My pastor once noted the fairly vacuous nature of the statement “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life”, particularly as an evangelistic tool.  Because, to be honest, the human response to that would be “That’s great; I love me, too.  And I have a wonderful plan for my life.”

Jesus, speaking to Peter, said:

Most assuredly, I say to you, when you were younger, you girded yourself and walked where you wished; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish.” This He spoke, signifying by what death he would glorify God. And when He had spoken this, He said to him, “Follow Me.”

Isn’t this another way of saying “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your death” ?

I think maybe we’re focusing on the wrong thing.

Mary Barrett was worship leader at Calvary Chapel Merritt Island. In November 2008, God declared that the suffering she had undergone with cancer was complete and called her home.

Mary came to our church (Calvary Chapel Northwest) several years ago, for a “night of worship” on a Saturday night. She also led worship with/for us Sunday morning. I was fortunate enough to be on the schedule that week, so I got to be with her at rehearsal and sing BGV’s for her on some songs that weekend.

Mary also did a handful of songs solo on that Saturday night, including Kathryn Scott’s “Hungry” and Matt Redman’s “Let My Words Be Few”.  At the time, I had never heard either song before.  Since Mary sang other songs that night that she had written, I assumed that these two were hers, too.  And frankly, they should have been.  Both songs — especially “Hungry” — fit her voice so well, it was staggering.  And they also fit her spirit.  When we sang either song later, I always deemed them to be “Mary’s songs” (even after I discovered that she wasn’t the author), and it almost felt sacrilegious for us (or anyone other than Mary) to sing those songs.

The week that I heard that she had died, I was “on”, and “Hungry” was in our set.  Even as we started to rehearse, I felt God lift that feeling of sacrilege from me, and heard Him telling me that He had her singing much greater songs now.

I was reminded of all of this recently at my worship leader’s home.  He and his wife hosted a dinner for all of us, and we sat around and sang afterward.  One of the songs that was picked (”randomly”) was “Let My Words Be Few”.  I immediately thought of Mary, and immediately started to miss her.  It occurred to me how ridiculous this was — I had only been around her for a few hours, while she was a good friend of my worship leader’s family for many years (and probably had known others in the room better than me, too).

Then it dawned on me.  Although she was a wonderful person, the reason that I missed her was how transparent she was as Jesus shined through her.  That’s really why I was drawn to her.  In just a few hours, I saw Jesus very clearly through Mary’s life.

And that’s the kind of person I want to be.

(or It’s getting to where you can’t even caricature stupidity anymore)

Last night, I noted that the Pam and Tim Tebow ad didn’t live up to the apocalyptic predictions that the pro-abortion crowd told us about.  Since they would never admit to being wrong, I suggested a few ways in which they could try to recover  — all of them farcical.  One of my suggestions was that they change course and focus on other things that were “wrong” about the ad — specifically that the commercial advocated violence against women.

Again, I was being farcical.

I’d like to think that millions are reading my blog and that someone with no sense of sarcasm ran with my idea.  But in actuality, it’s just a case of the illogical extreme coming true.

THEY DID IT !!!  The president of NOW actually did it !!!

I am blown away at the celebration of the violence against women in it. That’s what comes across to me even more strongly than the anti-abortion message.

Apparently, you can make this stuff up.

[UPDATE:  One of the commenters over on JT's blog (where I found the link to the article) notes that the Snickers ad with Betty White -- which aired immediately before the Tebow ad -- advocates violence against women and the transgendered.]

Last year, in the month or so leading up to the presidential inauguration, we were told definitively by many (who apparently had the gift of “discernment”) that, in delivering his prayer, Rick Warren would not pray in Jesus’ name, thereby proving the fact that he is in league with the devil, incapable of doing anything good, and beyond even God’s saving power.

Then Rick went and prayed in Jesus’ name.

So what was the reaction of the “discerners”?  Did they celebrate the wide exposure to Jesus’ life-changing power?  Are you on drugs, Mr Spicoli?

Reactions included:

1. Xenophobic outrage that Warren included languages other than English
2. Emphasis on “discerning” interpretation of Warren’s motives behind other parts of the prayer, with no notice of the fact that Warren prayed in Jesus’ name (i.e. not bothering to admit that their prediction was wrong)
3. A select few who actually had the chutzpah to insist (after the fact) that Warren did not pray in Jesus’ name.

Fast-forward approximately one year.

2007 Heisman Trophy winner Tim Tebow and his mother, Pam, were slated to appear in a commercial during the Super Bowl broadcast, sponsored by Focus on the Family.  Despite great potential harm to herself while pregnant with Tim, Pam chose to carry the pregnancy to term rather than have an abortion.

The pro-”choice” crowd of 2010, much like the “discerners” of 2009, were up in arms that Pam Tebow would have the audacity to tell her story of what she chose to do. All media outlets (including sports radio — which I listen to in order to escape political discussion) were giving a lot of play to the alleged controversy.  If we were to believe the pro-”choice” reaction to this ad (which hadn’t aired yet), Tebow himself would be waiting in a back alley with a coat hanger by halftime.

Meanwhile, those with more than 3 brain cells recognized the lunacy of speaking definitively about what was going to occur in the future, and the gross hypocrisy of those who claim to be pro-choice being upset that someone chose not to have an abortion.  Even a self-described pro-choice sports reporter “betrayed” the movement (and her entire gender) by pointing out the stupidity.

Then the ad ran.  Here it is, in all its “controversial” glory:

Frankly, the “Dove Men plus Care” commercial was more overtly about childbirth (it portrayed/described four births, three of which were specifically required) than this ad was.

So the question now becomes, “How does the pro-’choice’ crowd (who only looked like minor idiots before the ad ran) wipe the egg (that’s apparently krazy-glued in place) off their face?”

Even though I’m staunchly pro-life, I’ll throw a bone to this crowd, and suggest a few ways they can recover, based on what we learned from the “discerners” last year.

1. Note the unfairness that Tebow is described as a Heisman Trophy winner, while poor Darren McFadden and Colt Brennan had to go home empty-handed.
2. Focus on other things wrong with the commercial — after all, it clearly endorses violence against women.
3. Like last year’s Holocaust Warren deniers, tell us that the ad was just as you feared, and that it said all sorts of things that it didn’t really say.

Anyone else have any other ideas?

I just finished reading The God Who Smokes by (the ironically-named) Timothy J Stoner. After writing in great length about all of Jesus’ talk (throughout His earthly ministry) of upcoming judgment, Stoner notes:

It’s kind of surprising that Jesus is still seen as this essentially kind, gentle, nonconfrontational, tolerant peace-loving guy. It just goes to show how incredibly appealing this man was. He could say the most offensive, intolerant, even brutal things, and people would keep following Him. It was evident to them that He spoke out of love, not hatred. It was obvious to all that He had no cruel private ax to grind. He did not relish the prospect of punishment. Though He occasionally became furious with His enemies, He did not despise them. The crowd could overlook and forgive His harsh and critical words because this amazing compassion poured out of Him like an overturned vat of perfumed oil.

They tolerated it for almost thirty-six months.

So what does it say about the way I present the truth if I can’t get tolerated for thirty-six seconds?

Way back in 2006, Mark Driscoll was interviewed prior to speaking at the Desiring God conference that year. One of the interview clips can be found here, but I’ll quote the salient part:

When [missionary] Hudson Taylor shows up in China, and dresses in Chinese dress, and learns Chinese language, and eats Chinese food, and gets a Chinese haircut, everybody says, “There’s a good Christian.” When we do that in punk rock culture, people think it’s capitulation. I think there’s hypocrisy there. That’s why we’re not reaching Americans. We have a double-standard that we get stuck on the style and we forget the substance of the Gospel.

A missionary family (we’ll call the couple George and Mary — names changed for safety/anonymity sake) was recently at my church. The people group to whom they minister are very disinterested in reading. So much so that it is not uncommon for houses in that part of the world to lack indoor plumbing but have satellite television. Another example — to be considered a best-seller, a book has to sell only a few thousand copies.

While their ultimate goal is translating the Bible — this people group does not have the Scriptures in their language — George and Mary realize that in the short-term, they need to set a primary focus on spreading the Word through other media (though, even this is not simple, due to laws in their region). As George was describing the unique challenges that they face, he noted that their desire was to be — parents, cover your children’s ears — relevant.

A horrified gasp went up from the congregation when he used such a dirty word. Actually, I’m kidding. His choice of that word summed up what they were trying to do, given the culture of the people with whom they are dealing. His point was that their message to those people is not “get your act together, get interested in reading, and then we’ll deem you worthy of telling you about Jesus”.

I doubt that anyone would fail to laud George and Mary’s efforts. So why, exactly, does any mention of relevance in our culture get poo-poo-ed on so quickly and thoroughly by so many?

Are people in our culture less unsaved? I keep seeing an image of Westerners showing up at the pearly gates, and St Peter does his best Maxwell Smart* impression, saying, “Missed it by that much.”

* (the Don Adams version — I’m old)

As a result of thyroid cancer and the issues surrounding it, film critic Roger Ebert can no longer speak, eat, or drink. In a recent blog post, he addressed the latter two issues. Although Ebert’s artistic bent causes the post to meander a bit — like I’ve got any room to comment on lack of brevity — his bottom line is that he doesn’t miss food that much, but misses the dining experience.

But there is a segment of the post that jumped out at me. I have to quote it at length so you can see where this is coming from:

I dreamed. I was reading Cormac McCarthy’s Suttree, and there’s a passage where the hero, lazing on his river boat on a hot summer day, pulls up a string from the water with a bottle of orange soda attached to it and drinks. I tasted that pop so clearly I can taste it today. Later he’s served a beer in a frosted mug. I don’t drink beer, but the frosted mug evoked for me a long-buried memory of my father and I driving in his old Plymouth to the A&W Root Beer stand (gravel driveways, carhop service, window trays) and his voice saying “…and a five-cent beer for the boy.” The smoke from his Lucky Strike in the car. The heavy summer heat.

For nights I would wake up already focused on that small but heavy glass mug with the ice sliding from it, and the first sip of root beer. I took that sip over and over. The ice slid down across my fingers again and again. But never again.

One day in the hospital my brother-in-law Johnny Hammel and his wife Eunice came to visit. They are two of my favorite people. They’re Jehovah’s Witnesses, and know I’m not. I mention that because they interpreted my story in terms of their faith. I described my fantasies about root beer. I could smell it, taste it, feel it. I desired it. I said I’d remembered so clearly that day with my father for the first time in 60 years.

“You never thought about it before?” Johnny asked.

“Not once.”

“Could be, when the Lord took away your drinking, he gave you back that memory.”

Whether my higher power was the Lord or Cormac McCarthy, those were the words I needed to hear. And from that time I began to replace what I had lost with what I remembered. If I think I want an orange soda right now, it is after all only a desire. People have those all the time. For that matter, when I had the chance, when was the last time I held one of those tall Nehi glass bottles? I doubt I ever had one from a can.

I understand Ebert’s point about missing the dining experience (he goes into that issue later in the post), but this passage is the part that hit me hard. Johnny posited the theory that when God took away one thing, He gave something else.

This reminds me of Job 1:21 :

The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.

This is often interpreted as saying that God’s sovereignty means that He can do whatever He darn well pleases and that we ought to bless His name, regardless of how we see the circumstances. And while this is true, there also seems to be another component as well, perhaps not to be derived specifically from this verse, but in what we learn of God’s nature throughout Scripture.

Jesus, in and of Himself, is sufficient for our every need. And we ought to always strive to recognize that. When God takes something from us (for our own good, or to test us, or both), that hole in our lives somehow always winds up being just the right size and shape for Jesus to fill. But He is also gracious and recognizes our limitations as finite beings. And so, He often gives us more tangible things to fill that void. For example, when it comes in the form of another person, a friend of mine refers to that person as “Jesus with skin on”. But regardless of the nature of the gift, our challenge is always to worship the Creator, not the creature who is standing in for (and provided by) the Creator.

It also puts me in mind of Psalm 37:4 :

Delight yourself also in the LORD, and He shall give you the desires of your heart.

The grab-it-and-blab-it crowd would claim that this verse indicates situations in which God provides for us things that our hearts desire. That is sometimes an accurate interpretation of the verse. But, it seems that it is not so much an issue of God providing the things that our hearts desire, as it is that He provides the desires themselves. In other words, the more we delight ourselves in the Lord, the more He will change our desires to align with His will. And then, in something of a circular manner, God often does provide the things that our hearts desire, because our hearts desire His will.

Now if I can just convince God that His will includes that red Lamborghini over there ….

After a wait of “only” 15 months, Billy: The Early Years finally makes it from the theaters to DVD on March 9, 2010. I reviewed it back when it was still in the theater. This is a fabulous movie, and I don’t say that just because I’m pre-disposed to its message.

Oddly, the trailer on the front page of the movie’s site (now) is overly effusive of its praise for Graham, and totally out of character with the movie. So don’t let that stop you from seeing this, if you didn’t already catch it in theaters.

I’m going to present a quote from a book review. The reviewer is also an author. I am omitting all names (including the reviewer) and the topic of the book, as many (all?) can be polarizing, and I want an honest reaction to the content, not the personalities. No fair googling the quotes before you respond. (The omitted items are in italics.)

I was preparing for the worst when I read in the blurbs that this book “avoids the clamor for extremes” (name withheld), is “the first to be truly gracious” and is great “for any who are tired of straw man arguments and polarizations” (name withheld), and rises above “the usual shallow, facile critiques of [one of the primary topics of this book]” (name withheld).

Is it just me, or is it deeply troubling that the reviewer sees as contemptible (”I was preparing for the worst”) the ideas of avoiding clamor, employing clear logic, and (worst of all) the horrendous sin of being gracious?

Or maybe it’s something else. The very next sentence in the review says:

I can’t help but assume that [my book on the same topic] is one of the “extreme”, “straw man”, “facile” critiques they’re thinking of.

Isn’t this like James-Cameron-level narcissism? I keep hearing Carly Simon singing, “You’re so vain / I bet you think this blurb is about you”.