I've been reading The Shack, just like every other good christian out there. Okay, except the christians who like Mark Driscoll, because he says the book is a heresy known as modalism. People have been pretty divided and extreme on this book, some saying this is our generation's Pilgrim's Progress, others saying that you shouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. As is the case many times when both sides are saying that, neither extreme case is right. The book is decent. Has some teachable moments. Isn't going to reshape a generation and bring revival to all those who read it, touch it, or are breathed on by someone who read it or touched it.
I'll make a comment here, but I won't ruin the premise of the book for you, you might as well give it a read since there's been some hub-bub. I've been reading it slow, it's about the 4th book on my list right now. That means I have a bookmark in 3 others that are better, and only if I'm in a dry part in those will I actually reach for The Shack. But it's a decent read.
All that being said, last night I finally got to the part that was worth the price of the book altogether. Wanna hear it?
GOD is a VERB.
I AM.
I was and I am and I will be.
I am the way, the truth, and the life.
I am LOVE.
It's all over Scripture. God is a verb. I'm still digesting that comment, but it's so true and applicable that I'm blurting it out.
I'm thinking about the creation story, and how God started with light.
Light is a verb too, I think. A wave, anyway.
And when God did make nouns, lots of nouns, they still needed the verb, the action, the GOD that flows through them and in them. And so the stars dance and the sun spins and the moon orbits. They all have that verb flowing through them, that God-ness in them, His Fingerprints.
Another place it shows up: in ancient Hebrew, the words for work and for worship were basically one and the same. Enter into His presence and lift up His Name by doing, moving, singing, clapping. And go out and keep his name glorious by doing something useful with your hands
Okay, enough abstraction for now. I need to go be an imitator of God and verb some myself.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
I like fire
Happy New Year to everyone out there. I of course spent my whole New Year's Day watching football, eating sloppy joes and tostitos, and hanging out with Scott and my dad in front of the tube. Didn't get out of my sweats all day. That's supposed to be the perfect day, right?
Well I think January 2nd has been the best day of the year, actually. My uncle Bill has two wood burning stoves, which needed refilling. So, with the perfect winter day weather, Bill drove his brown and tan '84 Chevy over behind our house and brought his chainsaw. Kyle, my Dad, Bill, and I dove into clearing the downed trees that were still all over our treeline from *ahem* July. There were several huge trees. The nostalgic, somber part was several huge tree branches that had collapsed the roof of our tree house. Before anyone could pause and get sentimental, my dad is standing on top of the shaky, half-destroyed structure with his chainsaw revved up all the way. He turns 49 in less than two weeks, and still it's his 18 and 23 year old sons down below yelling cautious things. Oh Dad, what a guy.
I didn't get to do a lot of chainsawing, but it was still fulfilling to drag all those smaller branches down to our burn pile. It was huge. I had an incident with a leaf pile down there over Thanksgiving break that got a little out of hand, so I was hesitant in how to get the huge pile of lumber started; I didn't want another panic moment that came with the towering inferno of leaves. Curiously, the fire actually kept going out. The branches were stacked wrong or something. We had little fires brightly running off of the leaves three or four times, each failing in turn. Kyle and I finally went boy scout style and started our own fire, separate of the pile without lighter fluid (because we ran out on the first four attempts, not because we're consciencious granola eaters). With careful tending, it grew into a steady flame, and then a comsuming fire.
I had the pleasure of tending the fire all afternoon. We had Bill's truckbed filled past capacity soon after lunch, and Dad went in to work to do paperwork, and Kyle helped me get the fire going but then sauntered off. I could have left too, but nah. The fire was mine. All afternoon. For the next few hours, I fed the fire, watched the flames dance, contemplate the next few months, talked with God, and even sang a little. Aren't fires mesmerizing? I figured that if I could spend a whole day watching a flickering box project little men run around with a ball, I could spend this day staring at a fire, surrounded by a beautiful winter day until the sun lowerd to light it's own slow fire in the sky.
One spiritual moment from that time that I'd like to share: there was some greener wood in the pile that kept curling up as it burned. It reminded me of the verse from the familiar Psalm, #23: "Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Meditating on that verse for awhile actually became a little unsettling--as a sheep, wouldn't I somewhat fear the rod and the staff? That curl on the staff is going to grab me if I am off the path, or goofing off. And hopefully the rod is for predators, but it probably should be used on me too if I'm needing of discipline. *Gulp* I suppose all those who are In Christ are grateful for the staff that one time, when we were the 1 and He left the 99 and pulled us out of the ravine or out of the stream or whatever ridiculous situations our sins had us in. Salvation, praise God. But after that, He can put down the rod and staff, right? I mean, we're friends of God now. No need bruising any sheep....
Acutally, yes, there is a need at times to bruise a sheep. I'm realizing that while I have been meditating on the Love of God a lot and coming to deeper understanding there, I maybe have had tunnel vision. There are other aspects to His care for us that are just as essential. Maybe not as cushy. But just as necessary for our growth and becoming more like Jesus. Hebrews 12 will tell you that God disciplines us because we're sons, and it's a beautiful thing. The Lord knows I need more discipline in my life. Not my strong suit. I'm good at being led by His Spirit and just going with the flow, but it's so true that God works through structure and planning and routine, too. More often in the Bible it's called faithfulness, perseverence, and administration.
Come Lord, with Your rod and Your staff. I want to feel your comfort in that way. Help me to become a more rounded individual and a better steward of the grace you've poured out in my life. And thank you for FIRE.
Bonus: My favorite song about fire today:
Well I think January 2nd has been the best day of the year, actually. My uncle Bill has two wood burning stoves, which needed refilling. So, with the perfect winter day weather, Bill drove his brown and tan '84 Chevy over behind our house and brought his chainsaw. Kyle, my Dad, Bill, and I dove into clearing the downed trees that were still all over our treeline from *ahem* July. There were several huge trees. The nostalgic, somber part was several huge tree branches that had collapsed the roof of our tree house. Before anyone could pause and get sentimental, my dad is standing on top of the shaky, half-destroyed structure with his chainsaw revved up all the way. He turns 49 in less than two weeks, and still it's his 18 and 23 year old sons down below yelling cautious things. Oh Dad, what a guy.
I didn't get to do a lot of chainsawing, but it was still fulfilling to drag all those smaller branches down to our burn pile. It was huge. I had an incident with a leaf pile down there over Thanksgiving break that got a little out of hand, so I was hesitant in how to get the huge pile of lumber started; I didn't want another panic moment that came with the towering inferno of leaves. Curiously, the fire actually kept going out. The branches were stacked wrong or something. We had little fires brightly running off of the leaves three or four times, each failing in turn. Kyle and I finally went boy scout style and started our own fire, separate of the pile without lighter fluid (because we ran out on the first four attempts, not because we're consciencious granola eaters). With careful tending, it grew into a steady flame, and then a comsuming fire.
I had the pleasure of tending the fire all afternoon. We had Bill's truckbed filled past capacity soon after lunch, and Dad went in to work to do paperwork, and Kyle helped me get the fire going but then sauntered off. I could have left too, but nah. The fire was mine. All afternoon. For the next few hours, I fed the fire, watched the flames dance, contemplate the next few months, talked with God, and even sang a little. Aren't fires mesmerizing? I figured that if I could spend a whole day watching a flickering box project little men run around with a ball, I could spend this day staring at a fire, surrounded by a beautiful winter day until the sun lowerd to light it's own slow fire in the sky.
One spiritual moment from that time that I'd like to share: there was some greener wood in the pile that kept curling up as it burned. It reminded me of the verse from the familiar Psalm, #23: "Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Meditating on that verse for awhile actually became a little unsettling--as a sheep, wouldn't I somewhat fear the rod and the staff? That curl on the staff is going to grab me if I am off the path, or goofing off. And hopefully the rod is for predators, but it probably should be used on me too if I'm needing of discipline. *Gulp* I suppose all those who are In Christ are grateful for the staff that one time, when we were the 1 and He left the 99 and pulled us out of the ravine or out of the stream or whatever ridiculous situations our sins had us in. Salvation, praise God. But after that, He can put down the rod and staff, right? I mean, we're friends of God now. No need bruising any sheep....
Acutally, yes, there is a need at times to bruise a sheep. I'm realizing that while I have been meditating on the Love of God a lot and coming to deeper understanding there, I maybe have had tunnel vision. There are other aspects to His care for us that are just as essential. Maybe not as cushy. But just as necessary for our growth and becoming more like Jesus. Hebrews 12 will tell you that God disciplines us because we're sons, and it's a beautiful thing. The Lord knows I need more discipline in my life. Not my strong suit. I'm good at being led by His Spirit and just going with the flow, but it's so true that God works through structure and planning and routine, too. More often in the Bible it's called faithfulness, perseverence, and administration.
Come Lord, with Your rod and Your staff. I want to feel your comfort in that way. Help me to become a more rounded individual and a better steward of the grace you've poured out in my life. And thank you for FIRE.
Bonus: My favorite song about fire today:
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