son would have to be sacrificed, Abraham might have baulked. But Abraham faced that final test of faith once he had undergone so many other little tests that he could reason that God could raise the dead ( a big improvement from his previous reasoning that he and Sarah were too old to have children).
So while I do understand in the present the season of life that I'm in, whether of trial, rest or spiritual revelation, the long-term outcome is not something I can ever predict with certainty. Joseph in his prison would have been hard-pressed to imagine how his dreams of bowing sheaves and stars could come true, though he seems to never have given up hope in his destiny, rising in favour even with the prison warden. In the same way, I've been asking, what is the point of all the events of my life up to now? If every moment counts toward a higher purpose, even the bad ones, then giving up in situations isn't an option. What is my purpose in Christ? I don't mean theologically--we're all predestined to glory, etc. I mean, what is my personal mission for Christ given by him? What are the good works prepared in advance for me to do, like the art and craft materials prepared by the teacher beforehand for his class? That's what I'd really like to know. Maybe that's predestination. God knows those who want to take his art class and provides the canvas and the paints and teaches us as we go. No matter how simple and unremarkable the stuff we paint is, he already knows how it will turn out and already has in his mind how he'll fit it all together with his own masterpiece, so that it becomes a thing of great beauty. And the cool thing is that in the end, we are his masterpiece--not our works, unless our works are of course other people whose lives the master artist has sculpted through us. The future in his hands is the destiny I wish to fulfil.
I cannot understand
I'll never walk away because
My future's in Your hands
~Running After you, Planetshakers
I'm at a point in my life now where I almost completely do not understand what God is doing with my life and in my life. Or maybe I am at a point where I finally realise that I normally don't understand anyway. I just assume. Honestly, if I truly understood, I would be 1) freaked out and 2) unable to practice faith hope, perseverance and character-building, etc.
If God told Abraham before all the trials he underwent, that he would have a son and that son would have to be sacrificed, Abraham might have baulked. But Abraham faced that final test of faith once he had undergone so many other little tests that he could reason that God could raise the dead ( a big improvement from his previous reasoning that he and Sarah were too old to have children).
So while I do understand in the present the season of life that I'm in, whether of trial, rest or spiritual revelation, the long-term outcome is not something I can ever predict with certainty. Joseph in his prison would have been hard-pressed to imagine how his dreams of bowing sheaves and stars could come true, though he seems to never have given up hope in his destiny, rising in favour even with the prison warden. In the same way, I've been asking, what is the point of all the events of my life up to now? If every moment counts toward a higher purpose, even the bad ones, then giving up in situations isn't an option. What is my purpose in Christ? I don't mean theologically--we're all predestined to glory, etc. I mean, what is my personal mission for Christ given by him? What are the good works prepared in advance for me to do, like the art and craft materials prepared by the teacher beforehand for his class? That's what I'd really like to know. Maybe that's predestination. God knows those who want to take his art class and provides the canvas and the paints and teaches us as we go. No matter how simple and unremarkable the stuff we paint is, he already knows how it will turn out and already has in his mind how he'll fit it all together with his own masterpiece, so that it becomes a thing of great beauty. And the cool thing is that in the end, we are his masterpiece--not our works, unless our works are of course other people whose lives the master artist has sculpted through us. The future in his hands is the destiny I wish to fulfil.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Romans 8: 28-30
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.
The verse at the centre of the predestination debate. Do humans really have no free will? Does God determine everything? And if He does, then are some people assigned to hell? As I ponder these questions, I think we are asking the wrong ones. Whence derives this assumption that predestination and free will are polarised? What is predestination in the first place? Maybe it's God working for the good of those who have been called; maybe it's God determining the ultimately good outcome of the "called" ones, whether going through good times or whether suffering persecution to further his kingdom. In which case it isn't talking directly about free will. "If God is for us, who can be against us?" is the following verse. So Paul is definitely still talking about living the victorious Christian life in a broken world, not about who gets to heaven and who does not.
And it also struck me that vs 29 has God's foreknowledge preceding his predestination--"those God foreknew he also predestined." The paradox of free will and predestination arises, in fact, from our inability to distinguish between the power to choose and the power to determine an outcome. Nobody has the power to make a coin come down heads just because they choose to side with heads. You can still choose a side, though--that's my current stand (non-Calvinistic, in rough terms, I think. Never really got into the theology of the debate). But God does have the power to determine that whatever happens, it happens for good, according to His purposes. And so in the world He decided to send Jesus to die on the cross, because he already knew the outcome behind the ignominy would be the glory of the risen Saviour and his Church. He knew beforehand the condition of our hearts and I believe God is big enough (omnipotent enough--but I don't really like the word...sounds a bit clinical sometimes) to actually know who will accept Him and who will not. So if he chooses to harden hearts and use some vessels for ignoble purposes, etc (Romans 9:16-18) it really is, as Paul says, none of our business, since our minds are too limited to comprehend his understanding, which sees all time in a heartbeat--and really, cause and effect are not things he's limited by (in physics terms, just because God made the arrow of time point one way, it doesn't mean his knowledge is limited by its direction). As created beings we simply are not in a position to judge people's heart and say, oh this person deserves to have better in life, and this person doesn't. I like the way Gandalf puts it to Frodo, who thinks Gollum ought to have been killed: "Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement."
Well, whether we are Calvinist, non-Calvinist, or whatever fine distinction we want to make over the millionth part of a hair, it remains that we should not make distinctions between people in terms of judgment because we can't. Our responsibility is to spread the gospel, not decide who lives or dies, who is predestined or not, who deserves better or worse. I leave it in God's hands, because I trust he understand justice more than we do.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.
The verse at the centre of the predestination debate. Do humans really have no free will? Does God determine everything? And if He does, then are some people assigned to hell? As I ponder these questions, I think we are asking the wrong ones. Whence derives this assumption that predestination and free will are polarised? What is predestination in the first place? Maybe it's God working for the good of those who have been called; maybe it's God determining the ultimately good outcome of the "called" ones, whether going through good times or whether suffering persecution to further his kingdom. In which case it isn't talking directly about free will. "If God is for us, who can be against us?" is the following verse. So Paul is definitely still talking about living the victorious Christian life in a broken world, not about who gets to heaven and who does not.
And it also struck me that vs 29 has God's foreknowledge preceding his predestination--"those God foreknew he also predestined." The paradox of free will and predestination arises, in fact, from our inability to distinguish between the power to choose and the power to determine an outcome. Nobody has the power to make a coin come down heads just because they choose to side with heads. You can still choose a side, though--that's my current stand (non-Calvinistic, in rough terms, I think. Never really got into the theology of the debate). But God does have the power to determine that whatever happens, it happens for good, according to His purposes. And so in the world He decided to send Jesus to die on the cross, because he already knew the outcome behind the ignominy would be the glory of the risen Saviour and his Church. He knew beforehand the condition of our hearts and I believe God is big enough (omnipotent enough--but I don't really like the word...sounds a bit clinical sometimes) to actually know who will accept Him and who will not. So if he chooses to harden hearts and use some vessels for ignoble purposes, etc (Romans 9:16-18) it really is, as Paul says, none of our business, since our minds are too limited to comprehend his understanding, which sees all time in a heartbeat--and really, cause and effect are not things he's limited by (in physics terms, just because God made the arrow of time point one way, it doesn't mean his knowledge is limited by its direction). As created beings we simply are not in a position to judge people's heart and say, oh this person deserves to have better in life, and this person doesn't. I like the way Gandalf puts it to Frodo, who thinks Gollum ought to have been killed: "Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement."
Well, whether we are Calvinist, non-Calvinist, or whatever fine distinction we want to make over the millionth part of a hair, it remains that we should not make distinctions between people in terms of judgment because we can't. Our responsibility is to spread the gospel, not decide who lives or dies, who is predestined or not, who deserves better or worse. I leave it in God's hands, because I trust he understand justice more than we do.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Lent ahoy!
I'm so used to quoting distinguished writers, philosophers, scientists, rock stars... I think I'll start this off by quoting a friend. After all, friends are no less distinguished, are they?
She wrote, and I take the liberty to annotate with my own thoughts;
I am learning to trust that God gives enough for the day, that I will somehow be able to finish my work in time, despite giving up my time for church and praying and friendship.
Church and praying and friendship. Seems more or less what I've been giving up my time for so far, this semester. I suppose the motives are quite different, though; truth be told, I'm just too lazy and I'm somewhat addicted to the company of others.
But I thank God for endurance and strength in my nearly never-ending string of extra-curricular activities.
When all's said and done and the final bell tolls, I think God's not going to ask me how many A's I got but how many disciples I made, how many moments I made count for Him.
How many moments have I made count for God? Not quite as many as I'd wish I did. This Lent... to make more moments count?
But why do we still face temptation (and sometimes give in)? I guess God wants us to find our strength to stand up under temptation, and He wants us to find our strength in Him. If that means making a few more errors while we go the wrong way in order to find the right one, His mercy is such that He allows it. Because He doesn't want us to remain softies who fall at one blow (though it's perfectly fine that that's what I am now). He wants us to grow to be mature Christians.
Writing as one who knows firsthand what this means and having scars to show for it--scars that are still being added as the battle goes on--it is nonetheless an often frustration process. Yet I have hope because I know these things really do happen, that by God's mercy the right way truly can be found.
So I've found that in my life and in the life of others, God clears us of our sins instantly (justification), so we have complete salvation. At the same time, and paradoxically so, redemption is a process. God isn't finished yet.
I like the way you put it. And that word, redemption. I think it lies at the centre of a lot of thoughts I've been having and a lot of things that have been going on in my life lately. Of the two, I really think redemption is the more incredible act; salvation is a big thing, to be sure, but it only involved the death of Jesus. Redemption, on the other hand, is to me very much our death as we share in His.
Don't you know it makes me feel like glass to write and write from the core of my being and face only a crystal silence? Just a line! Not to thank me or whatever. But a line from you about you and about Romans or whatever. I love letters.
(I don't suppose this line was meant for me, but I'll respond to it anyway!)
I love Romans! Romans 7 and 8 especially. The countless times those chapters met me in moments of great despair and fear as much as in moments of glorious triumph and optimism. How indeed the Spirit through St Paul had walked with me even when I least knew it!
* * * * *
If every Christian gives 2% of our time on earth to social causes...
That's about 30 minutes every day. 210 minutes or 3 1/2 hours a week.
There must be something I can do.
* * * * *
...Today, if you hear his voice,
do not harden your hearts as you did at Meribah,
as you did that day at Massah in the desert,
where your fathers tested and tried me,
though they had seen what I did.
For forty years I was angry with that generation;
I said, "They are a people whose hearts go astray,
and they have not known my ways."
11 So I declared on oath in my anger,
"They shall never enter my rest."
--Psalm 95:7-11 (NIV)
There is this song by Mary Wetzel called 'With All My Heart', one of those songs from the Donut Man collections. I think it has become somewhat of an anthem for me lately.
With all my heart
I will follow after You
With all my soul
I will praise You, O Lord
With all the strength that You have given me
I'll not be led astray
With all my heart
I will walk in Your ways.
As I read the psalm, I realise I do not want to be a person whose heart goes astray, who does not know the ways of my Master.
Alissa, as I read your recent entries on this blog, I began to realise the direction I need to take this Lent: it is reconciliation.
Over the last few months, since starting life in university, I'd successfully made it through one semester without falling into some old pitfalls that have dogged me virtually every year in school. But some things went wrong towards the end of the year, mostly because of me being headstrong and stubborn and all. Now, looking back and, to some extent, looking ahead, I realise I need to make amends with some of these people. I need to ask their forgiveness.
It is difficult to live knowing you carry the name of God, especially when you are a committee member in a Christian organisation. How much simpler life would be if I didn't have that burden! I could be drunk and wild and loose anytime I wanted; but not when I bear this.
Yet would I rather be anywhere else? A few weeks ago a truth came to me; a truth that said, simply, "This is where you are." A truth that spoke to a lot of fears and doubts I'd had last year; that spoke by stating the obvious, no more and no less. And yet it was the answer I needed.
To spend Lent working on reconciliation. Thinking of the life of Christ, I suppose it makes sense that way, doesn't it?
(The pun-ish, semi-lame title just came spontaneously at the end of this post.)
She wrote, and I take the liberty to annotate with my own thoughts;
I am learning to trust that God gives enough for the day, that I will somehow be able to finish my work in time, despite giving up my time for church and praying and friendship.
Church and praying and friendship. Seems more or less what I've been giving up my time for so far, this semester. I suppose the motives are quite different, though; truth be told, I'm just too lazy and I'm somewhat addicted to the company of others.
But I thank God for endurance and strength in my nearly never-ending string of extra-curricular activities.
When all's said and done and the final bell tolls, I think God's not going to ask me how many A's I got but how many disciples I made, how many moments I made count for Him.
How many moments have I made count for God? Not quite as many as I'd wish I did. This Lent... to make more moments count?
But why do we still face temptation (and sometimes give in)? I guess God wants us to find our strength to stand up under temptation, and He wants us to find our strength in Him. If that means making a few more errors while we go the wrong way in order to find the right one, His mercy is such that He allows it. Because He doesn't want us to remain softies who fall at one blow (though it's perfectly fine that that's what I am now). He wants us to grow to be mature Christians.
Writing as one who knows firsthand what this means and having scars to show for it--scars that are still being added as the battle goes on--it is nonetheless an often frustration process. Yet I have hope because I know these things really do happen, that by God's mercy the right way truly can be found.
So I've found that in my life and in the life of others, God clears us of our sins instantly (justification), so we have complete salvation. At the same time, and paradoxically so, redemption is a process. God isn't finished yet.
I like the way you put it. And that word, redemption. I think it lies at the centre of a lot of thoughts I've been having and a lot of things that have been going on in my life lately. Of the two, I really think redemption is the more incredible act; salvation is a big thing, to be sure, but it only involved the death of Jesus. Redemption, on the other hand, is to me very much our death as we share in His.
Don't you know it makes me feel like glass to write and write from the core of my being and face only a crystal silence? Just a line! Not to thank me or whatever. But a line from you about you and about Romans or whatever. I love letters.
(I don't suppose this line was meant for me, but I'll respond to it anyway!)
I love Romans! Romans 7 and 8 especially. The countless times those chapters met me in moments of great despair and fear as much as in moments of glorious triumph and optimism. How indeed the Spirit through St Paul had walked with me even when I least knew it!
* * * * *
If every Christian gives 2% of our time on earth to social causes...
That's about 30 minutes every day. 210 minutes or 3 1/2 hours a week.
There must be something I can do.
* * * * *
...Today, if you hear his voice,
do not harden your hearts as you did at Meribah,
as you did that day at Massah in the desert,
where your fathers tested and tried me,
though they had seen what I did.
For forty years I was angry with that generation;
I said, "They are a people whose hearts go astray,
and they have not known my ways."
11 So I declared on oath in my anger,
"They shall never enter my rest."
--Psalm 95:7-11 (NIV)
There is this song by Mary Wetzel called 'With All My Heart', one of those songs from the Donut Man collections. I think it has become somewhat of an anthem for me lately.
With all my heart
I will follow after You
With all my soul
I will praise You, O Lord
With all the strength that You have given me
I'll not be led astray
With all my heart
I will walk in Your ways.
As I read the psalm, I realise I do not want to be a person whose heart goes astray, who does not know the ways of my Master.
Alissa, as I read your recent entries on this blog, I began to realise the direction I need to take this Lent: it is reconciliation.
Over the last few months, since starting life in university, I'd successfully made it through one semester without falling into some old pitfalls that have dogged me virtually every year in school. But some things went wrong towards the end of the year, mostly because of me being headstrong and stubborn and all. Now, looking back and, to some extent, looking ahead, I realise I need to make amends with some of these people. I need to ask their forgiveness.
It is difficult to live knowing you carry the name of God, especially when you are a committee member in a Christian organisation. How much simpler life would be if I didn't have that burden! I could be drunk and wild and loose anytime I wanted; but not when I bear this.
Yet would I rather be anywhere else? A few weeks ago a truth came to me; a truth that said, simply, "This is where you are." A truth that spoke to a lot of fears and doubts I'd had last year; that spoke by stating the obvious, no more and no less. And yet it was the answer I needed.
To spend Lent working on reconciliation. Thinking of the life of Christ, I suppose it makes sense that way, doesn't it?
(The pun-ish, semi-lame title just came spontaneously at the end of this post.)
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Vignettes Of James
Do not merely listen to the word and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.
James 1:22
Dear Father,
Your word speaks volumes about your heart, and shows me the condition of mine. With the Holy Spirit, it brings the pain of conviction, provides the words for repentance and speaks the freedom of truth. I want to delight in your word to the point that I also delight in following what it says. It's easy to stop at just reading and analysing. What does it mean to do what your word says?
Religion that God accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
James 1:27
Dear Father,
To do what your word says, I think may be this: to seek after your heart, and at the centre of your heart is your love for us, for the weak and defenceless. For the people whom society ignores and despises. I'm sure we're not barbaric enough to hate widows and orphans, but to you, to allow someone to continue living at the short end of unequal wealth distribution is to despise, isn't it? Your love is so much that to be apathetic is to hate.
If every nation in the world gave 2% of its GDP to alleviate world poverty we could eradicate poverty (assuming people used the money to become self-sufficient). If every Christian gives 2% of our time on earth to social causes, how much would we accomplish for your name? That's one year out of 50. What if everything we do in our lives is not to achieve financial security for ourselves but to seek the benefit of others? Does that sound just a little crazy?
If we were to live by your word, what does gaining the world and losing my soul really mean? Trying to gain pieces of the world, I lose pieces of my soul. I fragment, break apart. I am torn between two masters.
I am sorry.
Not many should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.
James 3:1
Dear Father,
Why should I be given the gift of discerning and teaching the Word I would like to know. You...you....you--well, there's no contradicting you, is there? What shall the clay say to the potter? Shall it whine for being given what can probably be considered a noble purpose? Still, I would like to have my say. I would like to say that what with your word being a light unto my feet and a light unto my path and all that, the world still looks like a pretty dark place to me. That I am afraid. Sometimes it's hard to admit being afraid. In this world it's weak to be afraid and uncertain. It's weak to be honest and transparent to the point that you sound like a child.
But your word wells up in my heart like a spring of water, washing away the creeping doubts. There's a power that's made perfect in weakness, a peace that passes all understanding, a strength that goes beyond the marshmallow crust we develop from being burnt by life's trials--crusty on the outside but mushy on the inside. Ineffable power, peace and strength. Ineffable...I like that word: incapable of being expressed in words. Sounds lazy, like I don't want to describe this. But in the end perhaps there are some things that are beyond understanding yet within experience. A strength with an unbreakable core. The strength of saints.
But why this gift? Why given at one and the same time mastery of and vulnerability to words? What am I for? The clay would still like to speak to the potter.
James 1:22
Dear Father,
Your word speaks volumes about your heart, and shows me the condition of mine. With the Holy Spirit, it brings the pain of conviction, provides the words for repentance and speaks the freedom of truth. I want to delight in your word to the point that I also delight in following what it says. It's easy to stop at just reading and analysing. What does it mean to do what your word says?
Religion that God accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
James 1:27
Dear Father,
To do what your word says, I think may be this: to seek after your heart, and at the centre of your heart is your love for us, for the weak and defenceless. For the people whom society ignores and despises. I'm sure we're not barbaric enough to hate widows and orphans, but to you, to allow someone to continue living at the short end of unequal wealth distribution is to despise, isn't it? Your love is so much that to be apathetic is to hate.
If every nation in the world gave 2% of its GDP to alleviate world poverty we could eradicate poverty (assuming people used the money to become self-sufficient). If every Christian gives 2% of our time on earth to social causes, how much would we accomplish for your name? That's one year out of 50. What if everything we do in our lives is not to achieve financial security for ourselves but to seek the benefit of others? Does that sound just a little crazy?
If we were to live by your word, what does gaining the world and losing my soul really mean? Trying to gain pieces of the world, I lose pieces of my soul. I fragment, break apart. I am torn between two masters.
I am sorry.
Not many should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.
James 3:1
Dear Father,
Why should I be given the gift of discerning and teaching the Word I would like to know. You...you....you--well, there's no contradicting you, is there? What shall the clay say to the potter? Shall it whine for being given what can probably be considered a noble purpose? Still, I would like to have my say. I would like to say that what with your word being a light unto my feet and a light unto my path and all that, the world still looks like a pretty dark place to me. That I am afraid. Sometimes it's hard to admit being afraid. In this world it's weak to be afraid and uncertain. It's weak to be honest and transparent to the point that you sound like a child.
But your word wells up in my heart like a spring of water, washing away the creeping doubts. There's a power that's made perfect in weakness, a peace that passes all understanding, a strength that goes beyond the marshmallow crust we develop from being burnt by life's trials--crusty on the outside but mushy on the inside. Ineffable power, peace and strength. Ineffable...I like that word: incapable of being expressed in words. Sounds lazy, like I don't want to describe this. But in the end perhaps there are some things that are beyond understanding yet within experience. A strength with an unbreakable core. The strength of saints.
But why this gift? Why given at one and the same time mastery of and vulnerability to words? What am I for? The clay would still like to speak to the potter.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Till The Full Light Of Day
My cell group is embarking on a three-chapter-a-week journey through the Bible, and we have started on Romans. We share our thoughts periodically. Here are mine. I thought to edit the letter, but I think more nuances come through in the unexpurgated form (save for names)--for instance, the feeling that I must have been high when I wrote this.
Dear all,
Hello!
Thank you for the sharings. They are very encouraging and I learn new things from them. I think we don't have to share anything utterly "cheem" but just let the Word sink in and share from our heart. It would be very cool if more people share (hint hint) a line or two. I mean, I like to be long-winded but a short line can do as much (and even more) than any number of paragraphs. And I believe writing in is as much an action as it is a reflection. We encourage each other and ourselves, and develop (as P--- would call it) a rhythm of Bible reading and a pattern of encouragement. =D
Romans 7-9 presents some very challenging thoughts--challenging to human pride, that is. First of all, Romans 9 talks about God having mercy on whom he will, and the troubling example of Pharoah being raised up specifically to become hardened and for God to display his power to the world through him. I found this hard to swallow when younger. The question "Then why does God still blame us?" (9:19) was in my thoughts.
I suppose eventually one finds out that one has missed the trees for the wood (or however the saying goes). Reading this passage again, I realise that my thinking has changed over the years (hopefully this is the "being transformed by the renewing of your mind through the Holy Spirit" thingy in Romans 12:2). Rather than being a piece about God's harshness, Romans 7-9 presents His incomparable mercy. First there is a dilemma: we are at war within ourselves because we keep doing bad things which we don't want to do. But we are saved from this "law of sin" through Jesus so that we no longer need to fight from the losing side. We can start from the winning side instead. Like B-- said, we are called to work out our salvation and not work at our salvation, which I think is a powerful summary of the whole book of Romans.
Thus, we have the amazing freedom of living by the Spirit and no longer being trapped by sin. We are free to do anything and be anything, and not just keep acting self-destructively. I'm in the Humanities (i.e Literature, theatre and so on) and there people are always saying things to the effect that Christianity is controlling and limiting and whatnot. But I think that this is not true and I am angry. Yes. I am. Angry. (no, not the wanna shout back kind of anger). I had a Bible teacher once who compared living in sin to having a whole field to move around in, yet we insist in walking into the post in the middle, just coz' God said don't walk into it, it's not good for you. I guess that's a simpler analogy of what happened in Eden.
I would like to share, though, that this rhetoric of freedom can be daunting to people trapped in cycles of sin (like addiction and stuff). I had a friend who would think herself condemned when she read these verses, because she couldn't seem to be victorious over sin like all the stuff conventional church preaching says. And I don't mean to say that the Bible is wrong. I think this is something we absolutely need to know. It's just that real life can be pretty messy and in my experience most of the time God doesn't miraculously take our predilection to sinning away and leave us completely pure and holy do-gooders. But why do we still face temptation (and sometimes give in)? I guess God wants us to find our strength to stand up under temptation, and He wants us to find our strength in Him. If that means making a few more errors while we go the wrong way in order to find the right one, His mercy is such that He allows it. Because He doesn't want us to remain softies who fall at one blow (though it's perfectly fine that that's what I am now). He wants us to grow to be mature Christians.
So I've found that in my life and in the life of others, God clears us of our sins instantly (justification), so we have complete salvation. At the same time, and paradoxically so, redemption is a process. God isn't finished yet. There's a future glory that's just waiting to be revealed, that's so much more that anything we can imagine, and so much more than our sufferings can ever win for us, because it's a glory that Christ won for us through his death and resurrection (8:18). Don't you know the whole of creation is waiting for the moment when Christ comes back again (8:20)? Maybe that's what we are all really looking for, deep inside even without knowing it (8:23). Isn't that why we changed fairy tales to have happy endings? Aren't we all waiting for that ultimate happy ending? We are waiting for the redemption of our bodies, to be completely free of the sinful nature. Meanwhile, from what I've seen and known, I believe that God works in redemptive cycles in the lives of those who are trapped in cycles of sin. I have witnessed it in the lives of people around me. One who had constant outbursts of anger grew less angry over time, though she still continued to have outbursts. Eventually she stopped altogether. One who was trapped in addiction slowly came out of it, not without pain--but over the years, the desire for short-lived pleasure and self-gratification is slowly being replaced with the desire to please God, so that one gives in less and less to the addiction over time. And one whose life moved in cycles of depression found that each cycle, though more painful, ended in far more peace and joy than she could ever find on her own, all due only to the grace of God. We are all, I think, moving in redemptive cycles, slowly being weaned off an addiction to ourselves and placed on the highway to freedom in Christ. It is more true than we could ever know, that "the path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, growing every brighter till the full light of day" (from Proverbs, but I'm rushing off now so I can't find the reference. sorry)
So I ended somewhat off the topic but I just felt moved to give my testimony from the passage. I told you Romans 8 is my favourite! Please write back! (and I don't mean K-- and B--). Don't you know it makes me feel like glass to write and write from the core of my being and face only a crystal silence? Just a line! Not to thank me or whatever. But a line from you about you and about Romans or whatever. I love letters. Ok, before I can sound more berserk than I already do, I shall end.
Blessings,
-----
Dear all,
Hello!
Thank you for the sharings. They are very encouraging and I learn new things from them. I think we don't have to share anything utterly "cheem" but just let the Word sink in and share from our heart. It would be very cool if more people share (hint hint) a line or two. I mean, I like to be long-winded but a short line can do as much (and even more) than any number of paragraphs. And I believe writing in is as much an action as it is a reflection. We encourage each other and ourselves, and develop (as P--- would call it) a rhythm of Bible reading and a pattern of encouragement. =D
Romans 7-9 presents some very challenging thoughts--challenging to human pride, that is. First of all, Romans 9 talks about God having mercy on whom he will, and the troubling example of Pharoah being raised up specifically to become hardened and for God to display his power to the world through him. I found this hard to swallow when younger. The question "Then why does God still blame us?" (9:19) was in my thoughts.
I suppose eventually one finds out that one has missed the trees for the wood (or however the saying goes). Reading this passage again, I realise that my thinking has changed over the years (hopefully this is the "being transformed by the renewing of your mind through the Holy Spirit" thingy in Romans 12:2). Rather than being a piece about God's harshness, Romans 7-9 presents His incomparable mercy. First there is a dilemma: we are at war within ourselves because we keep doing bad things which we don't want to do. But we are saved from this "law of sin" through Jesus so that we no longer need to fight from the losing side. We can start from the winning side instead. Like B-- said, we are called to work out our salvation and not work at our salvation, which I think is a powerful summary of the whole book of Romans.
Thus, we have the amazing freedom of living by the Spirit and no longer being trapped by sin. We are free to do anything and be anything, and not just keep acting self-destructively. I'm in the Humanities (i.e Literature, theatre and so on) and there people are always saying things to the effect that Christianity is controlling and limiting and whatnot. But I think that this is not true and I am angry. Yes. I am. Angry. (no, not the wanna shout back kind of anger). I had a Bible teacher once who compared living in sin to having a whole field to move around in, yet we insist in walking into the post in the middle, just coz' God said don't walk into it, it's not good for you. I guess that's a simpler analogy of what happened in Eden.
I would like to share, though, that this rhetoric of freedom can be daunting to people trapped in cycles of sin (like addiction and stuff). I had a friend who would think herself condemned when she read these verses, because she couldn't seem to be victorious over sin like all the stuff conventional church preaching says. And I don't mean to say that the Bible is wrong. I think this is something we absolutely need to know. It's just that real life can be pretty messy and in my experience most of the time God doesn't miraculously take our predilection to sinning away and leave us completely pure and holy do-gooders. But why do we still face temptation (and sometimes give in)? I guess God wants us to find our strength to stand up under temptation, and He wants us to find our strength in Him. If that means making a few more errors while we go the wrong way in order to find the right one, His mercy is such that He allows it. Because He doesn't want us to remain softies who fall at one blow (though it's perfectly fine that that's what I am now). He wants us to grow to be mature Christians.
So I've found that in my life and in the life of others, God clears us of our sins instantly (justification), so we have complete salvation. At the same time, and paradoxically so, redemption is a process. God isn't finished yet. There's a future glory that's just waiting to be revealed, that's so much more that anything we can imagine, and so much more than our sufferings can ever win for us, because it's a glory that Christ won for us through his death and resurrection (8:18). Don't you know the whole of creation is waiting for the moment when Christ comes back again (8:20)? Maybe that's what we are all really looking for, deep inside even without knowing it (8:23). Isn't that why we changed fairy tales to have happy endings? Aren't we all waiting for that ultimate happy ending? We are waiting for the redemption of our bodies, to be completely free of the sinful nature. Meanwhile, from what I've seen and known, I believe that God works in redemptive cycles in the lives of those who are trapped in cycles of sin. I have witnessed it in the lives of people around me. One who had constant outbursts of anger grew less angry over time, though she still continued to have outbursts. Eventually she stopped altogether. One who was trapped in addiction slowly came out of it, not without pain--but over the years, the desire for short-lived pleasure and self-gratification is slowly being replaced with the desire to please God, so that one gives in less and less to the addiction over time. And one whose life moved in cycles of depression found that each cycle, though more painful, ended in far more peace and joy than she could ever find on her own, all due only to the grace of God. We are all, I think, moving in redemptive cycles, slowly being weaned off an addiction to ourselves and placed on the highway to freedom in Christ. It is more true than we could ever know, that "the path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, growing every brighter till the full light of day" (from Proverbs, but I'm rushing off now so I can't find the reference. sorry)
So I ended somewhat off the topic but I just felt moved to give my testimony from the passage. I told you Romans 8 is my favourite! Please write back! (and I don't mean K-- and B--). Don't you know it makes me feel like glass to write and write from the core of my being and face only a crystal silence? Just a line! Not to thank me or whatever. But a line from you about you and about Romans or whatever. I love letters. Ok, before I can sound more berserk than I already do, I shall end.
Blessings,
-----
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread
I used to spend a great deal of time worrying about whether I could stay two steps ahead of my work. And then worrying when I couldn't. And then worrying whether I would be able to catch up tomorrow. This semester of studies I am barely able to keep up, if at all, especially since I am now "old" in my youth service and have to step up to lead a lot more. Between church activities, campus activities, and the six modules I'm taking for this semester (insane, I know), I should have plenty to worry about. But I'm not. Strangely. This semester seems to be about learning that God will give me my daily bread, and to trust Him for that. I am learning to trust that God gives enough for the day, that I will somehow be able to finish my work in time, despite giving up my time for church and praying and friendship. And throughout these weeks I have had just enough hours in the day to accomplish what that day required. And if I didn't finish what the world has demanded I finish, I know I did my best by my Father's standards. When all's said and done and the final bell tolls, I think God's not going to ask me how many A's I got but how many disciples I made, how many moments I made count for Him.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Preparing for an answer
And one thing more: Prepare a guest room for me, because I hope to be restored to you in answer to your prayers.
--Philemon 22 (NIV)
I found myself stuck at this verse.
Chian Ming (my CG leader) had painstakingly typed out the entire letter to Philemon because she was unaware that there were online Bible resources. As I was reading through the epistle, this verse stopped me in my tracks.
I suppose it's because of Paul's confidence that he would be released from prison, what with the instructions to prepare for his visit. And I wondered if I ever had so much faith, or at least, faith enough to make plans in anticipation of God's favourable response.
There's this story I heard a long time ago, and you might have heard it too, of how a community that was in the midst of a terrible drought got together to pray for rain. And then they stood out in the open to wait for the rain. At some point someone spotted in the crowd a girl with an umbrella, and so he/she asked her why she was carrying an umbrella. She said she wanted to be prepared for the rain.
I realise that all too often, I pray and then wait for an answer, but I do nothing to prepare myself for it. Maybe, to put it in simplistic terms, I have been treating prayer like a competition in which I submit my entry and then just wait for the results, rather than an ongoing effort like fishing or farming or helping organise a trip/reunion.
Paul's words to Philemon are an apt reminder to pray with anticipation.
--Philemon 22 (NIV)
I found myself stuck at this verse.
Chian Ming (my CG leader) had painstakingly typed out the entire letter to Philemon because she was unaware that there were online Bible resources. As I was reading through the epistle, this verse stopped me in my tracks.
I suppose it's because of Paul's confidence that he would be released from prison, what with the instructions to prepare for his visit. And I wondered if I ever had so much faith, or at least, faith enough to make plans in anticipation of God's favourable response.
There's this story I heard a long time ago, and you might have heard it too, of how a community that was in the midst of a terrible drought got together to pray for rain. And then they stood out in the open to wait for the rain. At some point someone spotted in the crowd a girl with an umbrella, and so he/she asked her why she was carrying an umbrella. She said she wanted to be prepared for the rain.
I realise that all too often, I pray and then wait for an answer, but I do nothing to prepare myself for it. Maybe, to put it in simplistic terms, I have been treating prayer like a competition in which I submit my entry and then just wait for the results, rather than an ongoing effort like fishing or farming or helping organise a trip/reunion.
Paul's words to Philemon are an apt reminder to pray with anticipation.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
How the past returns!
(I wrote this post in fragments and snatches over the last twelve days.)
* * * * *
If you told me three years ago that I would one day lead worship on guitar, I wouldn't believe you.
If you told me my childhood fascination with invertebrates and Mum's agreeing to buy me that first BUGS! magazine some twelve years ago would lead me to this course (and perhaps my very future!), I wouldn't believe you.
If you told me my first toy camera about ten years ago would lead me eventually to the D50 (via the Ricoh, nearly countless rolls of film and the G400) and my ever-growing passion for photography, I would have thought it incredible.
* * * * *
Laura led the second worship session at the recent PKV Leaders' Training Retreat. One of the songs we sang was 'Won't You Lord'.
Won't You Lord
Take a look at our hands
Everything we have
Use it for your plan
Won't You Lord
Take a look at our hearts
Mould it, refine it
As you set us apart
Chorus:
We want to run to the altar
And catch the fire
To stand in the gap
Between the living and the dead
Give us a heart of compassion
For a world without vision
We will make a difference
Bringing hope to our land
Bridge:
We will answer the call
To build this church without walls
Let Your glory be shown
Bring salvation to the lost
To the lost
It virtually became the LTR theme song (at least to me) when Kim Cheng drew so many lessons from it, weaving it into her message and challenge to us.
Laura. From the days in the VI's CU to a near-chance encounter at UM's Festival Seni about a year ago, and now to this... how God has weaved our lives together. Two years ago I would have never imagined serving as her colleague in university!
* * * * *
Kim Cheng shared from Romans 12:1-2.
Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God--this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing and perfect will.
And this is what being a church without walls is all about.
This is what the altar means to us.
Above all this is the heart of God's work of consecration and the definition of a 'set apart' leader.
I have always found this verse difficult, and maybe for that very reason I should keep it before me especially since it is the most troublesome and incising truths that have the greatest potential to change us.
* * * * *
Pastor Vincent opened the year with Acts 1:8.
"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
I left church that day with this question in my head; "Is this God's call to go and His promise to change us by His power?"
GT's theme this year is "The Year of EmPOWERment" (yes, spelt verbatim), and I don't think they could've found a more misrepresented word.
Among Christians in general, some cling on religiously to the word, entertaining dreams of untold power and the ability to control their lives and the lives of others around them. Others, on the other hand, are sceptical about it; surely the Gospel is a message of laying down our arms and not one of domination.
And both have their reasons and there are perhaps many other stances on the word 'power' but this is not the point.
The point is that the promise of the Spirit is a promise of power. It is the promise of a power to do what only God can, and man cannot. In Zechariah 4:6, God declares: "Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit."
Looking ahead to the months before me, I am at once overwhelmed by the immensity of the task at hand and the many challenges of balancing ministry and the 'day job' and also the challenge to turning the 'day job' into ministry and ministry into the daily job, yet at the same time I am encouraged and strengthened knowing that I can--and I must, for no human can do this by the strength of man alone--draw on a power beyond me and beyond this universe.
* * * * *
God must have a sense of humour to recruit the people he does. Surely it is not because He has limited resources, for He can raise anyone, even a donkey in the classic account of Balaam!
But such is God's nature to use the most unlikely of servants.
And such is God's nature to 'resurrect' things buried in the past and redeem them in the present in ways we can never imagine. To see all these things I knew before, taking on a new significance now... it's just beyond my comprehension. How the mistakes of the past have been redeemed, how my weaknesses have been a backdrop for the display of God's grace and mercy, how the little insignificant decisions made many years ago have shaped the many years that followed.
I journey on.
* * * * *
If you told me three years ago that I would one day lead worship on guitar, I wouldn't believe you.
If you told me my childhood fascination with invertebrates and Mum's agreeing to buy me that first BUGS! magazine some twelve years ago would lead me to this course (and perhaps my very future!), I wouldn't believe you.
If you told me my first toy camera about ten years ago would lead me eventually to the D50 (via the Ricoh, nearly countless rolls of film and the G400) and my ever-growing passion for photography, I would have thought it incredible.
* * * * *
Laura led the second worship session at the recent PKV Leaders' Training Retreat. One of the songs we sang was 'Won't You Lord'.
Won't You Lord
Take a look at our hands
Everything we have
Use it for your plan
Won't You Lord
Take a look at our hearts
Mould it, refine it
As you set us apart
Chorus:
We want to run to the altar
And catch the fire
To stand in the gap
Between the living and the dead
Give us a heart of compassion
For a world without vision
We will make a difference
Bringing hope to our land
Bridge:
We will answer the call
To build this church without walls
Let Your glory be shown
Bring salvation to the lost
To the lost
It virtually became the LTR theme song (at least to me) when Kim Cheng drew so many lessons from it, weaving it into her message and challenge to us.
Laura. From the days in the VI's CU to a near-chance encounter at UM's Festival Seni about a year ago, and now to this... how God has weaved our lives together. Two years ago I would have never imagined serving as her colleague in university!
* * * * *
Kim Cheng shared from Romans 12:1-2.
Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God--this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing and perfect will.
And this is what being a church without walls is all about.
This is what the altar means to us.
Above all this is the heart of God's work of consecration and the definition of a 'set apart' leader.
I have always found this verse difficult, and maybe for that very reason I should keep it before me especially since it is the most troublesome and incising truths that have the greatest potential to change us.
* * * * *
Pastor Vincent opened the year with Acts 1:8.
"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
I left church that day with this question in my head; "Is this God's call to go and His promise to change us by His power?"
GT's theme this year is "The Year of EmPOWERment" (yes, spelt verbatim), and I don't think they could've found a more misrepresented word.
Among Christians in general, some cling on religiously to the word, entertaining dreams of untold power and the ability to control their lives and the lives of others around them. Others, on the other hand, are sceptical about it; surely the Gospel is a message of laying down our arms and not one of domination.
And both have their reasons and there are perhaps many other stances on the word 'power' but this is not the point.
The point is that the promise of the Spirit is a promise of power. It is the promise of a power to do what only God can, and man cannot. In Zechariah 4:6, God declares: "Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit."
Looking ahead to the months before me, I am at once overwhelmed by the immensity of the task at hand and the many challenges of balancing ministry and the 'day job' and also the challenge to turning the 'day job' into ministry and ministry into the daily job, yet at the same time I am encouraged and strengthened knowing that I can--and I must, for no human can do this by the strength of man alone--draw on a power beyond me and beyond this universe.
* * * * *
God must have a sense of humour to recruit the people he does. Surely it is not because He has limited resources, for He can raise anyone, even a donkey in the classic account of Balaam!
But such is God's nature to use the most unlikely of servants.
And such is God's nature to 'resurrect' things buried in the past and redeem them in the present in ways we can never imagine. To see all these things I knew before, taking on a new significance now... it's just beyond my comprehension. How the mistakes of the past have been redeemed, how my weaknesses have been a backdrop for the display of God's grace and mercy, how the little insignificant decisions made many years ago have shaped the many years that followed.
I journey on.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
How Deep, High, Long and Wide is the Love of Christ
As bread that is broken
Use our lives
As wine that is poured out
A willing sacrifice
Empower us Father
To share the love of Christ
As bread that is broken Lord
Use our lives
~Paul Baloche and Claire Cloninger
Use our lives
As wine that is poured out
A willing sacrifice
Empower us Father
To share the love of Christ
As bread that is broken Lord
Use our lives
~Paul Baloche and Claire Cloninger
I spent the last few months of 2007 preparing for HIGHER, my church's youth camp. The preparation, and the camp itself, is an experience that I still can't put words to. I have never had the privilege to be part of something so big, with 130 odd campers, and so humbling when we caught a glimpse of God's awesome love for us. I could congratulate myself for sticking to the job and giving my all for this (which I have never done before, being normally inconsistent), etc etc, but in my heart I know it's not the complete story. I know I only did a good job because there was a strong sense of God's intention for the camp, His Higher purpose, throughout the planning. Our leaders prayed over it and gave us their complete support; church administrators helped us with food; plans that fell through came together again in the nick of time.I was especially humbled by the way everyone in the committee gave their best for the Lord through this camp. With such a cloud of witnesses, there was no reason to run half-heartedly. And I believe God has used this camp to prepare us as a community for His service in this year.
This year I want to learn a little more what it means to serve as broken bread and poured out wine. I don't think it is possible to ever come to the end of learning this. Perhaps that's what all this excitement about Jabez and enlarging our territory means. God will continue to draw us to the very edge of ourselves, our abilities. If I think I cannot possibly be more broken than I was last year, or that I have not one more drop left to give, that's when I learn how God's strength is made perfect in my weakness. I need to realise just how empty I am so that I can be filled with God's strength and love, filled to overflowing, filled to the point that my heart is stretched and my spirit enlarged. And I will have learnt more the depth of Christ's love and forgiveness, participated more in his sufferings, and anticipated more of the glory to come. That's what I want out of this year: to enter the depths of Christ's love in serving to the point of brokenness. And to remember (as the melancholic me often forgets) that in the midst of that brokenness I can still rejoice in the knowledge that what is in store will be so much greater, and worth the effort, just as Christ, knowing the glory that was ahead of him, endured the cross.
This year I want to learn a little more what it means to serve as broken bread and poured out wine. I don't think it is possible to ever come to the end of learning this. Perhaps that's what all this excitement about Jabez and enlarging our territory means. God will continue to draw us to the very edge of ourselves, our abilities. If I think I cannot possibly be more broken than I was last year, or that I have not one more drop left to give, that's when I learn how God's strength is made perfect in my weakness. I need to realise just how empty I am so that I can be filled with God's strength and love, filled to overflowing, filled to the point that my heart is stretched and my spirit enlarged. And I will have learnt more the depth of Christ's love and forgiveness, participated more in his sufferings, and anticipated more of the glory to come. That's what I want out of this year: to enter the depths of Christ's love in serving to the point of brokenness. And to remember (as the melancholic me often forgets) that in the midst of that brokenness I can still rejoice in the knowledge that what is in store will be so much greater, and worth the effort, just as Christ, knowing the glory that was ahead of him, endured the cross.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)