8/30/10

Seeing Jesus


In John 12, some Greeks have come to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. They approach Philip and tell him, "Sir, we would like to see Jesus." And ever since, God's people come together to hear the Word proclaimed, desiring to see Jesus. Sometimes we do. The bearer of the good news preaches mightily, beautifully, truthfully, passionately, so that we recognize our own unworthiness and our Savior's great worth. And we cry at the wonder of it all—that this perfect One—before time ever began—chose us to be His and established an elaborate plan to make us His own. We cry at our own unworthiness and His supreme worth, and we wonder how it could be that He could ever have an interest in us, never mind love us. And then our tears recede and we're filled with joy as we believe—again—that the good news is true: He does love us, has died for our sins, and has risen so that one day we can live with Him. We know in that moment that this is reality. The rest—from the bad economy and high taxes, to the failed carpool that leaves us wondering how our child will get to school, all the way down to the fact that we're cold in August in the out-of-control air conditioning and we have no sweater—fades away, and all we see is Jesus. And we think that this must be what heaven is like, in some way, the truth capturing our hearts and minds so that we focus on the one reality that truly matters—the beauty and glory of our Savior, Jesus Christ. And we wish that we could stay there and listen forever and marvel at it all—as we will in heaven.


At Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary's annual conference last weekend—The Beauty and Glory of Christ—the preachers showed us Jesus, again and again. It was beautiful. Get a sample of it here, with Iain D. Campbell's "He Is Altogether Lovely."  Your response will be "hallelujah" (meaning "praise God"), which speaker Dr. James Grier explained to us on Saturday morning is the one word in the Bible that is a command that we fulfill just by saying it (think about that). I noticed that the rest of the addresses were available on SermonAudio.com as well. None will disappoint.

8/23/10

OJ, D&W, and the Sabbath


It was a small victory, but it's one worth sharing. Besides, I told the cashier that I'd tell people about what happened. So here it is . . .

Last Friday, I went to one of my favorite local grocers, the Knapp's Corner D&W Fresh Market on the northeast side of Grand Rapids, to pick up some lunch and a couple of other items I needed. D&W is one of those rare grocery stores that is a pleasure to be in. You can forget that grocery shopping is a chore at D&W, with its clean new cutting-edge look, gourmet food items that you don't buy but that are fun to look at, and excellent wine selection. It also features a Starbucks that, without fail, offers samples every time I'm there. It costs more to buy groceries at D&W, but you're not just getting groceries, you're getting a shopping experience.

As I was walking in, I noticed a banner hanging from the ceiling, advertising a number of specials. The one that caught my eye was the carton of Tropicana orange juice for 99 cents a carton, limit three. Normally I get excited when it's on sale for two for five dollars, so you can imagine my thrill as I realized the great savings I would experience.

A young guy was bringing in some carts, and he watched as I viewed the banner and turned to grab a cart since I would now be adding three cartons of OJ to the couple of small items I planned to purchase. He said, "It's chicken today," and I simultaneously wondered what he was talking about and realized as I looked—again—at the sign that D&W was offering a super sale on one particular item per day, and the OJ sale was for Sunday.

I looked at the cart guy and said, despairingly, "I don't shop on Sunday." And I don't. This is one of the ways our family observes the Sabbath. We don't, among other things, make purchases at stores on Sunday. He nearly said, "Oh . . . you're [one of those, he started to say] (here in Grand Rapids, home of the Dutch Reformed, there are still a few of us old-fashioned Sabbath observers) . . . maybe if you ask at the front desk they'll give you a rain check.

I picked up the items I needed and headed for the deli to pick up a sandwich. I had already decided that the Sabbath OJ sale would just be one of those minor disappointments that I'd rally from pretty quickly, and I was going to just let it go. But as my friendly cashier was ringing up my items, I had a sudden burst of something, and I explained my situation: "I shop here often, we drink only Tropicana OJ (it's true—we don't like others), and I'd love to take advantage of the sale, but I don't shop on Sunday."

"Let me mention it to my manager," she said. When she returned a minute later, she told me that the manager said I could have the sale price—today. The next thing I knew, I was the happy owner of three cartons of Tropicana OJ with vitamin C and lots of pulp, promising to tell everyone I knew about the gracious management of D&W.

And so I'm keeping my promise. And knowing that I got Sabbath OJ on Friday for 99 cents will make it taste that much sweeter.











8/17/10

Underlining


I'm an underliner. There are people out there (my husband among them) who wouldn't dream of putting a mark in a book. But I learned way back in my college English major days that underlining—with its accompanying notes in the margin in pencil—was much more effective than trying to take notes. It's a record of what made that book good, of what I was thinking of when I was reading it, of what I learned. One of my favorites is an old, beat-up copy of Huckleberry Finn that I bought as a college freshman. I loaned it to friend after I used it, so it has her notes alongside of mine. It's one of my greatest book treasures.

Here are some of the passages I've underlined from books I pulled off the shelf:

From Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis:

"The gods have been accused by you. Now's their turn."
"I cannot hope for mercy."
"Infinite hopes—and fears—may both be yours. Be sure that, whatever else you get, you will not get justice."
"Are the gods not just?"
"Oh no, child. What would become of us if they were?"

From Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, as Huck reflects on the tarring and feathering of the duke and the king:

"Well, it made me sick to see it; and I was sorry for them poor pitiful rascals, it seemed like I couldn't ever feel any hardness against them any more in the world. It was a dreadful thing to see. Human beings can be awful cruel to one another."

From Calvin's Institutes:

"Those for whom prophetic doctrine is tasteless ought to be thought of as lacking taste buds."

From Too Good to Be True by Michael Horton:

"The good news is never that one has died, but that death has been ultimately conquered by the Lord of life. At the graveside, neither optimism nor pessimism; sentimentalism or stoicism, tell us what is happening here. Only Jesus' cross and resurrection define the event for us."

Why did I underline these passages? What made them stand out? I underline passages that are full of meaning—that help me see old truths in a new way. I also underline passages that are integral to the message of the book. I also like to underline beautifully written passages. I underline things that I want to remember. I remember being shocked as I read Lewis and realized that God, in fact, does not serve us justice because we would be destroyed. And Twain, via Huck, reminds us of the depravity of man. Calvin's turn of phrase is both clever and truthful. And Horton expounds a profound and comforting truth for anyone who has ever faced death.

So when I learned that the folks at Amazon are keeping an online list of the most highlighted passages in Kindle books, I had to take a peek. If you make the assumption that book readers are thinking people, people who like to learn and who enjoy interacting with ideas, you can form some impressions about our current culture by seeing which books are most read and which ideas in those books are noteworthy to readers.
Which books are people reading? Some that come up often are Outliers (Malcolm Gladwell); The Last Lecture (Randy Pausch); The Shack (William Young); Cutting for Stone (Abraham Verghese); Eat, Pray, Love (Elizabeth Gilbert).

What are the profound thoughts that people are highlighting in these books, the thoughts that have gripped them as they read? Here's a sampling, and I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions about the quality of the thought life of both today's writers and readers:

"Practice isn't the thing you do once you're good. It's the thing you do that makes you good."—Malcolm Gladwell

"Life, too, is like that. You live it forward, but understand it backward."—Abraham Verghese

 "'Pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly.' She waited a moment, allowing her words to settle. 'And if left unresolved for very long, you can almost forget that you were ever created to fly in the first place.'" –William Young

"If you work hard enough and assert yourself, and use your mind and imagination, you can shape the world to your desires." –Malcolm Gladwell

"You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."—Elizabeth Gilbert



So what do you underline? 

8/14/10

Great Stuff: On Gays, Gay "Marriage," and Why Young People Are Leaving the Church

I found lots of interesting things to read this week, all them fairly brief. Right now, because of all the commotion regarding the overturning of Proposition 8 in California, writers have some interesting things to say about that subject. Carl Trueman, at Reformation 21has an interesting piece on what we, as Christians, need to be thinking about as culture overwhelmingly comes to accept homosexuality and gay "marriage" as legitimate lifestyle choices.

And you may note that I've been putting quotation marks around the word marriage when I write gay "marriage." That's because of an intriguing piece at American Thinker that makes the case that our argument against gay marriage should be that it doesn't exist. I've never heard this line of reasoning before, and it's compelling, especially among those who wouldn't accept biblical arguments against homosexuality and gay marriage.

And finally, we hear that young people are leaving the church in droves, despite the current focus on relevancy and the efforts to be authentic. In this Wall Street Journal column, Brett McCracken, whose book on this subject recently released, offers some interesting insights.

8/9/10

The Idol of Me

Blogger Tim Challies has some interesting insights in his post today entitled "The Idol of Communication." He makes the point that with the astronomic number of blogs, books published, text messages, e-mails, and letters sent, communication dominates our world. He observes:


By all appearances we have made communication into a kind of cultural idol. In most cases it is not Facebook or the cell phone that is the idol. Instead, they serve as enablers, as enhancers, of the greater idol of communication. Christians have proven to be far from immune to this idol, from following along as the culture around us becomes obsessed with communication and dedicates vast amounts of time and resources to it. Christians will do well to remember that in God’s economy communication is but a means to the far greater, far more noble end of enjoying God so we can bring glory to him. Communication can detract from this purpose just as easily as it can serve this purpose.


Challies offers up some interesting points, noting how communication, via media like cell phones and Facebook, consumes users' lives. In fact, he points out, communication itself has become an idol.

I wouldn't disagree with him, but I think I'd take it one step further. Today, we often point to money as an idol, and so it often is. And while some people hoard money and worship it, more often it is a means to obtain the material possessions that people ultimately want and then worship as idols--houses, boats, cars, expensive vacations, clothes, technology. In a similar sense, communication becomes the tool for obtaining the ultimate idol.

We've always had the ability to communicate, but, as Challies points out, "the scope of [communication], the speed of it and the reach of it" have changed. "It is now the dominant paradigm through which we live our lives."

So as I observe teens (and even not teens) devoting their energies to texting, I note that one of the things they're accomplishing is reminding someone who isn't with them that they're there. That absent person's response implies significance, importance: "You're so important to me that even though I'm not physically with you, I'm still communicating with you as much as I want. If I'm important to you, you'll text back." So you do, because if you fail to acknowledge the sender's significance, she might someday fail to acknowledge yours.

And on Facebook, a young wife and mother broadcasts her anger at her church for all the world to see, never mind the appropriate channels for expressing an offense given to us in Matthew 18. A businessman, husband, and father known as a leader in his church posts lewd, locker-room humor--again, for all the world to see. Young women post pictures of themselves scantily clothed in provocative poses, as though they were modeling for lingerie ads or escort services. A young man, rebelling against his parents, proudly announces his latest immoral activity, using language that is coarse, offensive, R-rated at best.

Communication serves only as the vehicle to bring these people who are sacrificing their principles, integrity, and reputation to the actual idol: self, affirmation, attention--the spotlight.

This becomes clear in a sad situation that occurred over the weekend. A young man who was headed for his freshman year in college in a few weeks died suddenly, accidentally, tragically last Friday. He was an athlete, a musician, an excellent student who would make any parent proud. He was full of promise. He was my daughter's close friend. And as soon as word got out that Joel had died, his Facebook was filled with the sentiments of seemingly anyone, whether they had truly been his friend or not. While many of the messages were sincere in their sorrow, one message that made me cringe especially was a young woman's expression of her excitement that Joel was now with Jesus, and, unfortunately, she wasn't the only one leaving such odd thoughts. (Young lady who posted this: if you see this boy's parents or sisters, please do not tell them that you are excited that he is with Jesus. You will leave them with yet another ugly memory on top of all the other ugly memories this incident will leave them with.) And I've digressed. But my point is this: Who were these people leaving sentiments for? Joel is dead--yes, with Jesus. He can no longer access his Facebook account or read the kind sentiments that people are leaving for . . . him? Is it possible that these messages serve another purpose?

So yes, in the sense that money is an idol that leads to other idols, communication has become an idol that leads to other idols. Instead of striving to have things, though, the communication-driven idol has more to do with being--being noticed, being affirmed, being in the spotlight. And it probably brings us closer to what any idol obviously leads us to worship: ourselves.

8/2/10

Annette 300: Gratitude

Katie Selden Photography
We celebrated Calvin 500 last year in honor of the great theologian's five hundredth birthday. Reformation Heritage Books, the publishing house where I work, is already gearing up for Reformation 500 in 2017 to celebrate Martin Luther's nailing the Ninety-Five Theses to the Wittenburg church door.


Annette 300 really doesn't have anything to do with reforming the church, and it won't be celebrated in special book publications or conferences. It is, however, a milestone for me: this is my three hundredth post since I started this little blog in January 2007. And there have been so many life changes since then!


This post I published back in 2007 best captures what I hope will be the theme not only of this blog, but of my life:


As an editor, I work in an environment of thought. If I'm not reading something someone else has written, I'm writing something myself, and lately I've been finding that even my out-of-work time is spent reading about theological debates that I didn't even know were being argued (more on this another time). I always find it interesting when the same concept recurs within a relatively short period of time, because I know that even the ideas that I'm confronted with come not from chance, but from God's fatherly hand.

The theme for this week seems to be gratitude as a response to cynicism. This came up for the first time Monday morning during our departmental Bible study, when the study leader asked how we combat the dangers of cynicism. The point that was being made in the book we are reading together was that it is very easy to become cynical when we work in a culture of Christians (such as Discovery House Publishers and RBC Ministries). I thought that it was an interesting question, but it never seemed to be answered, and I put the question behind me as soon as Bible study ended and I returned to my desk to consider the work ahead of me for the week.

And then my last posting addressed the issue of gratitude, that our beliefs organically express themselves in our actions. We express gratitude for all that Christ has done for us by obedience to God's law, because He tells us that if we love Him, we will keep His commandments.

And it all came together during Wednesday's chapel service. The speaker, Don Denyes, pointed us to 1 Chronicles 29:10ff., where David rejoices that the people have given so generously for the building of the temple. In his prayer is the foundation for gratitude. Interestingly, Denyes pointed out that the first layer of the foundation of gratitude is knowing who God is (what we believe), as David lists many of God's attributes (greatness, power, glory, victory, majesty). When we truly know Him, we will be grateful.

We also need to understand that God is sovereign, that He controls all things (v. 11). When we understand that all belongs to God and that He controls all the circumstances of our lives, we can be thankful for whatever happens in our lives.

Finally, we need to understand who we are and what we deserve. David says, "Who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to offer so willingly as this?" When we understand that what we actually deserve is not nothing, but rather eternal condemnation, we must be thankful when we realize the great blessings of salvation.

Gratitude is a good theme, and it's definitely an antidote for the cynicism that can so easily take over when we read the news or simply interact with other human beings. Gratitude forces our focus away from ourselves and onto the One who has never been motivated by selfishness. And for that I am thankful.