I must apologize for not writing in such a long time. What with the excitement of finals and Thanksgiving and paper-writing and all, I’ve been too enthralled with school work to do much else.
These last few weeks I’ve been focusing my talents on finishing up the semester strong. I’m just about finished with a paper on union attitudes toward immigration, church fathers’ use of Marian doctrines to defend Christian faith, and the Promise Keepers Movement as a Christian response to culture. I’ve still got a lot of writing to do, but I’m more than halfway through with my tasks. When it’s all said and done, I’ll have written about 65 pages worth of work here in the last month of school. I thank God for the chance I’ve got to learn so much.
Jeanne Kirkpatrick, former U.S. ambassador to the UN, passed away yesterday. She was a government professor emeritus from Georgetown, so I feel like I had a special connection to her. Although I never met her, I did collect Kirkpatrick’s mail along with that of other professors at my government department work-study job. Since she didn’t have a mailbox in the department, I always had to re-label and re-route her mail to the American Enterprise Institute, the think-tank where she worked until her death. I grieve with her family and with the Georgetown faculty who have lost a well-loved and talented lady. And, I’m saddened and relieved that I won’t be able to reroute Ambassador Kirkpatrick’s mail to her new address.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Election Prediction
My prediction: Democratic gains will be far lower than most have anticipated. The GOP election machine will have gotten out the vote despite an unhappy electorate. The Dems still have no clear plan for America and, if they do well tonight, it will be in spite of their own platforms and performances.
Also: Jason Steidl, despite his claims of being politically moderate and a progressive evangelical Christian, is still a tool of the Republican party and continues to be a one-issue voter.
Also: Jason Steidl, despite his claims of being politically moderate and a progressive evangelical Christian, is still a tool of the Republican party and continues to be a one-issue voter.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Christianity + Evolution = ?????, Part 2
(Continued from last week) Thankfully, God is not a Darwinist. This may seem like common sense. Of course God is not a Darwinist, or a Creationist for that matter, because God transcends human understanding and philosophy and our limited perspectives. I intend to demonstrate, though, that God is specifically not a proponent of the “survival of the fittest” philosophy when it comes to dealing with His chosen people in the Old and New Testaments. Natural selection has no place in the economy of the Kingdom.
We’ll begin our journey through scripture with Abraham and Sarah, the first patriarch and matriarch of Israel. The couple, well beyond the fit time of child bearing at 100 and 90 years of age, respectively, are blessed by God with a child in Isaac. According to Darwin, God’s singling out of Abraham and Sarah to be the parents of a great nation doesn’t make sense – they’re way too old. Yet in an act of grace, God chooses the weak of the world to be the strong of the Kingdom. The divine story continues with the birth of Ishmael and Isaac, the latter and younger son being the child of promise, covenant, and favor. With Isaac’s own son, Jacob, the covenant line is propagated through the presumably punier twin to Esau, and God’s choice is with the weaker fellow once again. Perhaps the most famous of Jacob’s sons is the second-to-youngest Joseph, who through the work of Providence saves Egypt and his father’s family from famine. Sold into slavery and thrown into prison time and time again, Joseph’s testimony is a reflection of the good God that he serves. He doesn’t survive because he is strong, like Darwin might suggest, but because the God of Israel is strong for him.
We’re only to the patriarchs, and we already have enough examples of God’s anti-natural selectionism to fill volumes of expository teaching. God’s redemption of Israel in the Exodus story continues to confirm His choice of the vulnerable. The oppressed Hebrews are freed from the burden of Egyptian slavery and in a magnificent demonstration of power “Pharaoh’s chariots and his host he(God) cast into the sea.” Moses, the s-s-stuttering prophet of promise, is the incapable man chosen to lead the way. And what more shall I say of the Old Testament witness? In the time of the Judges, God raises up the youngest sibling Gideon from the least tribe Manasseh and uses him to lead a frail force of only 300 men against Midianite hordes. Samson, blinded and weak after his fatal meeting with Delilah, encounters strength one last time to bring the Philistine temple crashing down. Samuel, dedicated to the Lord from his birth, is given to a barren and depressed woman. “He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes, with the princes of his people. He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children.”
In the time of the kings the Almighty continues to make fit for service those who are otherwise socially hopeless. Saul, chosen from the humblest clan Benjamin, becomes Israel’s first monarch. The next surprising candidate for king is David, of whom his father, Jesse, skeptically speaks, “There remains yet the youngest, but behold, he is keeping the sheep.” The point is that “the Lord sees not as man (including Darwin, I suppose) sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” Darwin be darned, it is God who “trains my hands for war, so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.”
God’s persistent encounter with humanity is inaugurated anew in the New Testament with the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. Had Darwin or his philosophical counterparts had their way, Jesus may have been born into a very fit and influential family. Instead, a humble virgin Mary is honored by God to become theotokos, the God-bearer. She proclaims in the Magnificat, “He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate.” The savior’s birth is itself characterized by social weakness and helplessness when Jesus enters the world in a barn stable. In his earthly ministry, our Lord’s teaching is filled not with a survival-of-the-fittest mentality, but a perspective that speaks of blessing and promise for the poor in spirit, the meek, and the hungry. In an ethic that turns Darwin and this world on its head, Christ says, “But many who are first will be last, and the last first.” Jesus’ humiliating death is the must stunning example of this. “And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
The apostle Paul writes in accord with Christ’s example when he admits, “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, whom God made our wisdom and our righteousness and sanctification and redemption. Therefore, as it is written, ‘Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.’”
And so, whatever Darwin or biology teachers or Christian theologians might tell us about survival of the fittest and natural selection in this world, we can trust that the game will be much different in the world to come. It’s not the wise man’s wisdom nor the strong man’s strength nor the rich man’s riches that will be of any use in the age breaking upon us. Instead, our wisdom, strength, and wealth – our divine exaltation (Heb. 4:10) – will come from a right relationship with God in which we recognize our own weakness, acknowledge our fallenness, and truly humble ourselves before the Lord.
We’ll begin our journey through scripture with Abraham and Sarah, the first patriarch and matriarch of Israel. The couple, well beyond the fit time of child bearing at 100 and 90 years of age, respectively, are blessed by God with a child in Isaac. According to Darwin, God’s singling out of Abraham and Sarah to be the parents of a great nation doesn’t make sense – they’re way too old. Yet in an act of grace, God chooses the weak of the world to be the strong of the Kingdom. The divine story continues with the birth of Ishmael and Isaac, the latter and younger son being the child of promise, covenant, and favor. With Isaac’s own son, Jacob, the covenant line is propagated through the presumably punier twin to Esau, and God’s choice is with the weaker fellow once again. Perhaps the most famous of Jacob’s sons is the second-to-youngest Joseph, who through the work of Providence saves Egypt and his father’s family from famine. Sold into slavery and thrown into prison time and time again, Joseph’s testimony is a reflection of the good God that he serves. He doesn’t survive because he is strong, like Darwin might suggest, but because the God of Israel is strong for him.
We’re only to the patriarchs, and we already have enough examples of God’s anti-natural selectionism to fill volumes of expository teaching. God’s redemption of Israel in the Exodus story continues to confirm His choice of the vulnerable. The oppressed Hebrews are freed from the burden of Egyptian slavery and in a magnificent demonstration of power “Pharaoh’s chariots and his host he(God) cast into the sea.” Moses, the s-s-stuttering prophet of promise, is the incapable man chosen to lead the way. And what more shall I say of the Old Testament witness? In the time of the Judges, God raises up the youngest sibling Gideon from the least tribe Manasseh and uses him to lead a frail force of only 300 men against Midianite hordes. Samson, blinded and weak after his fatal meeting with Delilah, encounters strength one last time to bring the Philistine temple crashing down. Samuel, dedicated to the Lord from his birth, is given to a barren and depressed woman. “He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes, with the princes of his people. He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children.”
In the time of the kings the Almighty continues to make fit for service those who are otherwise socially hopeless. Saul, chosen from the humblest clan Benjamin, becomes Israel’s first monarch. The next surprising candidate for king is David, of whom his father, Jesse, skeptically speaks, “There remains yet the youngest, but behold, he is keeping the sheep.” The point is that “the Lord sees not as man (including Darwin, I suppose) sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” Darwin be darned, it is God who “trains my hands for war, so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.”
God’s persistent encounter with humanity is inaugurated anew in the New Testament with the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. Had Darwin or his philosophical counterparts had their way, Jesus may have been born into a very fit and influential family. Instead, a humble virgin Mary is honored by God to become theotokos, the God-bearer. She proclaims in the Magnificat, “He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate.” The savior’s birth is itself characterized by social weakness and helplessness when Jesus enters the world in a barn stable. In his earthly ministry, our Lord’s teaching is filled not with a survival-of-the-fittest mentality, but a perspective that speaks of blessing and promise for the poor in spirit, the meek, and the hungry. In an ethic that turns Darwin and this world on its head, Christ says, “But many who are first will be last, and the last first.” Jesus’ humiliating death is the must stunning example of this. “And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
The apostle Paul writes in accord with Christ’s example when he admits, “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, whom God made our wisdom and our righteousness and sanctification and redemption. Therefore, as it is written, ‘Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.’”
And so, whatever Darwin or biology teachers or Christian theologians might tell us about survival of the fittest and natural selection in this world, we can trust that the game will be much different in the world to come. It’s not the wise man’s wisdom nor the strong man’s strength nor the rich man’s riches that will be of any use in the age breaking upon us. Instead, our wisdom, strength, and wealth – our divine exaltation (Heb. 4:10) – will come from a right relationship with God in which we recognize our own weakness, acknowledge our fallenness, and truly humble ourselves before the Lord.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Evolution + Christianity = ????
Al Mohler, Southern Baptist guru and theologian extraordinaire, believes that evolution and Christianity can’t go together. James Dobson, conservative evangelical radio host and leader in the pro-family movement, supports teaching intelligent design in public classrooms. Vince Miller, Georgetown professor of theology and Catholic genius, says much progress has been made integrating the claims of Christian faith with evolutionary science. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, French Jesuit missionary to China, claimed that the Genesis account of Creation is metaphor and an understanding of the unfolding cosmos in evolutionary terms is necessary and can be, at its heart, Christian.
Why do I mention these varied opinions? Growing up, I was taught to believe in the literal translation of Genesis. God created the world in six days, Adam and Eve were real people, and the age of the Earth is only about 5 or 6 thousand years old. I attended seminars, read books that encouraged me to argue with my high school biology teachers, and came to see evolution as the great devil of modern science that leads people away from God.
With my Georgetown theological training, you might think that I would have abandoned the literalist interpretation of Genesis by now. As my believing professors claim, the work of famous theologians in the past century has un-problematically harmonized the teachings of Christian faith with those of evolution. Still, my skepticism of the scientific method when paired with the overwhelming trust I place in the authority of the Holy Writ has far outweighed any impact my teachers may have had on me when it comes to believing in evolution. I am still a biblical literalist at heart, and I do believe in a young earth and a real fall and a God active in human history.
What worries me most about evolution, I think, are the corollary philosophies that tend to go along with the idea. First, I need to define what is meant when I say the word “evolution.” In 1859, Charles Darwin proposed the first widely-accepted evolutionary theory by claiming that new species come about through natural selection. Put another way, natural selection can be seen as survival of the fittest. Darwin proposed that as the weak members of a species die off and the stronger members survive to reproduce, the species itself will change and become more like the stronger members. Thus, the species becomes more adapted to the environment as the better-suited individuals live to pass on their genes to future generations. In social theory, natural selection has been used as a way to understand poverty and inequality. Social Darwinism might say that the poor are poor because they are less-fit humans and we needn’t worry about them because they will eventually die out and be replaced by the rich anyways. Eugenics, a science that many claim is the logical result of evolutionary theory applied to humans, is “the study of hereditary improvement of the human race by controlled selective breeding.” Eugenics was used by Hitler when he sought to prove the superiority of the Aryan Germans over the less-able races of Jews and Gypsies.
What is Scripture’s view of natural selection? I’m not sure if the Bible speaks specifically to the modern scientific notion, but I am pretty sure that we can find out biblical perspectives on the Darwinian philosophy and worldview especially in regards to spiritual matters. How does evolution, and specifically the idea of survival of the fittest, fit into a biblical and spiritual worldview?
Why do I mention these varied opinions? Growing up, I was taught to believe in the literal translation of Genesis. God created the world in six days, Adam and Eve were real people, and the age of the Earth is only about 5 or 6 thousand years old. I attended seminars, read books that encouraged me to argue with my high school biology teachers, and came to see evolution as the great devil of modern science that leads people away from God.
With my Georgetown theological training, you might think that I would have abandoned the literalist interpretation of Genesis by now. As my believing professors claim, the work of famous theologians in the past century has un-problematically harmonized the teachings of Christian faith with those of evolution. Still, my skepticism of the scientific method when paired with the overwhelming trust I place in the authority of the Holy Writ has far outweighed any impact my teachers may have had on me when it comes to believing in evolution. I am still a biblical literalist at heart, and I do believe in a young earth and a real fall and a God active in human history.
What worries me most about evolution, I think, are the corollary philosophies that tend to go along with the idea. First, I need to define what is meant when I say the word “evolution.” In 1859, Charles Darwin proposed the first widely-accepted evolutionary theory by claiming that new species come about through natural selection. Put another way, natural selection can be seen as survival of the fittest. Darwin proposed that as the weak members of a species die off and the stronger members survive to reproduce, the species itself will change and become more like the stronger members. Thus, the species becomes more adapted to the environment as the better-suited individuals live to pass on their genes to future generations. In social theory, natural selection has been used as a way to understand poverty and inequality. Social Darwinism might say that the poor are poor because they are less-fit humans and we needn’t worry about them because they will eventually die out and be replaced by the rich anyways. Eugenics, a science that many claim is the logical result of evolutionary theory applied to humans, is “the study of hereditary improvement of the human race by controlled selective breeding.” Eugenics was used by Hitler when he sought to prove the superiority of the Aryan Germans over the less-able races of Jews and Gypsies.
What is Scripture’s view of natural selection? I’m not sure if the Bible speaks specifically to the modern scientific notion, but I am pretty sure that we can find out biblical perspectives on the Darwinian philosophy and worldview especially in regards to spiritual matters. How does evolution, and specifically the idea of survival of the fittest, fit into a biblical and spiritual worldview?
Thursday, October 26, 2006
The Great Dame of the Cathedral Choral Society
I’ve had a couple chances as of late to participate in Warrshington high suh-sci-uh-tay. The first opportunity came a week and a half ago when I visited the National Cathedral to hear a concert performed by the Choir of Westminster Cathedral, a world-renowned band of men and boys who sing sacred liturgical tunes. I often enjoy choral music as part my devotional life and also for casual listening, so I jumped at the chance to see the choir perform live. The afternoon performance was on a sunny day, but spending my time inside the great cathedral was well worth the sacrifice. The light streaming in through the magnificent stained glass windows of the national church managed to make the day seem even brighter indoors.
I came to the concert early with the intent of standing in line to buy same-day, student-priced tickets. For $15, I wanted to get a seat in the north transept and hear the choir performing from the left arm of the cross-shaped cathedral. Unfortunately, however, the ticket given to me was for a south transept seat. I asked if another seat might be available on the northern side, and the pleasant lady behind the desk asked me to wait a little while as she received ticket money from other concert-goers. I obliged and stood by patiently. After selling a few more tickets, the vendor offered me mid-knave seating about halfway back in the main part of the sanctuary. I asked again for a north transept seat, but the kind seller thought I was protesting my normally $45 mid-knave seat. I stood by and smiled at her as she offered me a spot in the front of the sanctuary among seats reserved for patrons of the cathedral at $65 a pop. Thus, as a student I was given a prime ticket to sit among the choral society’s elites.
I made my way up front with a glimmer of pride as surprised ushers were forced to allow me through to my prized throne. After having to move back and then forward again because of a mixed up seating arrangement, I met and began to speak with a longtime Episcopal supporter of the National Cathedral. She had grown up in DC, attended St. Alban’s parish next to the cathedral, and sent her children to the private Anglican school there. Now in her late 70s, she sat in the same seat that she had occupied for decades. The seat next to her own, which had once been filled by her deceased husband, now held her eldest and effeminate son.
Our conversation, strangely enough, focused on what most polite discourses do not: politics and religion. We spoke about the state of affairs within the Episcopal Church -- specifically on the ordaining of women and gay bishops. My elderly friend was thrilled with these new and progressive developments. It wasn’t too ago, after all, that she herself had been allowed to become a Eucharistic minister in serving the Lord’s Supper to parishioners. Although a cradle-to-grave Anglican, this great dame of the choral society was thrilled with her church’s liberality in its acceptance of both women and homosexuals. After hearing I was a Baptist, she spoke out and I consented to her rightly-assumed stereotype that I would disagree. Wanting to pick apart my beliefs, she questioned and criticized my understanding of the scripture’s disapproval of homosexuality and female church leaders. I smiled, not wanting to argue with the sophisticated intellectual of Episcopalianism, and passed off her probing with a quiet and gentle response about differing worldviews.
The choir’s performance and my interaction with the elderly dame gave me an afternoon of great satisfaction. I’m not sure if this satisfaction challenged me in faith or gave me a greater understanding of the Kingdom of God, but it did give me a window through which I could see the life of Washington’s Anglican elite.
I came to the concert early with the intent of standing in line to buy same-day, student-priced tickets. For $15, I wanted to get a seat in the north transept and hear the choir performing from the left arm of the cross-shaped cathedral. Unfortunately, however, the ticket given to me was for a south transept seat. I asked if another seat might be available on the northern side, and the pleasant lady behind the desk asked me to wait a little while as she received ticket money from other concert-goers. I obliged and stood by patiently. After selling a few more tickets, the vendor offered me mid-knave seating about halfway back in the main part of the sanctuary. I asked again for a north transept seat, but the kind seller thought I was protesting my normally $45 mid-knave seat. I stood by and smiled at her as she offered me a spot in the front of the sanctuary among seats reserved for patrons of the cathedral at $65 a pop. Thus, as a student I was given a prime ticket to sit among the choral society’s elites.
I made my way up front with a glimmer of pride as surprised ushers were forced to allow me through to my prized throne. After having to move back and then forward again because of a mixed up seating arrangement, I met and began to speak with a longtime Episcopal supporter of the National Cathedral. She had grown up in DC, attended St. Alban’s parish next to the cathedral, and sent her children to the private Anglican school there. Now in her late 70s, she sat in the same seat that she had occupied for decades. The seat next to her own, which had once been filled by her deceased husband, now held her eldest and effeminate son.
Our conversation, strangely enough, focused on what most polite discourses do not: politics and religion. We spoke about the state of affairs within the Episcopal Church -- specifically on the ordaining of women and gay bishops. My elderly friend was thrilled with these new and progressive developments. It wasn’t too ago, after all, that she herself had been allowed to become a Eucharistic minister in serving the Lord’s Supper to parishioners. Although a cradle-to-grave Anglican, this great dame of the choral society was thrilled with her church’s liberality in its acceptance of both women and homosexuals. After hearing I was a Baptist, she spoke out and I consented to her rightly-assumed stereotype that I would disagree. Wanting to pick apart my beliefs, she questioned and criticized my understanding of the scripture’s disapproval of homosexuality and female church leaders. I smiled, not wanting to argue with the sophisticated intellectual of Episcopalianism, and passed off her probing with a quiet and gentle response about differing worldviews.
The choir’s performance and my interaction with the elderly dame gave me an afternoon of great satisfaction. I’m not sure if this satisfaction challenged me in faith or gave me a greater understanding of the Kingdom of God, but it did give me a window through which I could see the life of Washington’s Anglican elite.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Thoughts on the Kingdom
Theologians, for better or worse, ride around on bandwagons. Trends in ways of thinking about God ebb and flow depending on contemporary culture and philosophy. This has been true from the beginning of Christian faith, when the early Church Fathers sought to distinguish themselves from Jews, until today, when modern Christian academics seek to take up a relevant theological task in the post-modern world. From Augustinians to Thomists to Barthians and all the rest, patterns emerge in Christianity and believers tend to view their faith, whether consciously or not, according to these modes of thought.
A pattern I’ve noticed more recently in the teaching of my professors, books I’ve read, and conversations I’ve had with brothers and sisters in Christ is the focus on a “Kingdom” perspective. The imagery is based on a biblical and Christ-proclaimed idea -- an idea that is mentioned several dozen times in Matthew’s gospel alone.
I was thinking about the idea of the Kingdom of God this morning and it struck me as strange that such a concept would be popular in today’s theology, let alone the theology of any time period. A “kingdom” is necessarily associated with a monarchy, which tends to go against everything the Enlightenment, democracy, and equality stand for. Furthermore, kingdoms are associated with imperialism, colonialism, and oppression, which are bad things in any society.
In the Old Testament, the idea of a kingdom is a compromise that God makes with the Israelites. The people rebel against the judges’ authority, and God concedes to give them a monarch who will reign over them with a host of heavy burdens and obligations. “And in that day you will cry out because of your king… but the Lord will not answer you in that day” (1 Sam. 8:18). God goes so far as to say that by establishing an earthly kingship, Israel is rejecting Him as their ruler.
Sadly, the earthly kingdoms of the New Testament do not improve much on the idea of the Old Testament monarchy. By the time Christ arrives, the Hebrew kingdoms have been defeated and Roman imperial rule is the norm. The people must pay taxes to Caesar, support Roman troops, and give appropriate honor to the emperor where due. Roman imperialism at the local level is characterized by the megalomania of King Herod in the slaughter of the innocents at the birth of Christ and the injustice typified by Pontius Pilate in the governor’s condemnation of our savior at his death.
Since biblical times, kingdoms haven’t gained a better reputation. The Kingdom of Jerusalem – a government built with the blood of Muslims and Jews during the time of the Crusades – is just one example that comes to mind. Slavery, colonialism, and oppression are aspects of more recent Western kingdoms stemming from countries like Britain, France, and the Netherlands. The devastating effects of these former empires are still being felt in nations of poverty and authoritarianism around the world. In every earthly experience, it seems that “kingdom” has a dreadful connotation.
I wonder, though, if this isn’t exactly the point of Christ’s proclamation of the new Kingdom of God. In theology, there are generally two methods of trying to describe God. The first method is positive in nature – we say that God is omnipotent, God is omniscient, and God is good, for example. The second method, though, is negative – that is, we say what God is not. God is not ignorant, God is not evil, and God is not a created being. In a similar way, our understanding of earthly kingdoms and the evil they often embody might be for us a way of knowing that God’s Kingdom will be much different. While we see injustice taking place in this world, we can be assured that there will no so such trouble when God’s reign is fully realized. While we know that man-led authorities are corrupt and dark, we can trust that the God-led Kingdom is pure and light. Thus, our experiences of kingdom in a fallen humanity point us to the ideal promise of Kingdom in the presence of God.
As believers who live in a time when the idea of monarchy and imperial authority is vastly unpopular, we can have faith that the idea of God’s own Kingdom reign is much different from our human perceptions of government institutions. What a privilege we have to know and to hope that the kingdom of the world will eventually and fully become the Kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and that he shall reign forever and ever. Thus, we can gladly claim a divine ruler over our lives and unashamedly pray “thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
A pattern I’ve noticed more recently in the teaching of my professors, books I’ve read, and conversations I’ve had with brothers and sisters in Christ is the focus on a “Kingdom” perspective. The imagery is based on a biblical and Christ-proclaimed idea -- an idea that is mentioned several dozen times in Matthew’s gospel alone.
I was thinking about the idea of the Kingdom of God this morning and it struck me as strange that such a concept would be popular in today’s theology, let alone the theology of any time period. A “kingdom” is necessarily associated with a monarchy, which tends to go against everything the Enlightenment, democracy, and equality stand for. Furthermore, kingdoms are associated with imperialism, colonialism, and oppression, which are bad things in any society.
In the Old Testament, the idea of a kingdom is a compromise that God makes with the Israelites. The people rebel against the judges’ authority, and God concedes to give them a monarch who will reign over them with a host of heavy burdens and obligations. “And in that day you will cry out because of your king… but the Lord will not answer you in that day” (1 Sam. 8:18). God goes so far as to say that by establishing an earthly kingship, Israel is rejecting Him as their ruler.
Sadly, the earthly kingdoms of the New Testament do not improve much on the idea of the Old Testament monarchy. By the time Christ arrives, the Hebrew kingdoms have been defeated and Roman imperial rule is the norm. The people must pay taxes to Caesar, support Roman troops, and give appropriate honor to the emperor where due. Roman imperialism at the local level is characterized by the megalomania of King Herod in the slaughter of the innocents at the birth of Christ and the injustice typified by Pontius Pilate in the governor’s condemnation of our savior at his death.
Since biblical times, kingdoms haven’t gained a better reputation. The Kingdom of Jerusalem – a government built with the blood of Muslims and Jews during the time of the Crusades – is just one example that comes to mind. Slavery, colonialism, and oppression are aspects of more recent Western kingdoms stemming from countries like Britain, France, and the Netherlands. The devastating effects of these former empires are still being felt in nations of poverty and authoritarianism around the world. In every earthly experience, it seems that “kingdom” has a dreadful connotation.
I wonder, though, if this isn’t exactly the point of Christ’s proclamation of the new Kingdom of God. In theology, there are generally two methods of trying to describe God. The first method is positive in nature – we say that God is omnipotent, God is omniscient, and God is good, for example. The second method, though, is negative – that is, we say what God is not. God is not ignorant, God is not evil, and God is not a created being. In a similar way, our understanding of earthly kingdoms and the evil they often embody might be for us a way of knowing that God’s Kingdom will be much different. While we see injustice taking place in this world, we can be assured that there will no so such trouble when God’s reign is fully realized. While we know that man-led authorities are corrupt and dark, we can trust that the God-led Kingdom is pure and light. Thus, our experiences of kingdom in a fallen humanity point us to the ideal promise of Kingdom in the presence of God.
As believers who live in a time when the idea of monarchy and imperial authority is vastly unpopular, we can have faith that the idea of God’s own Kingdom reign is much different from our human perceptions of government institutions. What a privilege we have to know and to hope that the kingdom of the world will eventually and fully become the Kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and that he shall reign forever and ever. Thus, we can gladly claim a divine ruler over our lives and unashamedly pray “thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
Friday, October 20, 2006
An Essay for an Honors Society Application, #1
Please choose a person or an event within the Georgetown community that has had a significant impact on you. Specifically, how has this person or event influenced your views on and involvement in community service.
Much of my time at Georgetown is spent with Matt, my roommate and friend. He is the first person I see in the morning, the last one I see at night, and the fellow who knows me best. Our friendship means much to me. When it seems like the world is closing in on me, he offers a view of hope. When I am excited about new opportunities, he stands beside me and shares a smile. When I have questions about life, he gives me a patient answer. Of all my relationships at Georgetown, my connection with Matt has proven to be the strongest.
Matt’s example of service has spoken volumes to me about reaching out to others. Like me, Matt became involved in HOPE freshman year. We participated in Friday Food, a project allowing Hoyas to hand out sandwiches to the homeless. I had the chance to volunteer alongside Matt, and we both found the experience rewarding. For the first time, we saw the homeless as real people with real needs.
Sophomore year, Matt tired of his service in HOPE. While he saw the benefits of homeless outreach, he also found the weekly event too-quickly fleeting and found a desire to invest himself even more deeply in the lives of the homeless. Borrowing stoves from Outdoor Ed and picking up donated food from a grocery store, Matt took to the streets and cooked warm meals for those who lived there. He invited the homeless to join him in meal preparation on the corner of Wisconsin and M, publicly identifying with those he served. Matt turned this activity into a new weekly event – an event I was privileged to take part in several times.
This year, Matt is going further still to find out homeless needs. I have woken up several mornings to find Matt’s bed empty, only to learn later that he spent the night under the stars and on the streets. He is constantly finding radical ways to serve others and, along the way, is challenging me to do the same.
Much of my time at Georgetown is spent with Matt, my roommate and friend. He is the first person I see in the morning, the last one I see at night, and the fellow who knows me best. Our friendship means much to me. When it seems like the world is closing in on me, he offers a view of hope. When I am excited about new opportunities, he stands beside me and shares a smile. When I have questions about life, he gives me a patient answer. Of all my relationships at Georgetown, my connection with Matt has proven to be the strongest.
Matt’s example of service has spoken volumes to me about reaching out to others. Like me, Matt became involved in HOPE freshman year. We participated in Friday Food, a project allowing Hoyas to hand out sandwiches to the homeless. I had the chance to volunteer alongside Matt, and we both found the experience rewarding. For the first time, we saw the homeless as real people with real needs.
Sophomore year, Matt tired of his service in HOPE. While he saw the benefits of homeless outreach, he also found the weekly event too-quickly fleeting and found a desire to invest himself even more deeply in the lives of the homeless. Borrowing stoves from Outdoor Ed and picking up donated food from a grocery store, Matt took to the streets and cooked warm meals for those who lived there. He invited the homeless to join him in meal preparation on the corner of Wisconsin and M, publicly identifying with those he served. Matt turned this activity into a new weekly event – an event I was privileged to take part in several times.
This year, Matt is going further still to find out homeless needs. I have woken up several mornings to find Matt’s bed empty, only to learn later that he spent the night under the stars and on the streets. He is constantly finding radical ways to serve others and, along the way, is challenging me to do the same.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
VA Weekend
Last weekend I had the chance to visit Lynchburg, Virginia with my aunts, Uncle Mike, a couple cousins, and Joey. Aunt Sandy and Aunt Doris, along with Joey and Kata, picked me up Friday afternoon for the trip to south-western Virginia. Our purpose was to visit another cousin, Eric, at Liberty University and then go to the Shenandoah National Park for a church service on the Skyline Drive.
Friday and Saturday the weather was dreary. The fall lived up to its name, with plenty of rain falling from the sky both days. Despite the weather, it was sweet to be with family. Saturday morning we visited Liberty University, where my cousin showed us his dorm (only the guys were allowed inside- the aunts had to peek in from the window). We got a grand tour of the Rev. Falwell’s Christian community in the mountains, along with a look at a museum dedicated to his life, ministry, and politics in one of the campus buildings. Saturday night found us celebrating Joey’s birthday with some tasty Mexican food and a swim in the pool followed by a stint in the sauna and some birthday cake.
Sunday, we left very early for the Skyline Drive. The morning service is organized by the Richmond and Upper Marlboro Apostolic Christian Churches and gives opportunity for ACers from around the U.S. to come and see the spectacular beauty of the Virginia hills. Although I’ve been in DC for three years, this was my first Skyline Drive experience. My expectations were high for the event, though, because my dad had often described his own visits to the mountains decades ago. I can’t say that I was disappointed at all. The leaves up in the hills were brilliant hues of red, orange, and yellow. The vastness of the mountains made me feel very small – certainly a good thing for a fellow with such a big head as I. The drive reminded me of my travels in the Middle East just a few months ago, where the mountains of Judea and Jordan broke up the landscape. It was a privilege to see the same type of rocky beauty in my own American backyard.
The weekend was such a nice time. I lived like a king, being taken out to eat three times a day and being housed at the nicest hotel in Lynchburg. The long hours spent with my family was the most rewarding aspect of the weekend, though, and the time with everyone will do much to tie me over until I go home for Thanksgiving.
In other news, the largest crush of my high school and college years got engaged recently -- to another fellow. I’m happy for the couple, but it’s bittersweet for me. I know that there are other fish in the ocean, but I feel like the ocean is getting smaller day by day. Looking over some emails I wrote to this recently-engaged friend when there was still a prospect for romance between us, I’m forced to eat – with a smile – the words I spoke. “You're a special lady, and deserve the best, no matter where I am at or what our relationship is.” Now I’ve got to mean it.
Friday and Saturday the weather was dreary. The fall lived up to its name, with plenty of rain falling from the sky both days. Despite the weather, it was sweet to be with family. Saturday morning we visited Liberty University, where my cousin showed us his dorm (only the guys were allowed inside- the aunts had to peek in from the window). We got a grand tour of the Rev. Falwell’s Christian community in the mountains, along with a look at a museum dedicated to his life, ministry, and politics in one of the campus buildings. Saturday night found us celebrating Joey’s birthday with some tasty Mexican food and a swim in the pool followed by a stint in the sauna and some birthday cake.
Sunday, we left very early for the Skyline Drive. The morning service is organized by the Richmond and Upper Marlboro Apostolic Christian Churches and gives opportunity for ACers from around the U.S. to come and see the spectacular beauty of the Virginia hills. Although I’ve been in DC for three years, this was my first Skyline Drive experience. My expectations were high for the event, though, because my dad had often described his own visits to the mountains decades ago. I can’t say that I was disappointed at all. The leaves up in the hills were brilliant hues of red, orange, and yellow. The vastness of the mountains made me feel very small – certainly a good thing for a fellow with such a big head as I. The drive reminded me of my travels in the Middle East just a few months ago, where the mountains of Judea and Jordan broke up the landscape. It was a privilege to see the same type of rocky beauty in my own American backyard.
The weekend was such a nice time. I lived like a king, being taken out to eat three times a day and being housed at the nicest hotel in Lynchburg. The long hours spent with my family was the most rewarding aspect of the weekend, though, and the time with everyone will do much to tie me over until I go home for Thanksgiving.
In other news, the largest crush of my high school and college years got engaged recently -- to another fellow. I’m happy for the couple, but it’s bittersweet for me. I know that there are other fish in the ocean, but I feel like the ocean is getting smaller day by day. Looking over some emails I wrote to this recently-engaged friend when there was still a prospect for romance between us, I’m forced to eat – with a smile – the words I spoke. “You're a special lady, and deserve the best, no matter where I am at or what our relationship is.” Now I’ve got to mean it.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Quick Thoughts
I realized yesterday how lucky I am to be here at Georgetown. Before one of my classes began, two fellow students were discussing Russian politics. They compared a falling-out between current Russian President Vladimir Putin and a former political ally to the falling-out between Stalin and Trotsky. They thought the comparison was hilarious, and I had to smile at the fact that we all understood the joke.
Later in the class, we were asked who had visited the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, Turkey. Several classmates had, and several others were later talking about their experiences in the Holy Land. This university has an amazing group of students and faculty with immense international experience, and I'm really priveleged to be here.
I do Hebrew homework at my work-study job in the government department. So many people come up to me and talk in Hebrew, and so many others share with me their own experiences in Israel. As my Israeli professor, Yossi Shain, would say, "Golly Gee."
A close friend of mine is "coming out" to his parents. No, he's not gay, but he has heard God's call to full-time ministry. Since he's Catholic, this means he'll become an ordained priest and live a celibate life. The Church will be his spiritual family, and he'll devote his life in service to others and the Gospel. Him and his parents could both use our prayers now- they're in for quite a surprise, and my roomate isn't expecting the experience to be pleasant.
Later in the class, we were asked who had visited the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, Turkey. Several classmates had, and several others were later talking about their experiences in the Holy Land. This university has an amazing group of students and faculty with immense international experience, and I'm really priveleged to be here.
I do Hebrew homework at my work-study job in the government department. So many people come up to me and talk in Hebrew, and so many others share with me their own experiences in Israel. As my Israeli professor, Yossi Shain, would say, "Golly Gee."
A close friend of mine is "coming out" to his parents. No, he's not gay, but he has heard God's call to full-time ministry. Since he's Catholic, this means he'll become an ordained priest and live a celibate life. The Church will be his spiritual family, and he'll devote his life in service to others and the Gospel. Him and his parents could both use our prayers now- they're in for quite a surprise, and my roomate isn't expecting the experience to be pleasant.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
An Evangelical's Confessions
I used to more Protestant, more Evangelical, even more Baptist. My second year at Georgetown I took a class on the Protestant Reformation, an eye-opening and thought-anchoring study on the background of my faith. The coursework came after a freshman year of spiritual dialogue and friendships with everyone from papist Catholics to un-orthodox Protestants. In my sophomoric studies, though, I saw more than ever the differences between the denominations and the theological particularities that set each apart from the others. I was proud and unique to be a conservative believer with Anabaptist roots at a liberal Catholic (and Jesuit, at that!) university.
Today, I’m in a different place. I’m not sure if this place is better or worse than where I was at a couple years ago, but it is very different. This fact came to light recently when I was chatting with my roommate, a stalwart Catholic who is willing to partner in the Gospel and dialogue on matters of faith with Protestants like me. He shared how, in his own witness and outreach, it’s important for him to bring non-believers to a point where they accept Christ as Savior and declare Jesus as Lord of their lives. After that, he said, their relationship with God can be primarily grown through the work of the Holy Spirit and their spiritual lives can be crafted by a loving Creator. Of far-less and secondary importance, he said, is his desire that they get plugged into a specifically Catholic church. I agreed with him in my desire to bring people to Christ and not to a specific denomination or particular creed. All Matt and I want to know and to make known is “Christ, and him crucified.”
This view is far different from the perspective of Mike, an acquaintance of mine and friend of Matt’s, whose passion for the Catholic Church may be just as strong as his passion for the Gospel. He sees Roman Catholicism as the earthly institution where God works to suit-up Christian believers for service in the Kingdom of Heaven. Mike’s commitment to the Roman Church is evidenced by his desire to reach out even to Protestants in an effort to bring them into the fold that he loves so much. He sees the Roman Catholic rite as having the most complete expression of Christian faith and the greatest amount of revealed truth to be found anywhere. Since he believes in the Catholic Church so fervently, it is his joy and privilege to share his Catholic faith with everyone he knows. He is unafraid of difficult doctrines, never shies away from condemning wrong teaching, and spends much of his time delving into the theological treasures of his tradition.
I don’t share this same passion for my conservative Evangelical brand of Christian faith. While I invite people to come to church with me, I never say that it is the Church or holds the unique set of keys to unlock God’s fullest revelation. I don’t consider Luther’s Reformation to be a hugely important development in the expression of Christian faith, nor do I consider Froehlich’s split from the Swiss national church essential for a complete understanding of Christ. I don’t idolize Dobson, Falwell, or even Piper, and I look down on people who give undue weight to the words of Wesley or Winthrop. I think I may be deficient in my devotion to American evangelicalism. I’m a bad Baptist. I was actually excited when I got see the welcoming of a baby into Christian community at a Catholic Church. I’m a sorry situation when it comes to believing the symbolic nature of the Lord’s Supper. I believe the ordinance is so much more than a symbol, and I’ve been looking for a better understanding of Christ's real presence in the Eucharist. I find value in the diverse expression of Christianity across denominations and traditions, with Christ the unmovable center of the Faith. This, I trust, is the true Church, “and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”
Still, I question sometimes what I believe and why I believe it. Along with a sense of ecumenicalism comes a deep questioning of what is essential for Christian faith. I hold to the authority of scripture, the creeds, and the testimony of what Christ has done in my own life, among other things, but I am very reluctant to commit myself to the specific doctrines of denominations. I feel at times like I am “tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine,” and wish I had Mike’s doctrinal stability. Perhaps, once I graduate and get a little more settled in life, this questioning will come to an end. Until then, though, I’m doing what I can to incorporate the best of Christian diversity and apply it to the work of faith that God is building in my life.
Today, I’m in a different place. I’m not sure if this place is better or worse than where I was at a couple years ago, but it is very different. This fact came to light recently when I was chatting with my roommate, a stalwart Catholic who is willing to partner in the Gospel and dialogue on matters of faith with Protestants like me. He shared how, in his own witness and outreach, it’s important for him to bring non-believers to a point where they accept Christ as Savior and declare Jesus as Lord of their lives. After that, he said, their relationship with God can be primarily grown through the work of the Holy Spirit and their spiritual lives can be crafted by a loving Creator. Of far-less and secondary importance, he said, is his desire that they get plugged into a specifically Catholic church. I agreed with him in my desire to bring people to Christ and not to a specific denomination or particular creed. All Matt and I want to know and to make known is “Christ, and him crucified.”
This view is far different from the perspective of Mike, an acquaintance of mine and friend of Matt’s, whose passion for the Catholic Church may be just as strong as his passion for the Gospel. He sees Roman Catholicism as the earthly institution where God works to suit-up Christian believers for service in the Kingdom of Heaven. Mike’s commitment to the Roman Church is evidenced by his desire to reach out even to Protestants in an effort to bring them into the fold that he loves so much. He sees the Roman Catholic rite as having the most complete expression of Christian faith and the greatest amount of revealed truth to be found anywhere. Since he believes in the Catholic Church so fervently, it is his joy and privilege to share his Catholic faith with everyone he knows. He is unafraid of difficult doctrines, never shies away from condemning wrong teaching, and spends much of his time delving into the theological treasures of his tradition.
I don’t share this same passion for my conservative Evangelical brand of Christian faith. While I invite people to come to church with me, I never say that it is the Church or holds the unique set of keys to unlock God’s fullest revelation. I don’t consider Luther’s Reformation to be a hugely important development in the expression of Christian faith, nor do I consider Froehlich’s split from the Swiss national church essential for a complete understanding of Christ. I don’t idolize Dobson, Falwell, or even Piper, and I look down on people who give undue weight to the words of Wesley or Winthrop. I think I may be deficient in my devotion to American evangelicalism. I’m a bad Baptist. I was actually excited when I got see the welcoming of a baby into Christian community at a Catholic Church. I’m a sorry situation when it comes to believing the symbolic nature of the Lord’s Supper. I believe the ordinance is so much more than a symbol, and I’ve been looking for a better understanding of Christ's real presence in the Eucharist. I find value in the diverse expression of Christianity across denominations and traditions, with Christ the unmovable center of the Faith. This, I trust, is the true Church, “and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”
Still, I question sometimes what I believe and why I believe it. Along with a sense of ecumenicalism comes a deep questioning of what is essential for Christian faith. I hold to the authority of scripture, the creeds, and the testimony of what Christ has done in my own life, among other things, but I am very reluctant to commit myself to the specific doctrines of denominations. I feel at times like I am “tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine,” and wish I had Mike’s doctrinal stability. Perhaps, once I graduate and get a little more settled in life, this questioning will come to an end. Until then, though, I’m doing what I can to incorporate the best of Christian diversity and apply it to the work of faith that God is building in my life.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
DC Life
The weather in DC has been really nice lately. Mid 70’s, sunshine, and a gentle breeze constantly call me away from work and classes. It’s always around this time of year when I wish I was back home doing yard work again, enjoying the simple pleasures of Ohio and being outdoors. The rusty and rosy foliage of Ohio’s trees far outperforms the shades of yellow and brown we see here in the Mid-Atlantic. I miss the apple-picking, corn fields, and morning chill of Ohio’s autumn.
The townhouse I live in is surrounded by other houses and trees which block the morning sun, and I’m pretty sure this is having the effect of making me sleepy in the mornings when I ought to be wide awake. I can’t wait until the leaves fall and the sunshine peeks through to greet me in the morning. I’m certain that a quiet cup of coffee and a seat beneath the window in a sun-soaked chair is God’s gift for mornings.
This weekend I’m looking forward very much to getting off campus. There’s an InterVarsity retreat for fellas, and we’re planning on going up the Potomac River for some male-bonding and camping. The annual retreat is always a treat, and I’m looking forward to bonfires and sports and sharing and all the sorts of things that go along with getting off campus with other guys for a while.
The townhouse I live in is surrounded by other houses and trees which block the morning sun, and I’m pretty sure this is having the effect of making me sleepy in the mornings when I ought to be wide awake. I can’t wait until the leaves fall and the sunshine peeks through to greet me in the morning. I’m certain that a quiet cup of coffee and a seat beneath the window in a sun-soaked chair is God’s gift for mornings.
This weekend I’m looking forward very much to getting off campus. There’s an InterVarsity retreat for fellas, and we’re planning on going up the Potomac River for some male-bonding and camping. The annual retreat is always a treat, and I’m looking forward to bonfires and sports and sharing and all the sorts of things that go along with getting off campus with other guys for a while.
Friday, September 22, 2006
A Superman to Me
I used to be a wrestler. In an unevenly matched two-on-one competition, my brother and I would roll around with my dad, giggling wildly as our hero easily overpowered us. He was strong—a superman when we were little. If our dad could pin one of us while tickling the other at the same time, certainly he could stop trains and save cities and fight evil. My dad was the strongest and most noble fellow in the world.
As a teenager, my earlier views of superman faded. Suddenly my dad became very human and just another man among others. At the time, I did my best to tip over all the sacred cows of hero-worship in my life. To an insecure, not-so-cool junior higher, my dad’s bib-overalls and sometimes folksy appearance made him become the biggest dork in the world. His coffee(and perhaps Spirit)-inspired theological rantings on the way to church Sunday mornings sounded like background static to my self-perceived finely-tuned spiritual ears. In an adolescent quest to “find myself,” I also found ways to distinguish myself from him. Dad was in a union, I became a capitalist. He was a rough-and-tumble outdoorsman, I began practicing the piano. He liked to wrestle, I joined drama club.
The past few years, as I’ve finally begun to figure out the kind of guy that God wants me to be, I’ve realized more and more how much I take after my dad and still look up to him. It began with small things like drinking coffee with a little bit of milk, just like him. Then I noticed similarities to my dad in some of my attitudes and perspectives on life. As a student at Georgetown, I find his suspicions of intellectualism present in my own mistrust of the academy. As a young guy looking for a career, the hard-working but sensible middle-class life that my dad leads is becoming more and more appealing to me. Today, more often than not, I look up to my dad as the example of a godly father and hard-working provider that I hope to be for my own family some day. I reckon that he has once again become the superman whom I admired when I was little.
Still, he’s a human superman. When you live with someone – especially family members – it doesn’t take long to figure out that they have imperfections. I’ve found this to be the case with my dad. The situation becomes much more personal, though, when I discover these same shortcomings in my own life. It seems that, along with the good I emulate in my dad, there comes some of the bad too. It’s interesting how Scripture so clearly anticipates and describes this truth. Jeremiah 31:29, a passage my dad shared with the family one Sunday morning, says, “The fathers have eaten a sour grape, and the children's teeth are set on edge.” Sin's impact has the effect of being passed on and continuing through the generations. Exodus 34:7 describes how God’s justice is carried out when “he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation."
Despite these seemingly unbendable rules, the message of the Gospel offers hope for breaking the patterns of generational sin and guilt. When a fellow asks Christ in Matthew 12:48, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?,” the Savior replies, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” Knowing Christ and participating in the unfolding will of God brings us into a new reality. Our new family becomes spiritual, our new identity from a second birth (Jn. 3:3). Relations are no longer by blood, but by water through a participation in baptism and by a common profession of faith (Eph. 4:4-6). All former distinctions – social, cultural, familial – are reconstructed in the Kingdom of Heaven, where “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female, for (we) are one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28). Christ breaks into our lives, giving us radically new identities in him and shattering the patterns and expectations of our old selves. We become fresh again as new people in Christ when we allow our Savior to re-form us in himself. This gives us a bright hope and opportunity for freedom from the sins of our parents and the patterns of imperfections that have been passed on since Adam.
Both my dad and I have become new men in Christ. Our Savior has changed our lives, and we’ve got new identities in the Messiah. Our relationship is still one of blood—that is, physically I am his son, but it is also one of water—that is, spiritually he is a mentor to me and an example of Christ’s redemptive work. Like me, my dad is not perfect. Still, though, I see that God is in the process of transforming him into the spiritual superman that I’d like to become.
As a teenager, my earlier views of superman faded. Suddenly my dad became very human and just another man among others. At the time, I did my best to tip over all the sacred cows of hero-worship in my life. To an insecure, not-so-cool junior higher, my dad’s bib-overalls and sometimes folksy appearance made him become the biggest dork in the world. His coffee(and perhaps Spirit)-inspired theological rantings on the way to church Sunday mornings sounded like background static to my self-perceived finely-tuned spiritual ears. In an adolescent quest to “find myself,” I also found ways to distinguish myself from him. Dad was in a union, I became a capitalist. He was a rough-and-tumble outdoorsman, I began practicing the piano. He liked to wrestle, I joined drama club.
The past few years, as I’ve finally begun to figure out the kind of guy that God wants me to be, I’ve realized more and more how much I take after my dad and still look up to him. It began with small things like drinking coffee with a little bit of milk, just like him. Then I noticed similarities to my dad in some of my attitudes and perspectives on life. As a student at Georgetown, I find his suspicions of intellectualism present in my own mistrust of the academy. As a young guy looking for a career, the hard-working but sensible middle-class life that my dad leads is becoming more and more appealing to me. Today, more often than not, I look up to my dad as the example of a godly father and hard-working provider that I hope to be for my own family some day. I reckon that he has once again become the superman whom I admired when I was little.
Still, he’s a human superman. When you live with someone – especially family members – it doesn’t take long to figure out that they have imperfections. I’ve found this to be the case with my dad. The situation becomes much more personal, though, when I discover these same shortcomings in my own life. It seems that, along with the good I emulate in my dad, there comes some of the bad too. It’s interesting how Scripture so clearly anticipates and describes this truth. Jeremiah 31:29, a passage my dad shared with the family one Sunday morning, says, “The fathers have eaten a sour grape, and the children's teeth are set on edge.” Sin's impact has the effect of being passed on and continuing through the generations. Exodus 34:7 describes how God’s justice is carried out when “he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation."
Despite these seemingly unbendable rules, the message of the Gospel offers hope for breaking the patterns of generational sin and guilt. When a fellow asks Christ in Matthew 12:48, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?,” the Savior replies, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” Knowing Christ and participating in the unfolding will of God brings us into a new reality. Our new family becomes spiritual, our new identity from a second birth (Jn. 3:3). Relations are no longer by blood, but by water through a participation in baptism and by a common profession of faith (Eph. 4:4-6). All former distinctions – social, cultural, familial – are reconstructed in the Kingdom of Heaven, where “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female, for (we) are one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28). Christ breaks into our lives, giving us radically new identities in him and shattering the patterns and expectations of our old selves. We become fresh again as new people in Christ when we allow our Savior to re-form us in himself. This gives us a bright hope and opportunity for freedom from the sins of our parents and the patterns of imperfections that have been passed on since Adam.
Both my dad and I have become new men in Christ. Our Savior has changed our lives, and we’ve got new identities in the Messiah. Our relationship is still one of blood—that is, physically I am his son, but it is also one of water—that is, spiritually he is a mentor to me and an example of Christ’s redemptive work. Like me, my dad is not perfect. Still, though, I see that God is in the process of transforming him into the spiritual superman that I’d like to become.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Campus Lemons to Gospel Lemonade
One of the largest deposits of my time and talents here at Georgetown has been InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, an inter-denominational group of believers seeking to make Christ known on campus. I first got involved in a small-group Bible study my freshman year, and since then the community has been the bedrock of my Georgetown experience. InterVarsity has been a place where God’s given me the grace to be vulnerable and open myself up, allowing me to share with others the successes and failures of my Christian walk. I've been served and am able to serve others through this fellowship while God has continued to grow me up in faith. This year, for example, I’ve been learning much as the leader of a men’s small-group Bible study.
It came as quite a surprise, then, when I returned from summer vacation to learn that Georgetown had disaffiliated itself with InterVarsity and all other Christian ministries from outside the university. In a letter to the InterVarsity staff, the Office of Campus Ministry said that our community was no longer welcome to have any presence at Georgetown. We could not utilize university rooms, poster or flyer, or have any other representation on campus. Suddenly my entire fellowship was made illegal and forced underground.
After learning of the university’s decision, the IV vision team went ahead with a previously-planned leadership retreat. With everyone back from summer vacation, the retreat had originally been planned to set the vision for our fellowship this year -- growing as a witnessing community for Christ. Instead, we launched into crises mode and began to deal with the fact that Georgetown IV was no longer. At first, the tone of our retreat was one of surprise, shock, and anger. We could not imagine how the people in Campus Ministry were able to eject us from campus in good conscience. The number of participants in our ministries far exceeded their own, and we had seen God powerfully move in IV time and time again. Perhaps it was jealousy, we suspected, or different theological views that had caused the rift. IV had previously been under the authority of Campus Ministry, and the relationship was often very rocky. Campus Ministry was suspicious of IV, warning us against proselytizing and burdening us with draconian measures to limit our activity on campus. Whatever Campus Ministry’s motives, we were certain that they were wrong.
Somewhere in the course of the retreat, though, God changed our hearts. Instead of being cynical about the decision, we became thankful. We came to see the decision as more of an opportunity to witness to the Georgetown community than we had ever been given before. We remembered how, last spring, members of our community fervently prayed for change in the fellowship. We had asked God to shake us up and then settle us more on Himself, and we realized that Campus Ministry’s decision was an unexpected way that He was answering our prayer. We also prayed for Campus Ministry itself, realizing that its Catholic and Protestant leaders love Jesus just like we do. By the grace of God we saw that we were on the same side as Campus Ministry, all of us doing our best to make the Gospel known. The different groups have different methods, for sure, but we serve the same Christ.
After returning from the leadership retreat, there was a firestorm of media. Everyone from the Washington Post to Focus on the Family gave their perspectives on our plight. Most were sympathetic to our situation, portraying the formerly-affiliated ministries as a David fighting against the Goliath of Campus Bureaucracy. While we were reluctant to frame our situation this way, most media did a fine job of demonizing the “other side.” It was quite a struggle during this time not to feel self-righteous or to join in the chorus of accusations against Campus Ministry, but I’m confident we emerged from the debacle with our witness relatively unscathed. We were humble to the point where it seemed like we were bending backwards to respectfully accommodate Campus Ministry’s decision, and our pride took quite a beating as we sought forgiveness for our own wrongdoing from the Protestant chaplains.
Since the original decision was made, Campus Ministry has softened its stance toward us. IV is allowed to have a presence on campus, but we are no longer allowed to be affiliated with the university. We can flyer and rent rooms for our large-group meetings just like any other students, but we have no connection with Georgetown. We have gone full-steam-ahead with all the plans we had for this school year, including growing as witnessing community. The press we’ve received has only managed to grow the number of people we can reach out to, and the perceived difficulties of being a fellowship underground has united us in purpose. Since school began, we have met daily for prayer and praise. We have already begun to see God move in ways that we could have never imagined – friends once hostile to the Gospel are coming with us to visit church, friendships with believers who have fallen from fellowship have been rekindled, and there is a palpable passion for the work that God has us to partner in. We are thrilled with what God has done in our fellowship through the past few weeks, and have come to see clearly how God has used our unexpected circumstances for our unexpected blessing. Our Father has been faithful all along, and His Word is going forth at Georgetown in fresh and spectacular ways.
It came as quite a surprise, then, when I returned from summer vacation to learn that Georgetown had disaffiliated itself with InterVarsity and all other Christian ministries from outside the university. In a letter to the InterVarsity staff, the Office of Campus Ministry said that our community was no longer welcome to have any presence at Georgetown. We could not utilize university rooms, poster or flyer, or have any other representation on campus. Suddenly my entire fellowship was made illegal and forced underground.
After learning of the university’s decision, the IV vision team went ahead with a previously-planned leadership retreat. With everyone back from summer vacation, the retreat had originally been planned to set the vision for our fellowship this year -- growing as a witnessing community for Christ. Instead, we launched into crises mode and began to deal with the fact that Georgetown IV was no longer. At first, the tone of our retreat was one of surprise, shock, and anger. We could not imagine how the people in Campus Ministry were able to eject us from campus in good conscience. The number of participants in our ministries far exceeded their own, and we had seen God powerfully move in IV time and time again. Perhaps it was jealousy, we suspected, or different theological views that had caused the rift. IV had previously been under the authority of Campus Ministry, and the relationship was often very rocky. Campus Ministry was suspicious of IV, warning us against proselytizing and burdening us with draconian measures to limit our activity on campus. Whatever Campus Ministry’s motives, we were certain that they were wrong.
Somewhere in the course of the retreat, though, God changed our hearts. Instead of being cynical about the decision, we became thankful. We came to see the decision as more of an opportunity to witness to the Georgetown community than we had ever been given before. We remembered how, last spring, members of our community fervently prayed for change in the fellowship. We had asked God to shake us up and then settle us more on Himself, and we realized that Campus Ministry’s decision was an unexpected way that He was answering our prayer. We also prayed for Campus Ministry itself, realizing that its Catholic and Protestant leaders love Jesus just like we do. By the grace of God we saw that we were on the same side as Campus Ministry, all of us doing our best to make the Gospel known. The different groups have different methods, for sure, but we serve the same Christ.
After returning from the leadership retreat, there was a firestorm of media. Everyone from the Washington Post to Focus on the Family gave their perspectives on our plight. Most were sympathetic to our situation, portraying the formerly-affiliated ministries as a David fighting against the Goliath of Campus Bureaucracy. While we were reluctant to frame our situation this way, most media did a fine job of demonizing the “other side.” It was quite a struggle during this time not to feel self-righteous or to join in the chorus of accusations against Campus Ministry, but I’m confident we emerged from the debacle with our witness relatively unscathed. We were humble to the point where it seemed like we were bending backwards to respectfully accommodate Campus Ministry’s decision, and our pride took quite a beating as we sought forgiveness for our own wrongdoing from the Protestant chaplains.
Since the original decision was made, Campus Ministry has softened its stance toward us. IV is allowed to have a presence on campus, but we are no longer allowed to be affiliated with the university. We can flyer and rent rooms for our large-group meetings just like any other students, but we have no connection with Georgetown. We have gone full-steam-ahead with all the plans we had for this school year, including growing as witnessing community. The press we’ve received has only managed to grow the number of people we can reach out to, and the perceived difficulties of being a fellowship underground has united us in purpose. Since school began, we have met daily for prayer and praise. We have already begun to see God move in ways that we could have never imagined – friends once hostile to the Gospel are coming with us to visit church, friendships with believers who have fallen from fellowship have been rekindled, and there is a palpable passion for the work that God has us to partner in. We are thrilled with what God has done in our fellowship through the past few weeks, and have come to see clearly how God has used our unexpected circumstances for our unexpected blessing. Our Father has been faithful all along, and His Word is going forth at Georgetown in fresh and spectacular ways.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
It's been a while...
I reckon it’s time to return from my blogging hiatus and to share a little about how my summer went. You might recall from the blog that I kept during my stay in Israel that I would be self-employed in Ohio this summer. Now that it is September, I can say with a big smile that God provided abundantly for all my needs: as a man who needs to be kept busy during the day, God gave me plenty of work and opportunities to take my grandpa for long car rides; as a college student who needs money to pay for the rent in Georgetown, God gave me plenty of financing; and as a study-abroad student looking to settle back into American life, God gave me a patient family and the countless comforts of home. It was both a gift and pleasure to spend the summer in Ohio working by the sweat of my brow by day and growing in relationship with others and God by night. I appreciated home more than I ever expected was possible, and rare was the day when I took for granted my summer life. Highlights were a trip with Luke to a weekend bluegrass festival in Kentucky, the annual Midwest Camp Bike Trip, and the Steidl Family Reunion. More than a couple friends got engaged, a woman younger than my mom passed away at church, and now, at the beginning of September, I find myself three months older than I was in the middle of June. I began lifting weights and wearing cologne this summer to see if I might trick some unsuspecting girl into marriage. So far I’ve had no luck, but I’m keeping my eyes peeled, my muscles toned, and my Wrangler perfume close-at-hand in these last couple semesters at university.
In this new blog, I hope to keep you and me updated twice a week on the goings-on in my life. Thoughts and opinions and commentaries are constantly running through my head, and every once in a while I hope to capture them in writing for my own clarity of thought. As a Christian believer, I think about the Kingdom and witness and sin and salvation and God’s will and the world and Heaven and mystery. As a government student, I think about politics and elections and international relations and justice and law and parties and theories. As a theology student, I think about the Bible and hermeneutics and languages and doctrines and histories and cultures and religions. There is often no method to the madness in my mind, and in the same way there will probably be no systematic approach to what I share in this blog. Hopefully, though, it will provide a window through which everyone can see me and the fella whom God is building me up to be.
I’d encourage your input in the process. If it seems like I’m departing from sound teaching, doctrine, or thought, please let me know -- I promise to think long and hard about it. I won’t pretend to know all the answers, but I will look forward to correction and/or encouragement. Thanks for reading along, and I hope this new blog is helpful for everyone who gets to participate.
In this new blog, I hope to keep you and me updated twice a week on the goings-on in my life. Thoughts and opinions and commentaries are constantly running through my head, and every once in a while I hope to capture them in writing for my own clarity of thought. As a Christian believer, I think about the Kingdom and witness and sin and salvation and God’s will and the world and Heaven and mystery. As a government student, I think about politics and elections and international relations and justice and law and parties and theories. As a theology student, I think about the Bible and hermeneutics and languages and doctrines and histories and cultures and religions. There is often no method to the madness in my mind, and in the same way there will probably be no systematic approach to what I share in this blog. Hopefully, though, it will provide a window through which everyone can see me and the fella whom God is building me up to be.
I’d encourage your input in the process. If it seems like I’m departing from sound teaching, doctrine, or thought, please let me know -- I promise to think long and hard about it. I won’t pretend to know all the answers, but I will look forward to correction and/or encouragement. Thanks for reading along, and I hope this new blog is helpful for everyone who gets to participate.
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