In honor of the holy days ahead and seeing as no one in their right mind is reading blogs and such (even ones as brief as this one) I have decided to shut ‘er down for a week or so after tomorrow’s post.

My parting thoughts (except for tomorrow’s post) are thus.

Please don’t get too uptight about people saying “Happy Holidays,” instead of “Merry Christmas” –let’s just do our celebrating on purpose, with an awareness that this celebration centers on the most profound act of humility in history.

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

-from John 1

If you have reason to celebrate that goes beyond sentimentality then be glad. And be merciful.

“…And his mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
and exalted those of humble estate…”

-from Luke 1 (from Mary’s Song)

Let’s keep the Gospel in Christmas.

May Yahweh be merciful to each of you. Have a happy Christmas.

Tomorrow’s post will have to do it for a “thought for Christmas” from me this year. Peace to you.

And speaking of humility, here’s a picture of me in the snow. Yippee. Fun times with the little ones.

I love Advent season and the feast of Christmas. What better way to welcome the start of Advent than with the song of humble Mary, wife of Joseph, mother of King Jesus? Want to know why Mary is one of my favorite heroes of the Bible? Read her lovely song. (More on this later.)

And Mary said,

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
And his mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
and exalted those of humble estate;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
as he spoke to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”

From Luke 1 (esv)

This is one of those scribbles that starts off in the toilet then proceeds into heaven. “I hope,” he says, scratching his beard.

There is a bathroom a certain man frequents. When this man first enters the dark and private chamber the lights do hesitate, and then do come on–even while the baffled first-timer gropes along the wall for the usual trigger. Having found none, he thinks to himself, “Ah, automatic lights. What would Jules Verne think?” And he proceeds to enjoy the meaning of lighted, lavatorial convenience.

Later this same man is fooled only a few more times in the ritual, and he no longer gropes along the wall for the on-switch–-there is no such switch, only a sensor–and he relieves his mind of that duty and skips this formerly ingrained step.

Later still he anticipates with confidence what will occur moments after he enters the darkness and, in jubilation, he snaps his fingers in concert with the burst of light. He feels a little bit like God.

That man is me.

I remembered, of course, that I wasn’t God. It actually served as a little goad to good-thinking. God, like the tale spinner he is, speaks and the world he imagines breathes, blinks, and gets flat tires. He is all-powerful and his words are alive. “Light,” he says and there it is.

My pretended pretense does, however, make me think of all the genuine pretense I engage in. How I pretend sovereignty in many rather insane ways. For instance, I grumble about my health. I react with disgust when my selfishness is rebuffed. I complain when modern conveniences are a little bit slower than they should have been. I believe insane political ramblings about what I’m entitled to. I sit in a culture rich beyond the imagination of almost every person who has ever lived (and is living) and I complain about circumstances, the “economy,” and my rights.

When I am like this I am a humanist.

That is, I see man as the center of the universe and, if he is included, God is included in the same way he is a popular name to drop at the end of the imbecilic, political speech. Here is a familiar, non-threatening, accommodating grandpa whom no one takes seriously anymore.

But I don’t think that’s true, so why do I act like it’s true? We can wrap up a product of the restroom in a gold-plated treasure-chest but it doesn’t do much to change the product in question. It is what it is.

Belief is more than intellectual consent.

If I believe the Gospel (which is a particular batch of good news), I do not just affirm it in my mind. Enemies can do that. Believers believe with more. We live by faith.

Abraham took Hagar. We all stumble in many ways.

I am thankful that God lovingly reveals the idols we often unwittingly allow to dominate our hearts while he is wrecking everything to love us. So die, damned humanism of my heart.

What does faith in Yahweh look like?

I believe that faith in Yahweh is full of thankfulness, and not jealous of claimed “rights.”

I believe that faith in Yahweh is astonished at mercy, not eager for personal justice.

I believe that faith in Yahweh is abounding in grace, not miserly and hoarding.

I believe that faith in Yahweh is patient in affliction, not outraged at the loss of what was a gift to begin with (like health, wealth, position).

I believe that faith in Yahweh is humble, not preoccupied with status.

I believe that faith in Yahweh sees suffering and does not cry out to God “This is unfair,” but instead cries out, “Oh God, you have been merciful to me, can I be merciful here?”

I believe that faith in Yahweh is astonished that anyone receives mercy, increasingly so as the reality of our offense becomes clearer as we grow closer to Jesus.

I believe faith in Yahweh issues in love (in that order), not that somehow “loving everybody” gets you standing with Yahweh.

This is something very simple we pray in our home because we need a lot of mercy, want to be thankful people, and we want grace real bad. And we want to look to Christ, and have life.

“Oh God of Abraham, please give us humble hearts.
Oh God of Isaac, please give us thankful hearts.
Oh God of Jacob, please give us faith. Let us see Jesus.”

Understanding that these are gifts, and not entitlements, ought to go a long way in answering the prayer for humility.

To say that stories don’t matter is a kind of intellectual insanity. To say that our own individual stories (and our interpretation of them) take precedence over objective reality and revealed truth is a deplorable, post-modern, bear trap of arrogant rebellion.

Stories matter for many reasons, not least of which is that the story of Jesus is news we must believe and embrace to have eternal life, forgiveness of sin and guilt.

But embracing our own story and our own version of events is also one of the most dangerous things possible. For by embracing our own way we naturally say “no,” even “Hell no,” to God.

This is a bad plan, and a bad way to live out the story of your life. Don’t be that character.

The video.

The audio.

3. Like faith, stories engage us as whole persons, not as parts.

No one believes anything important with the intellect alone. Believing is a whole body, whole life experience. If it doesn’t involve everything, it’s not belief but simply an agreement with an idea. Believing enlists all the aspects of the mind. It involves the will, curiosity, personality, character, our bodies, imagination. You don’t believe anything deeply that isn’t a product of all that you are.

Reason is a tool that will serve any master, including the most odious. By itself it does not get us where we need to go. We need to use it as well as we can, but we are foolish to think that any single human faculty is sufficient to guide our entire lives. A lot of wrong thoughts about life come from not treating people wholly. Anything that respects only reason, or only will-power or discipline will break down.

Consider the example of Nathan’s confrontation of David, after he had slept with Bathsheba and murdered her husband (2 Samuel 12). He tells a story to David, and he tells it masterfully, using timing and irony and pathos. David becomes enraged by the actions of the rich man in Nathan’s story and declares that he deserves to die.

Notice that David’s intellect, emotion, sense of justice, and body are involved. He responds as a whole person, which is exactly the response Nathan must have desired. And then the prophet says most powerfully, “You are that man!,” bringing the full force of the message home to David and leading him to repentance.

So, it stinks to feel bad. Sickness, sadness, and pain of all kinds are a real revelation of authentic, or inauthentic, trust. It’s a challenge to our selfish worldview –our pretensions to the Throne of the Universe. We say in our hearts, “This is not fair. I am good. I deserve to be healthy. I appear unable to control this and that challenges my assumption that I am the master of my life.”

At least those are things that clamor for my (mostly subconscious) acknowledgment when I don’t feel well (which is –whine alert- not all that infrequent).

How do you deal with the insurgence of selfishness which is revealed at times like that? Are there portions of Scripture (in context) you focus on? 

I think Psalm 46 is inspiring and instructive. We had memorized that as a family for times of suffering, struggle, and pain (we need to get back to that, actually, so we don’t lose it from our memories). Romans 8 comes to mind, and some others.

What about you?

In our little, family Bible study tonight we got to the place where Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law, shows up and offers Moses some advice. It’s in Exodus chapter 18.

Some of the things I observed in the passage/story/history…

Moses spoke with God. God spoke back. He was a rare man, with rare access to Yahweh in a personal way which is hard to imagine. He could inquire of God and expect a response.

Jethro comes along and sees the way Moses is governing (Moses is doing too much on his own –will wear himself out). Jethro offers some advice.

Moses does NOT say: “Listen, buddy. I speak to God, I don’t need you coming in here with your advice and telling me what you think. I moved my hand and the Red Sea parted. I struck the rock and water came out. I held up my staff and we won the battle.”

No. Moses displays a humble heart in honoring Jethro, and in listening humbly to his wise advice. He follows the advice and implements a good government.

The application part on that, like so much of the Scripture, is pretty easy. Now to obey…

Moses by Michelangelo Buonarroti

“Don’t criticize a man until you have walked a mile in his moccasins.”

I don’t have moccasins, and I’m sure I got this proverb wrong. But we’ve all heard something like this many times. Why? Because it’s a really good saying and bears repeating.

The last few days have been an opportunity for me to step in and take over many of my wife’s daily tasks. She has been sick, and thankfully is getting better. But it’s been a chance for me to walk in her moccasins.

We have a fairly “traditional” family. In other words we think we’re better than everyone else. OK, not really –God help us. But Gina’s vocation is a “keeper at home,” a wife (to one guy) and mother (to three kids: 6, 3, and a baby). It’s her self-described and long-planned for “dream job.” That is, it’s what she has always wanted to do and believes she is called to do. Dream job?

Wow, this is not an easy job. I knew that, but after walking a few days in her shoes (losing the Native American footwear theme there) I can say that my appreciation for her has grown once again.

She is an amazing woman. She has a very challenging job. That she handles it with such cheerfulness and grace (mostly…hey she is human –this is not a primer on Moralism –it’s tough) only serves to make it look easier. But she has a tough job. A good job –but not anything like easy. She is an excellent wife and mother.

I could go on and on about little particulars but I’ll just reduce my thoughts here for the sake of brevity. Here are some somewhat random expressions of things that are swimming in my mind (mostly geared towards men).

-Husbands, live with your wives in an understanding way. Nothing helps us understand like stepping in and stepping up.

-Contentment is a great gift, and any help in encouraging/fostering contentment is major.

-The King and Creator of the universe grabbed a towel and washed his follower’s feet. Kingdom leadership is defined by loving, humble, sacrificial service.

-Acknowledge that your wife’s job is a challenge. Recognize that she is NEVER off the clock, and that if she’s ever going to be then YOU need to make that happen.  

-If your wife is not a nag (even with a tough job) then give thanks to God and praise her. Living with a nag is like always walking around on a floor of steaming, stinking crap.

-When you do another person’s job you see all the little things they do all the time that don’t ever get noticed (and if they are quiet, humble, and faithful they may not mention them). Try to notice them out loud. We all need encouragement.

-There’s no promotion from Mom/Wife. It is the top job. So if Mom/Wife gets a positive performance review (in this life), it’s probably going to be you who does it. Do it.

-I have not been, am not, and certainly will not soon be the ideal man in such things. But I do pray and plan to keep moving forward and asking God for a humble heart on this and all things.

-The Gospel provides the only clear avenue for not trusting in our own goodness (exalting ourselves) or getting destroyed by a defeated self-loathing. We stand in Christ, or we fall.

-Men are usually something like a tyrant or an emasculated weakling in our sinful, selfish natures. Men do lead their homes –often (in these times) by their absence/passivity. Lead well in humility and presence.

-We need to pray for humble hearts. Nothing is impossible with God.

“No doubt some Christians need to be shaken out of their lethargy. I try to do that every Sunday morning and evening. But there are also a whole bunch of Christians who need to be set free from their performance-minded, law-keeping, world-changing, participate-with-God-in-recreating-the-cosmos shackles. I promise you, some of the best people in your churches are getting tired. They don’t need another rah-rah pep talk. They don’t need to hear more statistics and more stories Sunday after Sunday about how bad everything is in the world. They need to hear about Christ’s death and resurrection. They need to hear how we are justified by faith apart from works of the law. They need to hear the old, old story once more. Because the secret of the gospel is that we actually do more when we hear less about all we need to do for God and hear more about all that God has already done for us.”

Kevin DeYoung

See entire post here.

“In recent years it has become popular to sketch the Bible‘s storyline something like this: Ever since the fall, God has been active to reverse the effects of sin. He takes action to limit sin’s damage; he calls out a new nation, the Israelites, to mediate his teaching and his grace to others; he promises that one day he will send the promised Davidic king to overthrow sin and death and all their wretched effects. This is what Jesus does: he conquers death, inaugurates the kingdom of righteousness, and calls his followers to live out that righteousness now in prospect of the consummation still to come.

Much of this description of the Bible’s storyline, of course, is true. Yet it is so painfully reductionistic that it introduces a major distortion. It collapses human rebellion, God’s wrath, and assorted disasters into one construct, namely, the degradation of human life, while depersonalizing the wrath of God. It thus fails to wrestle with the fact that from the beginning, sin is an offense against God.”

D.A. Carson

Emphasis mine. HT: Justin Taylor