Some Sunday School Thoughts

(I'm going to start this post like I haven't been MIA for the last few months and jump right in and trust that we are friends enough for you to forgive me. Thanks in advance.)

We are halfway through our two part Sunday School class discussing Lee Strobel's Case for Christ and Case for Creation books. The Case for Christ I'm more familiar with, though I'm not sure when I would have actually gone through it. I have the book he wrote and dug it out to read at the recommendation of a friend, in conjunction with the class. (I'll confess right now that I also accidentally picked up Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet's Good Omens around the same time. Guess which one I finished? Yeah, if you guessed the book that would be least relevant to my Sunday school class, you would be correct.) I've missed the first two classes for Case for Creation so I wasn't really sure what to expect in class. I was blown away by some of the intelligent explanations about creation and how some experts talk about creation ex nihilo and scientific evidence in the same breath without contradiction. I love that. At one point, someone in the class drew attention to the fact that "scientific theories change all the time any way!" in, what seemed to be, an attempt to discredit science and bring focus back on the consistency of the Bible. 

My non-scientific heart cried a little. I was reminded of something I read from C. S. Lewis over lent this season (and something I've heard from Matt Chandler a time or two) and eventually chimed in.

Lewis asks the following question: How can an unchanging system survive the continual increase of knowledge? He posits at one point that Christians have little to fear from the acquisition of new scientific knowledge. If we start with belief in the Bible's consistency and infallibility, we are then measuring science against it, not the other way round. But of course, science isn't necessarily consistent! Like the commenter in class stated, scientific theories can change. But (and here is the part I really love), Lewis says that wherever you see real progress in knowledge (or what I sometimes will call "new knowledge") there is some knowledge that is not superseded. 

New knowledge does not necessarily supersede old knowledge. 

I mean, isn't that just the best gift we as Christian's can be given when we are interacting with the scientific community? You want to tell me that this rock is a million years old? Matt Chandler says, "Awesome. Like, where did you find that?!" No, no wait! It's FIVE million years old! Again, Chandler says, "That is incredible!" 
Does the age of the rock change God's existence or my belief that he created the world? Nope. "But it went from one million to five million! That's a huge difference." Our understanding of the scientific world changes with every new discovery that is made. I mean, people once thought that the world was flat and you could sail off the edge. We are continually learning things about the world around us, things that maybe our ancestors never dreamed we would know. 

How do I not lose my faith when science starts telling me things about the world that the Bible doesn't mention? 

Easy.

My belief isn't in the scientific discovery of the day. My belief is in the One that crafted our universe out of nothing. The One who keeps a storehouse full of snow, waiting until the time is right to release it. Do I get excited when new discoveries are made? You bet I do! Y'all remember those 7 new planets they found earlier this year at only 40 light years away? If Earth is the only habitable planet, why did God bother making anything else in our universe? Was it so we could explore and learn about the created world? Did he do it just to show off? Or was it so we could see that the God who created the stars, the moon, the sun, and all the planets (known and unknown) created Earth uniquely and specifically for us? 

I know people sometimes think that because God is SO BIG he couldn't possibly be concerned about a single individual life in this world. But man, isn't that what he is showing us through nature? Of all the planets he created, he put humans on the only one that is able to sustain life. 

So let the rocks be seven million years old, let galaxies be discovered 400 light years away. Let your scientific theories change over time, becoming more accurate, more specific as knowledge increases. 

God still created the rock. 

'Tis the Season

Even though the world as a whole tends to take a collective breath around Thanksgiving and Christmas, what with days off and such, my life tends to get a little busier than usual. Once I hit Thanksgiving I know finals are just around the corner. My schedule changes at school, so that throws me off; things at the store start getting crazy right after Halloween and continue to be crazy until mid-January. 
Needless to say, by the time Christmas comes around I'm ready to beg, borrow or steal just to get some time off to rest. Oh, but then there is shopping. And cleaning. And wrapping presents. And did you remember to do office gifts? Are you out of coffee? For like a week? Do you remember the last time you did laundry?
I've written about it before and I'm sure I will do it again next year. I feel totally out of spirits and almost like I need to turn my Christian card in, but Christmas is hard for me as an adult. 
 
Growing up, I LOVED Christmas. So much. I would start listening to Christmas music in July. JULY, people. I mean I see it now, that's a little crazy. But I couldn't get enough of Christmas carols and the warm memories that Christmas would bring for me. Twinkle lights and candy canes, sugar cookies and Christmas trees-- these were things I loved. I don't know if it the stress of finals and end of term papers and grades that I suffer vicariously through my students or the whole retail mess (that I promise I am still thankful for) but somewhere in there, I get so downtrodden. Could I please just have a break?!
I had my annual "Christmas is overwhelming me and I know it shouldn't be!" meltdown on Friday (sorry Jen) and after some hugs and love from mom (thanks Mom), I think I started to calm down. 

 Saturday saw another busy day at the store, which is par for the course, especially as it was the last Saturday before Christmas. But since it was Saturday, it also meant that I could cross one more thing off my to-do list: stop at Jo-Ann's for the needles I needed to finish a Christmas present. They had exactly what I needed and I think I found myself skipping back to the break room for the second half of my break. I got a lot of odd looks from my co-workers and one even commented, "Wow. You are really REALLY happy." And then I realized. I was happy. I was excited about SOMETHING. And I liked it. 

So even though I really was half-asleep this morning getting ready for church (I guess that is what happens when you spent 1.5 hours finishing a knitting project and feeling so pleased that you just.can't.fall.asleep...) I was excited to get to church. And even though I didn't drink enough coffee and got there a tad late, I was glad to be there. And even though I had to leave to go to work (to sit in a very QUIET library), I got to sing some Christmas carols with my people. And like the giant nerd that I am, found myself crying. THIS is where my heart longed to be. Not at work or running around getting stressed out, but with my church family, with my actual family. Making time to sit and sing and learn. And maybe that's the key: MAKING time. I kind of expect Christmas spirit and joy to just happen. In the crazy traffic and cranky customers, I just expect joy to be sprinkled on my like fairy dust. 

But that can't be right, can it? In today's sermon, Pastor Tim made a very interesting point. We hear it every year: In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world...and everyone went to their own town to register. We read and think, "Yes, okay. This needed to happen because of prophecy and we know that God keeps his word. Of course this makes sense." But stop for a moment and consider: taking a census takes TIME. It wasn't a whim. Caesar didn't just wake up one day and decide, "Census! Great idea!" God gave him the idea IN ENOUGH TIME for him to think it was his own idea (probably. God is sneaky like that sometimes.), talk to his advisers, and get the word out. And then enough time for word to go out to the entire Roman world. And enough time for everyone to hear it. Enough time, now that people know, to pack and make arrangements to go home. AND, of course, it all has to coincide with Mary's pregnancy so that Jesus will be born in the right place at the right time. This isn't magic, ya'll. This is a carefully planned historical event. If you want to have a good party, let God plan it. 
Anyway. I digress. The thing is, if the first Christmas took planning and lots of preparing, what makes us think that every other Christmas won't require the same amount of planning? 

So with that in mind, I'm going to prayerfully and mindfully prepare for Christmas. Not just by putting up the tree and lighting my Jack Frost candle (plus, I've already done that), but by choosing joy and choosing to make time to focus on the sacrifice that Jesus made by leaving Heaven to come to earth.
And right now, choosing joy looks like making a cup of tea to warm my fingers and my heart. Nothing speaks comfort like a cup of tea! 
I hope you remember to choose joy this week! 

But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause GREAT JOY for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord."

Luke 2:10-11

Fully Human, Fully God...But How??

This quarter, my pastor is teaching a Sunday school class called Veiled in Flesh. It's an intro class about Christology, that is, understanding who the Bible says that Jesus is. We talked for weeks about the Virgin birth, what it is and what it isn't, arguments for and against, the logic of it, and its doctrinal importance.
All in a Sunday school class?
Yes.
 How does that work? Well, my pastor loves teaching (in his "spare time" he teaches at a local seminary) so it's all kind of like cat nip to him. He encourages questions and loves discussing things that aren't on the 15-page hand out. Because of this, sometimes we end up on very interesting scholarly bunny trails. The one that is on my mind still today is this: did Jesus ever get sick?

Through the discussion of the Virgin birth, we had to grapple with the concept of Jesus being fully God and fully man. Of course, that is a loaded thought. People have been discussing and dissecting this concept for years. How does it all work? Can it work? What are the implications?

We started yesterday's class looking at the outcome of The Chalcedonian Confession from 451. In it, they discuss their understanding of what Jesus being both human and divine means for faith and understanding of the scripture. One of the things that really stood out (maybe because it was also the point my pastor was trying to make) was that they didn't define the nature of Jesus as what it was, but rather, what it was not: "One and the same Christ, Son, Lord, only begotten, to be acknowledged in two natures, without confusion, without change, without division, without separation; the distinction of natures being by no means take away by the union, but rather the property of each nature being preserved..."

How else do you really explain something you can't fully understand? Never mind for a moment the actual theological ramifications of this technique, on a political level, this very smart. The way I see it, if you come out and say "Jesus was both divine and human and was like THIS..." you are tiptoeing (if not crossing completely) into heresy. I think if you take time to observe Jesus and his nature as a whole, you might being noting that to be "confusing" and "changing" is against his nature; therefore, to be both God and man he would necessarily have to be so without confusion, change, division, or separation.

With that knowledge swimming around in our brains, we then started to discuss that troublesome question: did Jesus ever get sick? My pastor opened up the floor for perspectives from the class, prefacing the discussion with the comment that there are scholarly arguments for both sides of the question.
One response was that according to scripture, Jesus was hungry and thirsty, so his divinity didn't keep him from suffering those human issues. Why would he also be kept from a sinus infection or cold?
A few brought up that Jesus' body might have been like Adam's was before the fall: perfect. If this is true, and if we view disease and sickness as part of the fall, wouldn't he necessarily be exempted from those effects from sin?
Others brought up his suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross. Those are the sufferings of a human being: broken bones, bloody body, sweat drops like blood. Divine yes, but, as the class title references, with human skin on.

I loved the debate, the back and forth from the different minds represented in the room. You could tell everyone was thinking about the question and the ramifications of the answer, even if they didn't have a seminary degree (which, most of us did not).  I think the bottom line came down to this: if Jesus was human and got sick, he wasn't very divine, was he? Only a weak god gets the sniffles. However, if Jesus was divine and didn't get sick, how can he be the savior who understands our human struggles, hurts, and suffering? He doesn't understand the human condition.

As the arguments, each with merit, continued to be discussed around the room, I realized we weren't actually going to agree on a verdict as a class. Honestly, it felt a little like philosophy class from my college days. "Yes, but is Descartes right in his way of thinking, in his way of understanding what is real?" My philosophy professor would never say!! It drove the whole class nuts, and prompted me to change my minor to philosophy. A minor where there was no right or wrong answer? Sign me up!

I started to wonder why such a simple question couldn't be answered. I think maybe the reason we couldn't agree is because we were approaching the question with our own version of humanity and deity. I think we look at the situation and say, "If I were Jesus, my humanity would look close enough to the worlds to be accepted, but just shy of actually suffering." Or, of course, on the flip side, "If I were Jesus, my divinity would allow me to live a super hero type existence, where the heat, cold, hunger and thirst wouldn't bother me." I'm not saying the question was wrong; I'm thinking that in our human existence, without full understanding of what it means to be both divine and human, we will continue to ascribe our version of humanity and our version of deity on Jesus that pales in comparison to the actual truth.

My thoughts? Did Jesus ever get sick? Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't.
I know he was concerned for us in our fallen state. He prays for us. He struggled with hard decisions and prayed, that if it was possible, for things to be different. He suffered personal loss of family and friends. He suffered spiritual and physical temptation. He suffered spiritual and physical torment.

And really, sickness comes and goes. Even in those first few days, when you feel terrible, you know that it won't last forever. Loss of a loved one, however, kind of sticks with you. Anniversaries and memories hit you, and you realize that however much time passes, the hurt never really goes away. Emotional pain has the tendency to stick with you for a long while and can affect how you process and understand your world. I am comforted in the fact that the pain of loss is something Jesus understood fully.

No, it doesn't clear up the whole, "How can he be divine and human at the SAME TIME?!?" question for me. But it helps me understand a little bit more of his nature and character and I think that is the most important thing.

A Tired Faith & Dusty Offerings

There have been at least two times in my life (in recent history) when I knowingly used my gifts when I didn't want to. Both times, I ended up being surprised and amazed by the grace I was rewarded with.
It shouldn't surprise me any more, but it does.

Recently I was asked to sign a song for a good friend of mine. Of course I said yes, but when I first listened to the song I had more misgivings than this song had repeats. And boy, did it have a lot.
The list was long: it wasn't the style I usually signed, the words were so modern, the repeats, etc. I put off looking at it until it was far too late and I spent a week practically kicking and screaming, complaining to anyone who would listen, but begrudgingly learning this song.

I ended up learning all the signs and by Saturday I felt rather confident that things would go well. I mean, as confident as I could be given the amount of time I had left to study (zero) and number of days until the performance (um, again, zero). I ran through it a couple of times before bed and then decided it would have to be enough. I sent at least five alarms, got ready for bed early (for me, of course) and tried to sleep.

I was jolted awake sometime around 3 AM to the shouts and arguments of my downstairs neighbors. I tried to will myself back to sleep, knowing that if I got up to do anything, I would be unable to even think about sleeping. I couldn't tell you how long the noise went on but when my alarm went off at 6 a.m., I was sure I could afford a few more moments of sleep. However, the 4 other alarms I set didn't go off and I found myself waking up 15 minutes before I needed to leave. Things were just not going my way.

I aggressively ignored some of the speed limit signs on my way to church. I prayed that the cops would either all be asleep or at church already and that the people in front of me weren't going to my church. It wasn't just that I had overslept; I was late heading to my first practice and first performance of the song I really wish I hadn't agreed to sign.

Thankfully, I got to church with enough time to run through the song 1.5 times with the rest of the team. Unfortunately, most of the coffee I had hastily made that morning was still in my travel mug. I gulped furiously. As I gulped, our keyboardist prayed for us before the service started. His prayer quieted me and reminded my heart that this thing we were doing was simply enhancing the vocalist's gift. I needed to hear that.

I'm always nervous when I sign. Always. Even if it is a song I choose and like, I get nervous. But here I was, exhausted, under-caffeinated, wishing I was somewhere else. This was more than just normal nerves. 

I signed twice on Sunday, first service and second service. In between services, I talked with friends. I've written about these friends before, the ones who ask "How are you?" and "Are you safe?" and "Do you need anything?" and expect an honest and real answer. The ones who can see the tears in my eyes before I really know they are there. They could see I was exhausted on all levels and made sure to ask me about it. I started waking up. Not just in the way you do when the coffee kicks in, but in that way you do when your soul has been run down for so long that you think you are alone in the universe and you finally start seeing a way out.

It wasn't until I started signing in the second service that it all really hit me. I was signing about tired faith and a vast feeling of hopelessness and I didn't realize I was signing about me until that moment. I might have been asked to sign the song to help spread the message of God's love and grace to the congregation, but in that moment, the message of the song was for me.

I wasn't on my best form. It was the first song I've signed in ages, probably since Easter. My gift that morning was a halfhearted dusty offering. But in all of that, I left church that morning with a tear in my eye and the echoes of hope in my heart.

Faith of our Fathers

 Faith of our fathers, living still,

In spite of dungeon, fire and sword;

O how our hearts beat high with joy

Whenever we hear that glorious Word!

When I got my new job, I had to switch the church service I attended. For the longest time, I was a solid second service girl. Enough time to sleep in, make it to Sunday school (on a good morning) and then service. As long as the preacher didn't go too long, breakfast was just wearing off by the end of the sermon, making you the right amount of content and hungry. At this point you were happy and content enough to pay attention and talk to other congregation members, but hungry enough to not forget the time. If you had kids under ten, there was no way you would forget that lunch needed to happen soon after the final "Amen."

Faith of our fathers, we will strive

To win all nations unto Thee;

And through the truth that comes from God,

We all shall then be truly free.

I was sure the thing I would miss the most (besides all the sleep) was the music from second service. Second service was for the young, hip kids (and kids at heart) who liked drums and a good bass line. We sang songs that you stood for, clapped hands for, raised hands for and sometimes, even cried over. This was the service that gave you permission to talk to God in a language void of words like "bulwark" and "fortress."

Faith of our fathers, we will love

Both friend and foe in all our strife;

And preach Thee, too, as love knows how

By kindly words and virtuous life.

 So when I found myself crying over the hymn, Faith of our Fathers, it surprised me. Not a bad thing or a wrong thing, just a surprising thing. I started singing this hymn and I got through the first verse just fine. The problem came when I tried to sing the verse.

 Faith of our fathers, holy faith!

We will be true to thee till death.

The words stopped in my throat. In spite of dungeon, fire and sword. The children in the Middle East who were currently experiencing the "sword" part of that verse jarred me out of my easy Sunday morning routine. I started praying.

Lord how is this happening? How do things like this pass your desk? What do these children know about sacrifice? I know you are in control of all things and allow things to happen for reasons I will never understand, but how is this happening? 

The faces of children I knew in my church who had recently professed faith came to mind. I couldn't help it. This is where I lost it. I was standing there in the middle of the church, hymnal hugged to my chest, weeping over the faith of children everywhere. I wept for their families. I wept for the sacrifice. I wept at the loss. I trusted God to turn my tears into prayers and encouragements for the families mourning the loss of their children. I surely could not do it justice.

How do you cope when Faith of our Fathers leads to the beheading of children?
I wanted to be angry at God. I wanted to rail at Him for allowing … what? People to choose faith above life? To test them on it?
This is something I can do every day. I live in a country that allows me to choose my faith and worship freely. I forget that other countries and other Christians around the world do not have that luxury.

If some of this feels disjointed, it is because I don't have answers to these questions. I don't have political statements or solutions.
I just know that my heart is breaking for the children and the families that are literally choosing to be true to Christ until death.

Trust & Obey...but only if I have to...

Twice a year for twelve years, I sang the first and last verse of Trust and Obey. It was my small Christian school's theme song and it signaled the beginning and end of every school year. To this day, I can still sing those two verses with my eyes closed, the words seared into my memory. I am using the Merriam-Webster definition of the word seared here: to burn, scorch, mark, or injure with or as if with sudden application of intense heat.
In case you are still confused, I do not like this song. These aren't glowing terms I am using to describe the song or the memory of singing it with my classmates. While the song and the memory of it represents many years of my life,(and some of those years admittedly were good years) as a whole they aren't joyous years; they are years and years of frustration and a little bitterness.

Even now, seven years after graduating, singing this song in church produces a negative attitude in my soul. (Which says more about my heart than the song, I know.)
Well, I mean, it did. Until the other week. When we sang, not just the first and last verse, but the verses in between. 
See, the first verse talks about joyously following Jesus and how he will only walk with us when we, say it with me, trust and obey:

When we walk with the Lord

in the light of his word,

what a glory he sheds on our way!

While we do his good will, 

he abides with us still,

and with all who will trust and obey.

 

The fourth verse talks about the sweet fellowship we will have with Jesus when we are able to bodily be in the presence of God and the willing obedience we display, without fear:

Then in fellowship sweet

we will sit at his feet,

or we'll walk by his side in the way;

what he says we will do,

where he says we will go,

never fear, only trust and obey.

 

For me in that school, this song felt like a holy battering ram, forcing me to do what the school wanted, in Jesus' name. I was to obey them without question, because Jesus said you were suppose to obey those he placed in authority over you. And if I did all that they asked, followed their many rules without fear or questions, Jesus would love me and let me walk with him! 
Two weeks ago we sang this song at church. At first, I wanted to dig my heels in, stand there, hymn book closed and arms crossed. Fool me once, shame on me. But, for whatever reason, I opened the book and sang along, thinking I knew the whole song by heart. I was surprised when I had to look at verses two and three, because they did not fit with the image of the song I carried with me for many years. 

Not a burden we bear,

not a sorrow we share,

but our toil he doth richly repay;

not a grief or a loss,

not a frown or a cross,

but is blest if we trust and obey.

But we never can prove

the delights of his love

until all on the altar we lay

for the favor he shows,

for the joy he bestows

are for them who will trust and obey.

 I don't know about you, but these two verses change the tone of this song for me. It does not hold to the happy clappy spirit of the first and last verse. There are trials and toils, ah but he is there! (I imagine to 'richly repay' something, you need to know what the issue is.) And the trusting and obeying, it gets rewarded. Even if it doesn't get rewarded right away. We are blessed when we trust and obey through the hard times. (Hard times? If you just sing the first and last verse there are no hard times!) That verse three? What a doozey! It is talking about full submission in every area of our life. To fully know and understand God and what He is about, total submission to Him is required. Do you see the result of submission? Favor and joy. 
And before anyone says it, I realize this isn't Scripture. It isn't something to live and die for. But music...music has that ability to speak to our souls when regular words fall short.

I'm not saying that I now, all of a sudden, love this song. I won't choose it at the next hymn sing. My apologies to the worship leaders at my church.But reading and singing these two verses, I don't know. It changed something in my heart. Trusting and obeying isn't something that will instantly make things go well for me or get me good grades.It won't make my life eternally blissful, but it will contribute to the bliss of my eternal life. And through the hard times, understanding who God is and relying on him is what will make all the difference at the end of the day.