What does surrender look like?

I'm re-reading Elizabeth Goudge's The Dean's Watch, a Christmastime treat to myself. (Ignore the lame dustjacket cover at left. The book is wayyyy better than the picture would ever lead you to believe.)  

Take a few moments to enjoy her beautiful description of a life completely surrendered to God: 

     "...she took a vow to love. Millions before her had taken the same simple vow but she was different from the majority because she kept her vow, kept it even after she had discovered the cost of simplicity. Until now she had only read her Bible as a pious exerise, but now she read it as an engineer reads a blueprint and a traveler a map, unemotionally because she was not emotional, but with a profound concentrations because her life depended on it. Bit by bit over a period of years that seemed to her long, she began to get all her scaffolding into place. She saw that all her powers, even those which had seemed to mitigate against love, such as her shrewdness which had always been quick to see the faults of others, her ambition and self-will, could by a change of direction be bound over in service to the one overmastering purpose. She saw that she must turn from herself, and began to see something of the discipline that that entailed, and found too as she struggled that no one and nothing by themselves seemed to have the power to entirely hold her when she turned to them. 

     "It was then that the central figure of the Gospels, a historical figure whom she deeply revered and sought to imitate, began at rare intervals to flash out at her like live lightning from their pages, frightening her, turning the grave blueprint into a dazzle of reflected fire. Gradually she learned to see that her fear was not of the lightning itself but what it showed her of the nature of love, for it dazzled behind the stark horror of Calvary. At this point, where so many vowed lovers faint and fail, Mary Montague went doggedly on over another period of years that seemed if possible longer and harder than the former period. At some point along the way, she did not know where because the change came so slowly and gradually, she realized that He had got her and got everything. His love held and illumined every human being for whom she was concerned, and whom she served with the profound compassion which was their need and right, behind the Cathedral, the city, every flower and leaf and creature, giving it reality and beauty. She could not take her eyes from the incredible glory of His love. As far as it was possible for a human being in this world she had turned from herself..."

Have you ever known anyone like Miss Montague? 

 

I'm dreaming of...

"Why would God waste 8 hours of each day?" I once heard a conference speaker ask his audience. "If we serve a God who communicates with us, why would He remain silent at night while we sleep?" 

This Advent, I have been amazed at the way God told His story to those who were willing to hear Him in dreams and visitations. Those with hearing eyes and seeing ears.   

Yosef ben-Yaacov had always known God spoke in dreams to both His friends and to those who opposed Him. And then Yosef himself saw and heard with stunning clarity as he dreamed:

"An angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, 'Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins" (Matthew 1:20-21). 

Shame and pain had perhaps blanketed his days since Miriam had come to him to tell him she was with Child. The irrational explained his betrothed tangle's of improbable words about her condition. Truth, blazing like the sun. The carpenter built his life, and Miriam's, from obedience in daylight's harsh glare of daylight to the mystery that had been spoken to him in a dream. 

God-dreams directed Joseph's steps at least three more times:

...Take the Child and flee to Egypt (Mt. 2:13). Leave your life to save the Child's. 

...It's safe to return to Israel (Mt. 2:19-20). The Child needs to return home. 

...Go live in Galilee (Mt. 2:22-23). Live and work and laugh and worship in this place. The Child will learn the pattern of obedience from no better instructor than you, Joseph. 

We who look for certainty and confirmation in triplicate would do well to be apprenticed to Saint Yosef this Christmas season, day and night. He responded to mystery with obedience. 

Sweet dreams to each one of you. 

Book review: The Unseen

TracFones. Brainwashing. Surveillance. Creep Club. CIA. Parkour. Characters named Dilbert, Humpty, Swarm and Snake. All populate a shadowy world featured in T. L. Hines' techno-supernatural 386-page hardcover fiction release, The Unseen (Nelson). 

The book tells the story of Lucas, an urban nomad who lives in the airspaces and attics of office buildings. He has no past, and his present is formed by searching for emotional "connections" with those on whom he spies. If he feels one, he steals pictures or other artifacts from their cubicles. He eats the stuff the rest of us leave behind in office refrigerators, and works for spare change doing odd jobs...until he is discovered by one of a group of other free-lance surveillance junkies who bill themselves as The Creep Club. This group of voyeurs lurks in office buildings, but also spies in private homes, filming the ugliness they see in order to showcase their scores to the others in the Club. These connections are used to pull Lucas into a labrynth-like sinister plot. Is he just a robotic drone, programmed from his youth to play this exact role in an evil drama - or can truth set him free? (Hmm.)  

So, a couple of disclaimers here: I am not a fan of frigid, connection-less protagonists or paranoia-driven plots in fiction. I'm also not a fan of contempo-techno page-turners. The book came to me as a review project, so I waded through it even though my distaste for the genre in general and Lucas in particular tempted me to push it aside after the first couple of chapters. I realize I am not T.L. Hines target audience. 

But when I consider the book's intended readers (my guess: gamer guys under age 40), I can mention some positives of this dark story. The plot has elements of "clever your way out of the death trap" video games and the Bourne movies. Hines does a great job creating a cold, gray, isolated world in which his grim characters act and react. And though Lucas' inner world is not a particularly welcoming place, I eventually developed some sympathy for him, thanks to Hines' slow revelation throughout the book about what brought Lucas to the troubling life he was living. And the book snapshots a fragment of the zeitgeist of our time: our culture encourages us to be voyeurs and watchers, not connectors. 

One continuing annoyance throughout the book was the name "The Creep Club". I could not get past the fact that this sounded like something a catty group of fourth-grade girls would call the nerdy boys in their class. I wished Hines could have come up with a less-childish moniker, especially since The Creep Club is core to the book's plot. 

Hines is a good story-teller, and if you enjoy this genre, you'll probably enjoy The Unseen.

Deep questions on a December snow day

Why do the same Christmas decorations that look so festive in mid-December look so tacky in mid-January? (And why do some Christmas decorations look tacky no matter when you plug them in and inflate them on your lawn?)

When did the term "Thundersnow" start getting used by TV meteorologists?

Does anyone else find the breathless reporting about how much people do (or don't) spend on Black Friday - and throughout the "Holiday Shopping Season" - seem a little like examining someone else's navel lint under a high-powered electron microscope? 

What did you get for Christmas 2 years ago? (Yeah, I mostly can't remember, either.) 

Does anyone else think that the one of the loveliest Christmas carols of all is "O Come, O Come Emmanuel"? 

Not the usual carol

Here's a different kind of Christmas song on which to meditate this Advent...

Revelation 15 captures the worship of those who have endured 

through the torment unleashed on believers by the Christ-loathing beast. This beast, demanding unquestioning fealty, adoration and obedience from his followers, tried wringing worship from the Christ-ones. As God's final judgment is about to be poured out on the beast and his toxic followers, a song rises from the overcomers. Their song rises to their Deliverer as they stand beside a fiery, still, pure sea. 

They sing the same sort of song sung by Moses in Exodus 15.  Moses saw heaven touch earth as the Red Sea split and stood, allowing deliverance to come to people who'd endured the torment of a ruler who'd punished them when they refused to worship him. He sang what he heard in that eternity-saturated moment. 

And what Moses heard was the song of the Lamb:

"Great and marvelous are your deeds, Lord God Almighty.

Just and true are your ways, King of the ages.

Who will not fear you, O Lord, and bring glory to your name?

For you alone are holy. 

All nations will come and worship before you, 

for your righteous acts have been revealed." (Rev. 15:3-4)

May you find a quiet place to be alone with the Lord during this Christmas season. Allow the silence to still your busy, worried soul. 

And then sing this song. No musical accompaniment, no tune, save the one you create. Worship your Deliverer, a Baby wrapped in rags. Worship your coming King. 

 

Let's review

Shortly after I began homeschooling in 1992, I responded to a "help wanted" note I found at an  online homeschool message board I frequented. The editor of this magazine was looking for curriculum reviewers. I tossed my hat in the ring, and ended up reviewing language arts and social studies curriculum for the magazine for most of the years I homeschooled my kids. 

It was so much fun to get a box full of educational surprises. I guinea-pigged some of the stuff on my own kids, and simply evaluated the rest. I was really interested in curriculum design and development because of the freelance writing I'd been doing for a Sunday School curriculum publisher, and the homeschool curriculum review helped me continue to learn and grow in this area. 

Even better, I got to keep the stuff I reviewed. I sold some, passed other tools onto other homeschool moms, and tossed a few terrible, unusable books and software packages directly into the trash once I finished writing up my assessment of them. 

I've missed reviewing, though anyone who knows me knows I will throw out a verbal review of anything I've read or skimmed at the slightest provocation. During my four years of off-and-on employment at the Trinity Bookstore, I loved being able to casually evaluate a whole store full of books. Just as the editor at Practical Homeschooling magazine knew better than to send me a bunch of math books, there were, of course, some densely academic books at the store I left to other readers/students. But I read all kinds of interesting books, and grew as writer, a thinker and most especially, as a follower of Christ as a result. 

So when a couple of different publishers were looking for bloggers who'd review new releases, I jumped at the opportunity. Every so often, reviews of those books will pop up here. Today is one of those days.  Keep reading...

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Who would imagine that the cure for a lifetime of cynicism would be a set of quadruplets? Author and counselor Dr. Stephen Simpson would never have prescribed 4 little babies to any of his clients suffering from a jaundiced faith life, but Dr. Simpson's Great Physician did just that. Assaulted by Joy: The Redemption of a Cynic is a spiritual memoir that traces Simpson's faith journey from his youth in a fundy congregation through the loss of a close friend through his seminary struggles and into marriage. The trajectory of this journey was a downward arc, as Simpson grew increasingly jaded, even as he carved out a career in evangelical Christendom. It took four little babies to begin to drag him upwards again, toward joy. 

I love well-crafted spiritual memoir (think Anne Lamott or Donald Miller) because it gives readers a combo mirror and probe that allows them to understand their own stories. Simpson's memoir is a solid contribution to this genre. Toward the end of the book, he explains the effect of upward gravity on his life: 

 

My cynicism, though alive and well, no longer dominated my personality. I couldn't remain aloof and angry while faced with the reality of God's love. I'd fought a long and terrible war from which I emerged scarred but victorious. I had seen and done awful things, but God had countered them with meaning and beauty that pierced my heart with gladness. He'd sent people into my life as emissaries of his love and grace to prove that I wasn't alone and unlovable. I discovered that nothing melts cynicism faster than love, because that's what the cynic needs most..."

The audience for this book is most definitely those who're on a similar path - weary of religion, and trying to figure out how to keep walking with Jesus when disappointment and sin obscure Him. Simpson is an engaging storyteller. His self-depreciating humor and truthfulness about the mess of his process of moving slowly from cynicism to joy resonated with me. 

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I'd never seen a devotional like this before, and you probably haven't either.  A Faith And Culture Devotional: Daily Readings on Art, Science, and Life, compiled by Veritas Forum founder Kelly Monroe Kullberg and author and educator Lael Arrington, doesn't follow the usual time-honored devotional formula of Bible verse(s), brief inspiring story and/or application, prayer for the day. In fact, I'm not quite sure "devotional" is the right category for this wonderful book. It is a digest of provocative bite-sized essays from respected Christian voices from across our culture's spectrum. Bible and Theology, History, Philosophy, Science, Literature, Arts and Contemporary Culture are each represented in the 15 weeks of daily readings. Contributors include Frederica Matthewes-Green, R.C. Sproul, J.P. Moreland, John Eldredge, Francis Collins, Philip Yancey, and Terry Glaspey. Though all are orthodox in their basic theology, they are not all from the same theological or ideological camp. 

That's the strength of this volume. Though there are devotional elements to it, this volume is more about allowing ourselves to enter into interior dialogue with important ideas. It is intended to help readers live faithfully as learners, and seamlessly weave what we're learning into the whole cloth of our lives. 

Each day's 500-800 word essay is followed by a set of reflection/discussion questions designed to take the day's reading and make it sticky. For instance, on day seven of week one's readings, the day of the week devoted to contemporary culture issues, Erwin McManus writes about a discussion he had with a group of Muslims about Christianity. In summarizing his surprising conversation with the group, he says, "Religion exists not because God loves too little but because we need love so much." The three reflection and discussion questions following his essay are the kind of great, open-ended asks that invite probing thought.

Recommended. Big time. 

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Greasy squeaky wheels

Some cliches live on in our language long after their original context has faded. "The squeaky wheel gets the grease" is one of those cliches. Though no one I know has brought their market wagon into the wheelwright's barn to get some grease applied to a wheel's grinding squeal, the truism embedded in the original observation-turned-cliche persists: vocal complainers attract action.  

Oh, do they ever. 

I've relied on the squeaky wheel strategy when dealing with consumer issues. Michelle vs. Goliath Industries, but Michelle uses her mad, noisy, persistent complaints to wage consumer warfare. And then Michelle wins. Jackpot! Grease applied!  The reward stokes reliance on squeaky wheel skills. Most of us instinctively do the squeaky wheel when there's something important at stake. 

I see this principle at work in most churches. It's amazing what sorts of issues take on a life of their own due to the squalling complaints of a handful of people. Christendom is littered with the carnage of those who've chosen to run their squeaky wheel right into a gathered crowd based on their pet peeve of music style, carpet color, sermon length, lobby decoration and countless other minutae with absolutely no eternal value.  

And yes, though some of those items in the list seem like they might have some eternal value, such as music style or sermon length, I contend that the real (and negative) eternal value comes from the sin that gets stirred up by turning these items into squeaky wheel cage matches. If we lived in a place where gathering to worship might cost us our freedom or even our lives, would we squeak about the stuff we squeak about? 

Of course not. 

During my high school years, I snuck to any kind of church gathering, fellowship group or Bible study I caught wind of. My Jewish parents forbade me to participate. Though I didn't face jail time if they caught me visiting a church, it created huge problems in our already-strained relationship. I walked on razor wire as I balanced their request to abstain from Christian activity with my desire to grow in my new faith. The net result was that I valued the simple act of gathering with other believers, and had little desire to squeal over the small stuff. 

I have lost some of that kingdom urgency in the years since, and have been drawn (sometimes against my will and/or better judgement) into some pretty dumb crises, driven into my life at Indy 500 speeds by squeaky wheels. I've also been the squeaky wheel, usually when it comes to injustice within a local church body, and I've been on the receiving end of the squalling whines of others when I've been in a position of leadership. 

It helped me immensely to have a wise friend once tell me that at least some of those Squeaky Wheels might in fact be my "weaker brothers" (a la this chapter), even if they're more powerful, better educated, more experienced or extremely vociferous about their concerns. The thought gives me a modicum of compassion for them, at least once these squeaky wheels have moved on after they've finished running me over.  

So - a word to squeaky wheels everywhere: It is vitally important to constructively, prayerfully share your convictions when you see there's a problem. It is perhaps even more important to be able to pray "Your kingdom come" over the din of the squealing taking place in your soul.  That is the prayer that nets the eternal answer in your life (and on behalf of the others for whom you claim to squeal) that all your squeaking will never accomplish.  

Portrait of a deadline-driven work life

This is a blurry image, taken with my cell phone, of the organizational tool I use to order my work at the school. It's a crumpled December calendar. The little picture doesn't clearly show the scribbed notes, arrows, crayoned boxes, lists in the margins, or the extra thoughts on the post-it note, attached at the bottom right. 

This is my parable life today.

Shalom, tree!

When I was a little kid, I attended a couple of years of "Sunday School" at the temple to which my parents belonged. They couldn't afford the whole Hebrew school business, which would have put me on the fast track to a Bat Mitzvah at age 13. The temple offered religious education on Sunday mornings for the kids who weren't going to be Bar or Bat Mitzvah-ed. I'm not sure how much religious education went on in class, but I did learn a few things about modern Israel. We heard about a lot of contemporary Jewish heroes in those classes, people like Moshe Dayan and Golda Meir.

But one of my most vivid memories is of receiving cardboard folders with a bright green picture of a tree on them. We were supposed to fill the tree's slots with quarters, maybe a couple of bucks' worth, before bringing them back to class. We were told our quarters would be used to plant trees in Israel. At the time, I remember briefly wondering if the quarters would somehow be planted in the ground and one of those vivid 2-D tree silhouettes pictured inside the cardboard folder would spring up like magic as a result.

This simple act captured my imagination, and it imprinted something more on me. Filling the slots of those folders with quarters connected me to Israel in a very powerful way. I didn't care a lot about Golda Meir when I was a kid, but I always took pride in knowing I had some bright green trees waiting for me to climb in Israel.

A friend who visited Israel a couple of years ago reported that there are mature groves of trees in Israel with little plaques nearby noting that the trees were planted by Jewish schoolchildren. My tree is there!

Last week, Bill and I purchased tickets for our long-awaited trip to Israel. I will walk where Jesus walked, in a land full of my people. I will pray at the Wailing Wall. I will eat falafel. I just might try to climb my tree.

In the midst of making these plans, I had an opportunity to receive a review copy of a glossy gift book entitled Reflections of God's Holy Land: A Personal Journey Through Israel (Nelson). This coffee-table volume was penned by Eva Marie Everson, a Christian author, and Miriam Feinberg Vamosh, a Jewish author and tour educator who specializes in Christian tours of Israel. The book is a picture-filled devotional orientation to the land for Christians - from the Judean Wilderness to Capernaum to the Upper Room - created with a sensitivity not only to the Old Testament sites it captures, but with a deep desire to honor the Jewishness of Christianity.

The co-authors' interfaith friendship is foundational to this hardcover book's tone. Vamosh's historical perspective and Everson's lilting prose blend seamlessly throughout the book. Each of the 38 sites detailed in Reflections of God's Holy Land is given a similar treatment: Scripture referencing the place comes first, follwed by a section entitled "Did You Know?", a couple of pages of historical and geographic information. The section concludes with a devotional exploration of the place that is meant to help readers connect with the spiritual story of the site, whether they ever leave their armchair to visit Israel or not.

Even with a fair amount of text in the book, the format - one or two large pictures per page, captions and lots of white space on the glossy pages - makes it unmistakably an inspirational gift book. My only gripe about the book is that all of the pictures in Reflections have blurred-out, faded edges reminiscent of the kind of pictures you'd find in a Reader's Digest gift book on a nursing home coffee table.

That said, the book certainly helped to whet my appetite for my upcoming trip. It would also serve as a great reminder of a trip for a Christian pilgrim who has visited Israel.