“The story of Jesus tells us that our root problem is not just failing in our obedience to God (not being good enough) but in relying on our obedience (being really, really good) to save us.  Therefore, the gospel is a ‘third way’–  neither religion nor irreligion. The religious person may say, “I am doing the right things that God commands” and the irreligious person may say, “I decide what is right and wrong for myself.” But both ways reject Jesus as Savior (though they may revere Him as ‘Example’ or ‘Helper’). Both ways are strategies for self-salvation– both actually keep control of their own lives.”

Tim Keller, The Prodigal God

I loved this book, immediately listened to it twice in a row. I can’t recommend it enough. Very challenging, full of truth.

::.:: Audio Version ::.::

“If you do not enter into the mystery of godliness and allow God to be in you the origin of His own image, you will seek to be godly by submitting yourself to external rules and regulations imposed on you by the particular Christian society you have chosen…you will in this way perpetuate the pagan habit of practicing religion in the energy of the flesh, and in the very pursuit of righteousness commit idolatry in honoring ‘Christianity’ more than Christ!”

Ian Thomas

Read that again? And again?

HT: Rebecca Reynolds

I stoled this quotation from Justin Taylor who stoled it from some other dude. It’s Martin Luthur on the value of literature to prepare the way for good Theology –though not necessarily the way you think. I call it very true.

It sort of has some of the same themes from this post I did at the Rabbit Room about the spiritual value of imaginative literature. Me and Luther, you know…the um, er….top sources for this sort of thing. Ahem.

“I am persuaded that without knowledge of literature pure theology cannot at all endure, just as heretofore, when letters [literature] have declined and lain prostrate, theology too, has wretchedly fallen and lain prostrate; nay, I see that there has never been a great revelation of the Word of God unless he has first prepared the way by the rise and prosperity of languages and letters, as though they were John the Baptists. . . . Certainly it is my desire that there shall be as many poets and rhetoricians as possible, because I see that by these studies, as by no other means, people are wonderfully fitted for the grasping of sacred truth and for handling it skillfully and happily.”

Luther

Note: This is a repost from a few years ago.

The setting for the story of our life is changing. We’re moving. It’s not the biggest, most daring move. We’re not traveling 8,000 miles to live in Africa (as my parents did with us when I was a kid). We’re moving about 100 feet. We are buying and moving into our neighbor’s house. (Insert coveting jokes here.)

Boring?

I hope not. The small story of our family moving is about more than more space, more than moving up the hill into a little bigger house. It’s about a dream, a vision, a story our lives are telling.

Overstating it?

We’re moving because we believe the setting of the new house will allow us to thrive in our passions. We believe it will help us be and do who we are and what we are called to.

Space, the final frontier. We did not need more space. We have said, “we need more space,” and have heard others say it many times. It’s sort of true, but not really. We have more space than most people in the world and in history have had. (A good measure, I think. Especially to gauge thankfulness.) We could have made it work.

We want more space. Why?

I want to set my beautiful wife up to succeed in everything she’s called to. I believe that’s part of my job (and one I’m slowly learning to do better, I hope, by grace). Gina has some hard jobs. These are jobs she loves, feels called to, and wants to do. Jobs like cooking every day to feed five…er, six, people. Jobs like teaching the kids about birds, sums, sentences, and czars. Jobs like sewing and writing, leading and loving. The new place enables her to more easily achieve success in her work. This is the leading reason for the move, in my view. But there are others.

We want to have people over. Hospitality has been on our hearts for a long time and we want to have a space that makes that possible/easier. The place we’re moving to is not huge, by any means. But the way it’s laid out allows for a lot more room to have people in our home.

The fact that there’s more opportunity for easier hospitality figures into our plans for our children. We plan to have a lot of “home games” with their friends. We want our kid’s friends of all ages to want to come to our place and to have room to operate and have a good great time. This house gives us more of that.

The place has a small hut that I plan to use for writing. A Writer’s Hut, which Chris Yokel –outstripping all competitors– has perfectly named “The Forge.” It’s kind of a dream-come-true. (Of course, it needs some work. Much like the novel I can’t wait to return to writing when things settle a bit.)

I could go on, but you get it.

We think this place will serve to aid us in our various vocations. And that’s the point of writing a little about this.

The setting changes, the story proceeds. I could go on about our situation in particular, but I mainly just want to connect the move (an ordinary thing) with our calling and our story.

I want our decisions, under God, to connect our family to the story we’re in, both in the common themes, and the plot lines particular to us.

So, here’s to the wild, wonderful adventure of moving next door!

What’s happening in your life? What is God doing to advance the plot of your story?

FYI: Gina took all these pictures. I steal things from her site a lot.The first pic is of what will soon be our “old house.” The last one is the mailbox my brother Will painted for me. It was a swell gift. The funny thing is (concerning the name on it) this was well before I, or anyone else, used “S.D. Smith” to refer to me, myself, and/or I. I remember thinking it was funny at the time. Now, literally tens of people know me by that name.

Note: This was originally posted at The Rabbit Room. Also, FYI FWIW: This is my 700th post here.

It’s a dangerous thing to be alive, where temptations to think we’re better than others are everywhere. Temptations to believe we deserve more, ubiquitous. Sinful pride is part of our awful inheritance, even when we’re depressed.

Sometimes I think it’s all about me, that even my failures are more important than they really are, or ever could be. It’s the smoking gun of pretended sovereignty, of usurpation. I sigh, denied.

And my sighs are the song of selfishness thwarted. Sighs pour forth from the fancy mouths of make believe monarchs, kings detecting treason in every ordinary frustration. Everyone is out to get the selfish man, because everything is about him.

I sigh because I’m a thirty-four year old man and crying in public is bad P.R.

If I sigh, a defeated, surrendering soul, I am blessed.

If I sigh, a frustrated king, an idolater whose god just did nothing again, I am a moaning idiot. I am slapping back at the gift-hand of my Father.

Who am I? Good question.

It’s the only question and only the right answer will serve.

Because from that answer I know my story and the danger then is in forgetting. We are skydivers all, but there is such a thing as a parachute. Remember?

Sighs are so often the evidence of my forgetting. They are the heaving woes of wounded idols. They are the crying out for water now, bread now, a return to the slavery of Egypt now.

But, though I am often a forgetter, I am never forgotten.

That makes me happy.

Don’t forget to remember who you are and remember not to forget it. And never never ever ever be redundant.

Speaking of redundancy: When my brothers and I were kids, my Dad had one instruction when he dropped us off anywhere. He would always say “Don’t forget whose boys you are.”

A good word.

Whose child are you? The answer to that question, for those in Christ by grace, is a sigh of relief.

Be relieved. Be happy. Sigh not so.

Images from Alan Jacobs, The Gospel of Trees

“The essence of other religions is advice. Christianity is essentially news.”

Tim Keller

I’m not a big U2 fan. My wife is, and I have no negative feelings toward them, but I sometimes get the reactive attitude related to them. Everyone worships them and it’s been so trendy for so long and sometimes I react to that. Didn’t root for Michael Jordan. Never saw The Passion Of The Christ, etc. I’m totally inconsistent on that, but there it is. So…

I had a bunch of friends in Nashville who went to see U2 recently and it was kind of like the second coming to many of them. But their enthusiasm was pretty catching. Afterwards, Thomas McKenzie linked to a story many of the concert-goers were referencing on Twitter.

You have probably heard Bono talk about Grace and how it’s better than Karma. (If not, read it here.)

Well, he displayed it here. I love this kind of thing.

He invited a fan onto the stage at the close of the show, a blind guy who wanted to play a song for his wife. Bono sang along and the band joined in. Watch it below. Aside from just being cool, this was a little picture of grace to me. Some one, undeserving really,  being welcomed into something much bigger than himself, experiencing an incredible, story of a lifetime, moment. Remind you of anything?

“If you want a loving God, you have to have an angry God.”

Tim Keller