Category Archive: Uncategorized
It’s ludicrous to believe that successful marriages depend on discovering the one person out of the more than six billion people on earth who is just right for you. — Les & Leslie Parrott, Saving Your Marriage Before It Starts, 31.
The problem the Parrotts identify here is related to a popular view of the will of God. According to this view, God has a plan for your life that will lead to the greatest possible happiness, fulfillment, fruitfulness, and blessing. The plan is not spelled out in Scripture — Scripture doesn’t say what courses you should take in college or what jobs you ought to accept or whom you should marry — but you are responsible to discover the plan and follow it. And if you miss “God’s perfect will for your life” — if you take the wrong classes, accept the wrong job, marry the wrong spouse — the result will be misery.
Well-meaning people sometimes try to comfort a single friend by saying, “Don’t worry. God has someone out there who is just perfect for you. Apparently Bob wasn’t the one, but the right one is out there somewhere.”
Well, maybe. In fact, maybe there are a thousand men who would be, if not Mr. Right, at least a suitable and godly spouse with whom this single girl would be able to have a marriage that glorifies God and that enriches both partners. It simply isn’t true that God has chosen one man (or, if you’re male, one woman) who would be the right spouse and whom you’ve somehow got to locate and wed or you’ll be doomed to marital misery. And it isn’t true that if you marry someone and then have problems, it must mean that you missed out on Mr. or Miss Right, that you missed out on the person God made who would be perfect for you.
There is no Mr. Right, no perfect spouse, no “perfect will of God for your life.” That’s a truth that ought to give singles hope, an increased hope of finding a spouse without being scared off by every flaw and a hope that goes hand in hand with responsibility. Choose wisely, but know that whoever you choose you will not be Mr. and Mrs. Right. And then work in faith to serve God together in your marriage as Mr. and Mrs. Suitable-and-Growing.
Sad news: Fabchannel, which for nine years has been presenting some great concerts, is coming to an end. Too many music labels don’t want them broadcasting concerts of their artists. They’ll have the concerts up for one more week, till March 13, and then … they’re gone. What a pity.
Here are some of the concerts I’ve especially enjoyed:
<a href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/joe_henry_concert/2008-02-12″ mce_href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/joe_henry_concert/2008-02-12″>Live Concert Video – Joe Henry</a>
<a href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/maria_mckee_concert/2005-06-15″ mce_href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/maria_mckee_concert/2005-06-15″>Live Concert Video – Maria Mckee</a>
<a href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/james_hunter_concert/2008-10-13″ mce_href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/james_hunter_concert/2008-10-13″>Live Concert Video – James Hunter</a>
<a href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/andrew_bird_2007_concert/2005-05-01″ mce_href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/andrew_bird_2007_concert/2005-05-01″>Live Concert Video – Andrew Bird</a>
Andrew Bird (again)
<a href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/andrew_bird_2007_concert/2007-05-24″ mce_href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/andrew_bird_2007_concert/2007-05-24″>Live Concert Video – Andrew Bird</a>
<a href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/lizz_wright_concert/2008-10-29″ mce_href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/lizz_wright_concert/2008-10-29″>Live Concert Video – Lizz Wright</a>
<a href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/bettye_lavette_concert/2008-04-09″ mce_href=”http://www.fabchannel.com/bettye_lavette_concert/2008-04-09″>Live Concert Video – Bettye LaVette</a>
There are many more concerts up, including Iron & Wine, The Arcade Fire, Ron Sexsmith, Simple Minds, Shawn Colvin, Luka Bloom, and Solomon Burke. Enjoy them while you can.
Most Sunday mornings at Buckhead Church in downtown Atlanta, one person is conspicuously absent: the senior pastor, Andy Stanley. A nationally known evangelist, Stanley is usually 20 minutes away at North Point Community Church, the suburban megachurch he has led for 13 years. To the 6,000 or so faithful at Buckhead, he appears only on video, his digital image projected in front of the congregation in life-sized 3-D. The preacher is a hologram.
I suspect that the trend started with churches that were standing-room only.Â In many such congregations, the sermon is broadcast into another room in the church building.Â But with video and hologram technology, the minister’s image can appear in the other room, too.Â And if in another room, why not on another campus across town?Â And if there, why not in your town, too?Â In fact, why not inÂ another part of the world entirely?Â As Park says, “With video, you just need seats and a screen to replicate the original.”
And why not, someone might ask.Â The article quotes a man who defends the practice and then sums up his response this way: “If it takes a name-brand preacher to put butts in seats, so be it.”Â After all, who wants to hear Joe Pastor preach when he could hear someone famous instead, someone like Andy Stanley or Rick Warren?
And wouldn’t it make church planting easier in some ways?Â You’d need some local staff, but you wouldn’t need to hire a full-time pastor.Â You’d pay up front for the video machinery, but that would probably be a one-time cost.Â It wouldn’t be equal to a full-time salary, year after year.Â And besides, you’d have instant name recognition.Â “Ever heard of Rick Warren?Â He’s our pastor,” people could say.Â Wouldn’t that draw people?
While some people find it strange at first to worship in front of a big screen, they frequently come to view it as no different than attending a service that is totally live, supporters say. And one day, they might be able to relocate to a new town without changing pastors.
So that’s the new trend, and, as the article says, some of these churches may in fact steamroll over other churches, drawing people to the big name and away from the unknown pastors of these other churches.Â “Forget Rev. Ordinary.Â My pastor is Rev. Superstar.”Â It wouldn’t surprise me at all to find this trend catching on.
But Rev. Superstar doesn’t know your name, and you have never met him face to face.Â Even if he should show up in the flesh some day, you can bet that he won’t come to the hospital when you’re sick.Â He won’t ever look you right in the eyes as he’s preaching.Â He’s just a video and you’ll never really get to know him in person.Â In fact, instead of being a real person to you, a person with a real body, a person who preaching is simply part of his whole-life ministry to you, he’s just flickering lights and recorded words.
Interestingly, Park makes a connection between the attraction to Video Pastor and a certain theology of worship:
To many Christians, though, the sermon is the main event. It’s when all eyes are on the pulpit. It’s when the leader of the church teaches. It’s when the messages in the Bible are distilled for the faithful. Filling that job with piped-in pixels only feeds the celebrity pastor’s star power while creating competition for less-gifted communicators.
“The sermon is the main event.”Â And if that’s true, then there’s pressure on the pastor to be the superstar preacher.Â Every sermon ought to be outstanding.Â And if it’s not, then people will flock to churches pastored by Great Communicators, like Stanley and Warren, people whose preaching they do think is outstanding.
But is the sermon really “the main event”?Â While Reformed people do sometimes speak of “the primacy of preaching,” the better principle is “the primacy of the Word.”Â And the Word comes in many forms throughout the liturgy.Â It comes in the call to worship, in the confession of sin, in the absolution, in the prayers, in the sermon, in the songs, in the benediction.Â In short, the Word is primary because it shows up in everything and it shapes everything in the liturgy.
If we understand that the Word is what is primary, not the sermon alone, and that the Word comes through the whole liturgy, then it may take some of the pressure away from pastors so that they can preach ordinary sermons instead of feeling that every sermon must be fantastic (“or I’ll lose them to some other pastor, maybe some hologram pastor, who preaches better than I do”).
And that Word comes to us, not simply as words in the air, but as words from the lips of a man who is present with us, a man who has come to us and who lives among us, a man we know, a man who is not necessarily anything special in mself but whose “specialness” is simply due to the office that the Lord has given him.
This also, it seems to me, is important.Â It is important that the Word be spoken to you by a man you know, by a man who sometimes has bad breath or whose hair gets mussed up, by a man whose hands reach out and shake yours after the service, by a man who puts his arms around you when you’re grieving, by a man who grips your hand as he prays for you when you’re about to go into the operating room, a man whose kids run around after the service and have to be reined in sometimes, a man who sometimes feels discouraged but who pours himself out during the service anyway, a man who doesn’t simply explain Scripture from a distance but also lives it out up close to you.
Sure, that man is weak.Â He isn’t impressive.Â HeÂ may be a great preacher, but he may also stumble over his words or speak in a bit of aÂ monotone.Â His preaching may be lively and vigorous and exciting, butÂ it may be at times, even most of the time, somewhat dry.Â In fact, his preaching and he himself may seem weak and foolish.Â But that is God’s way of displaying His wisdom and His power:Â not through Rev. Superstar but through Rev. Ordinary.
In a discussion of Eve’s fall into sin in Milton’s Paradise Lost, C. S. Lewis reminds us of the way our minds begin to embrace sin:
No man, perhaps, ever at first described to himself the act he was about to do as Murder, or Adultery, or Fraud, or Treachery, or Perversion; and when he hears it so described by other men he is (in a way) sincerely shocked and surprised.Â Those others “don’t understand.”Â If they knew what it had really been like for him, they would not use those crude “stock” names.Â With a wink or a titter, or in a cloud of muddy emotion, the thing has slipped into his will as something not very extraordinary, something of which, rightly understood and in all his highly peculiar circumstances, he may even feel proud.Â If you or I, reader, ever commit a great crime, be sure we shall feel very much more like Eve than like Iago. â€”Â A Preface to Paradise Lost, p. 126.
Part of the way in which we avoid confronting our own sins, then, is by giving other names to them.Â It’s not “murder”; it’s “euthanasia” or “abortion.”Â It’s not “adultery”; it’s a “love affair.”
On top of that, of course, we also often try to keep our minds from thinking about the sins we’re about to commit, including keeping from naming them, even to ourselves.Â We don’t say, “Now I’m going to have a fit of rage.”Â Instead,Â weÂ simply rage, and then, perhaps because we refused to name the sinÂ when weÂ chose to commit it, we actÂ as if it somehow just happened: “I just blewÂ up!”Â Â A man may not say to himself, “I’m going to go and look atÂ some pornography.”Â He says, “I feel like surfing the web,” and then he refuses to name just what he’sÂ looking for.Â But somehow he finds it.
And when we’re confronted on the sins, our minds start casting about for ways to explain them away, to justify ourselves, again using words other than the “stock” names: “I wasn’t raging;Â I wasÂ a bit irritable, that’s all.Â It wasn’t really adultery.Â I’m married, yes, but that’s really only on paper.Â For all intents and purposes, my marriage is really over and so, if only you understood my unique circumstances, you’d see that what I was doing was really okay.Â It wasn’t as serious and as terrible as you make it out to be.”
So part of our calling as Christians, and part of the church’s calling and the pastor’s calling, is to call sins by their real names, by the “stock” names, the names that we shy away from, the names that reveal our sins for what they really are.
A reminder: I’ve prepared these psalms for our liturgy, trying to be as accurate in my translation as possible. The alternation between plain text and bold is for responsive reading. I invite feedback on the translation!
For the director.
When Nathan the prophet came to him,
As he had come to Bathsheba.
Be gracious to me, O God, according to your loyalty;
According to the multitude of your mercies blot out my rebellions.
Thoroughly wash me from my liability
And from my sin cleanse me,
For my rebellion I myself acknowledge,
And my sin is before you continually.
With regard to you, to you only, have I sinned
And what is evil in your eyes I have done,
In order that you may be righteous when you speak,
And be pure when you judge.
Look, in liability I was born,
And in sin my mother conceived me.
Look, trustworthiness you desired in the inward parts,
And in the hidden part you will make me know wisdom.
You will purge me with hyssop and I will be clean;
You will wash me and I will be whiter than snow.
You will make me hear gladness and joy;
The bones you crushed will shout for joy.
Hide your face from my sins,
And all my liabilities blot out.
A clean heart create in me, O God,
And a steadfast spirit renew within me.
Do not cast me away from before you,
And your holy Spirit do not take from me.
Return to me the gladness of your salvation,
And with a willing spirit support me.
I will teach rebels your way,
And sinners to you will return.
Free me from bloodguiltiness, O God, God of my salvation,
And my tongue will celebrate your righteousness.
Lord, my lips you will open,
And my mouth will declare your praise,
For you do not desire sacrifice, or I would give it;
In Ascension offering you do not delight.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
A heart broken and crushed, O God, you do not despise.
Do good, in your favor, to Zion;
You will build the walls of Jerusalem.
Then you will be pleased with righteous sacrifices, Ascension offering and Whole offering.
Then they will make bulls ascend on your altar.
A few comments about the translation of this psalm:
(1) In line 3, the word for washing is the normal word for washing clothing, not the human body. Liability stains us. Question: Would “launder me” get the idea across?
(2) In line 15, the word translated “purge” has to do with freedom from sin. It’s related to the word for bringing a sin-offering. Hyssop was used for sprinkling those who were unclean.
(3) I’ve followed J. A. Alexander in rendering the verbs in lines 14-17 as future (“You will….”) instead of as imperatives, as most translations have them. More accurately, most translations render the verb in line 14 as a future and then translate all the rest of them as imperatives. It’s certainly possible to translate all of these verbs as imperatives, and, given the context, they doubtless do express David’s desire and prayer.
But the imperatives that start in verse 18 all have a different form. If the previous verbs were all imperatives, then I wonder why the psalmist switched to use a new form. Why not just stay with the form he has been using for imperatives?
So for now, I’ve rendered these desires for the future as simple futures, hoping that the context makes it clear that they aren’t statements about what God is going to do regardless of what David asks, but rather are the future as it will be if God grants David’s pleas.
(4) In line 29, the word translated “bloodguiltiness” is actually “bloods,” but it’s the term that is used when murder and the guilt for committing murder is in view.
(5) In lines 34 and 39, the psalm mentions “Ascension offerings.” Line 39 adds, for emphasis, “Whole offering.” The “Whole offering” is likely another name for the Ascension, which was the offering in which the entire animal went up on the altar and was turned to smoke, which ascended to God’s presence. That is also the explanation of the last line. Making bulls ascend on the altar means presenting them as Ascension offerings.
A reminder: I’ve prepared these psalms for our liturgy, trying to be as accurate in my translation as possible. The alternation between plain text and bold is for responsive reading. I invite feedback on the translation!
For the director.
By the sons of Korah.
All peoples, clap hands!
Shout to God with a voice of exultation,
Because Yahweh Most High is to be feared,
A great king over all the earth.
He will subdue peoples under us
And tribes under our feet.
He will choose for us our inheritance,
The loftiness of Jacob whom he loves. Selah.
God has ascended with a shout,
Yahweh with a sound of a trumpet.
Psalm to God! Psalm!
Psalm to our king! Psalm,
Because the king of all the earth is God.
Psalm a maschil!
God reigns over the nations.
God sits upon his holy throne.
The nobles of the peoples have gathered,
The people of the God of Abraham,
Because to God belong the shields of the earth.
He is exceedingly exalted.
Some comments about the translation of this Psalm:
(1) In line 8, the word “loftiness” is sometimes translated “pride.” It can refer to pride or to any kind of exaltation. The “loftiness of Jacob” may be the Promised Land or, more generally, all the privileges Israel has received.
(2) In line 10, the trumpet is specifically a ram’s horn, which is what the word means.
(3) In lines 11, 12, and 14 there is a summons to sing praise. The word here is the verb form of the word we translate as “psalm,” and so to get that across I have translated this word as a command to “psalm” to God. A “psalm” is praise with voices and instruments, and to “psalm” means to praise God musically, with singing and the playing of instruments.
A maschil is a type of psalm (see, for instance, the titles of Pss. 44, 45). It may refer to a teaching psalm and may have something to do with wisdom and understanding, which is why some versions of the Bible have “sing praises with understanding” here.
Some wisdom from Doug Wilson:
Dominion is a frame of mind and heart. It is not marked by work onlyÂ â€” because slaves also have to work. The difference is this: slaves work at a job; Christians are summoned to a calling. When jobs diminish, or are taken away, or simply are not present, those with a slave mentality do not know what to do. When the first pioneers arrived here in Idaho (a little over one hundred years ago), there were no jobs whatsoever. There was a lot of work to do, but no jobs.
Considered at this level, jobs are not there for people who know how to work (although that is fine). Jobs are rather the creation of those who know how to work. In other words, jobs do not create work. Rather, work creates jobs. But try explaining that to some people.
The same thing, by the way, applies to the pastoral ministry.Â There may not be a lot of jobs, a lot of churches looking to call you to be their minister.Â But there’s a lot of work to be done.
In my previous entry, I mentioned that Moriah and I strongly disliked the character Michael Vaughn (played by Michael Vartan) in Alias.Â One reason for our dislike was that he rarely seemed happy.Â Weiss cracked jokes and didn’t take himself seriously.Â Will went through great trauma and yet came through it with his sense of humor intact.Â But Vaughn seemed glum from the start.
But it wasn’t just that he was overly serious or that he was often mopey or that there were too many scenes where he gazed at Sydney with sad eyes which we were probably to take as revealing his deep sensitivity.Â It wasn’t even that he was headstrong or that he went rogue and did dumb things, annoying as that was.Â What bothered us the most, I think, was that when things didn’t go his way he was angry and, as a result, loud, demanding, and pushy.
He should have been the one named Jack.Â If you’ve watched 24 and Lost, you might catch what I mean by that.
Moriah and I have seen only the first season of 24.Â If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you may remember that I praised the show for its portrayal of mature men.
I’m rethinking that appraisal in part because it seems to me from what I’ve watched and from what I’ve heard that Jack Bauer often comes across as an angry and demanding man, a man who will raise his voice to try to make someone do what he wants or whoÂ willÂ perform an act of violence to get his way.
Granted, he’s in a desperate situation and desperate men do desperate things.Â When you have only twenty-four hours to save the world, impatience is understandable.Â And again, I’ve watched onlyÂ the one season and that was some time ago, so my memory of it is fuzzy.Â Perhaps we can cut Jack Bauer some slack on this score.
I’m less tolerant of Jack Shepherd in Lost, who frequently smoulders with rage and raises his voice to attempt to bully people into doing what he wants.Â In this third season, he’s been locked away much of the time.Â Instead of speaking calmly to those who have him captive, he shouts at them, as if that’s going to do any good.Â That isn’t mature masculinity; it’s childish temper.
Again, he’s in difficult circumstances and, like all the characters on Lost, he has some dark stuff in his background.Â Perhaps we’re intended to see Jack as an immature, proud, angry man who has to learn to humble himself and grow up and start acting like an adult so that he doesn’t turn out like Michael, the other angry man on Lost, whose immature behavior originally cost him his wife and son and who left the show (so far, at least) having committed a horrible sin without repentance.
Perhaps.Â But I’ve heard that there are people who regard Jack as one of the heroes, which seems to mean that they approve of his behavior.Â I don’t understand that, but it was hearing that that sparked my meditations on this subject.
In three different shows, two with the same creator, we have main characters who respond to obstacles and challenges not with humility and creativity, not with gentleness and meekness, not with wisdom and maturity, but with violent words and violent actions.Â They’ll shout at you until you submit, and if that doesn’t work, they’ll hurt you.Â But at all costs, they must have their way.Â Do these shows intend us to see such men as heroes?
I’ve met people like that, people who thought they were mature men because they were decisive, knewÂ what they wanted, and would trample over any obstacle on their path.Â In my sin, I’ve acted like that sometimes.Â And the good thing about Jack Shepherd on Lost, whether the writers intended this or not, is that he doesn’t look likeÂ a hero to me at all, which means that the behavior I sometimes exhibit looks petty, pouty, childish, and evil to me, exactly as it should.
I can give one or two cheers for a portrayal of men who are able to make decisions, to take responsibility, to act boldly and do what needs to be done, and I can learn something about maturity from those aspects of their character.Â But when it comes to their response to anyone who stands in their way, I pray that I may not be like the Jacks.
Recently, Moriah and I finished watching all five seasons of Alias, which Moriah had found cheap at a secondhand store.Â There was a lot we enjoyed aboutÂ Alias.Â What interests me, however, is that it seemed to us as if we weren’t exactly tracking with the makers of the show.
Spoiler alert: If you plan to watch the show, you’ll probably want to stop reading at this point.
For instance, consider the characters.Â Â Moriah and I liked the main character, Sydney Bristow, well enough at first when she was still smiling and had friends.Â As the show progressed, however, she grew darker and more serious.Â I don’t recall her smiling as much.Â She didn’t seem to have a life outside of her work.
Plus, she was involved with Michael Vaughn, originally her CIA handler.Â I’ll say more about Vaughn later, but for now I’ll just say that Moriah and I couldn’t stand him.Â Perhaps it was due to the limitations of the actor, though I suspect it was more the limitations of the script, but he seemed to have two ways of acting: either he was mopey, with sad eyes, probably intended to seem sensitive, or he was angry, angry, ANGRY.Â His character didn’t develop; it was never more than two-dimensional.
As a result, we really didn’t want the two of them to be together.Â Sydney’s old friend, Will Tippen, would have been a far better match for her.Â But instead, we had to put up with Sydney and Vaughn gazing into each other’s eyes, Vaughn looking sensitive.
Furthermore, the show seemed to want us to believe in the rightness of their love, to think there was something beautiful and special and right about the two of them being together.Â But Moriah and I thought they were ill-matched and frankly dull together, especially compared to Weiss and Nadia.Â Besides,Â in one season Vaughn was married and it seemed to us that the show wanted us to hope that the marriage would fall apart so that Vaughn and Sydney could be together.Â I know, I know: Vaughn’s wife turned out to be bad.Â But I resent it when a show tries to make me disdain marriage.
The characters Moriah and I liked best were either the minor characters or the bad guys.Â Marshall Flinkman was in some ways a stock character, the brainy geek who can do anything on the computer and who says strange things because he’s off in his own world and is socially inept.Â In some episodes, he was simply a stereotype and was included for some comic relief.
On the other hand, from time to time, he developed as a character.Â My favorite moment in the entire show, I think, was when Marshall,Â who hates flying, is taken alongÂ onÂ one of Sydney’sÂ missions.Â Afraid, he invents aÂ suit jacket parachute with an extra belt so thatÂ if theÂ plane goesÂ down, he can save Sydney, too.Â The plane, of course, doesn’t crash.
But Marshall gets captured by a villain.Â When Sydney tries toÂ rescue him,Â sheÂ gets trapped with him in a building, forty (?) storiesÂ up.Â There’s no escape. Or is there?Â MarshallÂ tells her to smash the window.Â SheÂ reminds him howÂ high they are.Â He tells her thatÂ the jacket he’s wearing has the parachute and that theÂ parachute will support her weight, too.Â And then he says the line he’s always wanted to say: “My name is Marshall J. Flinkman, and I’m here to rescue you.”Â Perfect.
But again, the show doesn’t give Marshall the respect he deserves.Â He can’t get respect from the other characters most of the timeÂ and all too often the show reduces him to a stereotype.Â Only rarely does he get to shine.
The same is true of Eric Weiss.Â Weiss starts off as Vaughn’s partner.Â When everyone else is overly serious, Weiss is cracking jokes, usually self-deprecating ones.Â He’s considerate and thoughtful.Â For a while, it seemed as if the show was going to do something with him.Â He didn’t simply have to stay at home; he got to go on missions.
Eventually, he even got a girl and, as I mentioned above, his relationship with Nadia is full of laughter and fun.Â It seemed as if we were supposed to view their relationships as somewhat juvenile, compared to Sydney and Vaughn’s serious love, though it’s actually that sort of mopey love that’s more characteristic of the high school soap opera than the trueÂ and humble delight in each other that Weiss and Nadia display.
Finally, we come to Arvin Sloane.Â I don’t know how the show expects us to view Sloane, but Moriah and I generally liked him.Â We didn’t always like what he did: he is a villain much of the time.Â But he was also usually the most mature person on the show.Â Compared to him, the other characters sometimes seemed like cardboard cutouts, including Sydney.Â When reviled, Sloane didn’t revile in return.Â When hated, Sloane responded with faithful love.
And so the makers of Alias ended up with Sloane being either their biggest failure or their biggest triumph.Â He’s their biggest failure if they wanted us to hate him all along, if they wanted us to feel about him the way that Sydney and the other characters do.Â I couldn’t: I liked him too much.Â But he’s their greatest triumph if they intended him to be a tragic character because what made the tragedy work was precisely the grandeur of Sloane’s character and the fact that we liked him.
So why am I blogging about this?Â Needless to say, I don’t blog about every show I watch.Â But Alias sparked some reflection in me about the way the story worked and the way I was expected to respond, and I’m curious.Â Was I supposed to respond the way I did?Â Did other people respond to Alias the same way Moriah and I did?Â Or was it just us?
Last Thursday, Moriah, Aletheia, and I left Medford for a vacation, the first vacation I’ve taken in over a year.Â We drove up to Canyonville first, where Moriah had an Avon meeting at the Seven Feathers casino conference room.Â (What a depressing thing a casino is.)Â During her meeting, Aletheia and I explored downtown Canyonville, ate at a Mexican restaurant, and spent some time at a park, whereÂ Theia enjoyed the swings, a slide, and a little helicopter which Theia pretended to fly after patting the seat and insisting that I climb in to be her co-pilot.
When Moriah’s meeting finished, we continued our trip up to Portland, ate supper with Doug and Amy Hayes, and then flew to Spokane, where our friend Pat Greenfield met us and drove us down to Moscow, Idaho, where we spent the next week.
The town was pretty quiet since the school year was over and most of the university and college students had gone home.Â The exception to that general quietness was an incident on the Saturday night after we arrived: a man opened fire on the courthouse and sheriff’s office, which are only a short distance from the house where we were staying.Â We were already in bed or getting ready for bed and we didn’t hear the shots.
We were able to see a lot of friends, which was something we had been looking forward to.Â I especially enjoyedÂ spending some afternoons sipping cortaditos at Bucer’s and reading.Â I’d taken alongÂ some booksÂ that I’d been looking forward toÂ reading, so I spent some afternoons with Gene Wolfe’s The Wizard, C. S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters, Eric Hoffer’s The Ordeal of Change, and Azar Nafisi’s Reading Lolita in Tehran.
But the highlight of our time in Moscow was probably our meal on Wednesday evening at West of Paris, a French restaurant owned by our friend, Francis Foucachon.Â It was probably the best meal we’d ever had in our lives.Â We’ve been talking about it ever since, and I’m sure Moriah will describe it on her blog soon.
We returned home on Friday refreshed and eager to get back to work here.
Something for fathers by Doug Wilson: “Your Temper is a Doctrine of God.”
And, though Paul Buckley has been blogging since September, I only just discovered his blog.Â Paul’s a journalist who used to work for the Dallas Morning News and is now a student at Westminster in Philly.Â I met him at a conference a few years back.Â Â So welcome to the world of blogging, Paul!
Today, I started reading Dan Kimball‘s Emerging Worship.Â Kimball is one of the major players in the emerging church conversation and so, having spotted this book in the library, I thought I’d give it a quick read to see what Kimball thinks worship ought to be like.
After a meandering foreword by David Crowder (why did he even bother writing it?), Kimball starts by talking about what an “emerging worship service gathering” is.Â He makes the point that when many evangelical Christians hear “worship” they think “music.”Â When people say, “The worship at my church is great!” they usually mean “The worship bandÂ rocks!”
(I’ve sometimes said that the difference between evangelical churches and specifically Reformed churches is that the former say, “What did you think of the music?” and the latter say “What did you think of the sermon?” which is not necessarily better.)
Kimball rightly maintains that worship is broader than just music (p. 2).Â Â Furthermore, he’s right to insist that worship is not all about doing something that makes us feel good (pp. 2-3).Â But then he stumbles when he says about a worship service: “It is not about God’s service to us.Â It is purely our offering of service and worship to God â€”Â offering our lives, offering our prayers, offering our praise, offering our confessions, offering our finances, offering our service to others in the church body” (p. 3).
While I grant that worship is what we do and that it’s okay to apply the term “worship” to the whole of what we do in the service (even though the biblical words translated “to worship” generally mean something like “to bow down”), I’d want to maintain that worship isn’t the whole of the service.Â Or, to put it another way, we aren’t the only ones who are doing the serving when we assemble as a church.Â In fact, our service is not the primary service.Â God serves us first and we serve Him (and each other) in response.
It’s not wrong to come to church wanting to receive something.Â All of us come to church needy.Â Specifically, as James Jordan has pointed out, we need the three gifts that God gives in the liturgy: glory, knowledge (or wisdom), and life.Â While it sounds better to say “We don’t worship to get; we worship to give,” it isn’t accurate.Â We have nothing to give until we first get.Â We come needy, God supplies our needs, and then we give in response.
All of which is to say that, while I appreciate Kimball’s call for a more holistic understanding of worship â€”Â one which goes beyond just the music â€”Â I don’t think Kimball goes far enough.Â We need an understanding of the service which goes beyond worship, beyond what we do, to what God does for us.
On another note, Kimball’s call for churches to moveÂ ”away from aÂ preaching-and-singing-a-few-songs worship service model to a multi-sensory approach to worshiping God” (p. 5) suggests to me that much of what he appreciates is a reaction to a rationalistic sort of model (church is a lecture hall with some pre-lecture and post-lecture songs).Â It’s a reaction to the approach which emphasizes only theÂ sense of hearing and (primarily) the posture of sitting.
In short,Â it’s a reaction to the church’s failure to practice a fully-orbed, biblically-based liturgy, a liturgy withÂ various postures (sitting, kneeling, standing) andÂ with lots of congregational involvement (not just in singingÂ but also in the prayers), a liturgy which culminates every week in the Lord’s Supper.Â And so, when he presents questions for church leaders to ask about their services, one of them is this: “Did we take the Lord’s Supper together as a church regularly?” (p. 10).