Tuesday, December 23, 2008

justice and compassion

Merry Christmas.  I’m going to sound a bit grinch’ish on the front end here, so I figured I’d start out with the ol’ happy holiday greeting.

Much of the Bible makes me uncomfortable – but not for the reason you might expect (well, maybe).  I was posting something in regard to a project helping with the poor and adjustable eyeglasses, and thinking about Christmas and it’s place in my little world.  Like many things, this is how the world works – how does it fit within my sphere of life.  How does it affect me, make me feel, what is the chief end of time as a whole in regard to me?  Christmas is a great time for family (we’ve already had one great Christmas in our household this year, with another two coming this week), and when set together with Advent, you get a real sense that there is a streak of hope that isn’t to be denied.  I’m not trying to do that here.  I get uncomfortable because as I read more of it, meditate on more of it, pray over more of it, I get the sinking sensation that I am missing the point over and over and over again. That above posting did that to me today.  I’ll try to explain.

 

What I’m thinking about is why Jesus was sent in the first place.  After 400 years of silence to the Jewish people, I’m sure the hope was palatable.  They were prisoners, in a sense, in their own homeland, ruled over by and empire that had little regard for them on the top level (see Herod and the genocide of babies to refuse a coming King). Just below that, a corrupt political and religious mid-level that claimed to hope with their lips, but the practice of these white-washed tombs said something entirely different.  They were content with the current system in many ways (in a sense, they were the ultimate sell-outs, but that’s another story).  In the end, even they saw the coming redeemer as a conqueror – one that would replace the current empire and put them at the right hand, helping bring in a new kingdom of power and peace.  For them, the proverbial Christmas or Advent was one about them – a redeemer from political oppression.  But, if you are familiar with anything with the tradition of Christmas, you know that wasn’t the point.  Instead, we have shifted our thoughts to the other end of spectrum – Jesus as the precious baby in the manager, adored by the visiting people – truly a specimen of happiness and joy.  So, Christmas tradition today is largely about that portion – the hope, the coming, and the giving.

 

This is what is bothering me.  Christmas is great for so many reasons.  But it is incredibly tragic for the One who was sent.  Incredibly, indescribably, and if we were in His place for even a moment, we’d see this part even more clearly, tragic.  Imagine just for a second about the loss for our gain.  Not just on the cross – in the manger. There are a myriad of analogies that could be used here, none even getting close to doing this moment justice.  There was never another plan – this was not a contingency.  When He created, He knew.  This small baby in manger is destined for nothing else on this earth. Talk to me if you will about your anger with God – how He is unjust for letting the weak suffer, for the poor to perish, and the hungry to starve and I will point you here.  He who breathed life into flesh, to do with whatever He might will, chooses to become flesh to save condemned flesh.  The just became unjust, for the righteousness of God was destined even in birth to bearing of unrighteousness outside the camp He created.  It was this righteousness alone that allowed Him pay the price.  He took His own rules and played by them. There is joy in that, in obedience, but I think there is much sadness too.  If we had not sinned, there would be no need for Christmas. 

 

In the end, you may feel bombarded by various causes and charities seeking some of your hard earned and often meager cash in this season.  But before you turn from them, I think it should be understood that we do so often because we have no concept of the poor like His concept.  We have no compassion for the needy and dirty like He has.  We have no knowledge of justice like His – we fear the consequences of our sin so much that we lie, cover up or blame with barely a second thought. He sees the wage of our sin and offers Himself, who had done no wrong, to provide justice, to provide payment.  This coming to earth wasn’t some sort of goodwill tour, spreading cheer and joy to the 4 corners of Israel.  He was sent for justice, a price to paid on His own back.  This baby in a manger is the Holy God in flesh, the One whom no man could see prior for fear of complete destruction.  Isaiah was left on his face, trembling.  Moses could only bear to see His backside glory, and that alone left him aglow.  John falls down before the angels who served in His presence, for even they are beyond him.  And now He is dwelling not in the creation of Genesis 1-2 that He Himself wrought, but in the Genesis 3 fallen creation.  This is the ultimate in compassion. He is left with the shepherds and later the magi come to worship Him, a small solace for the legions of worshipers He left in heaven. This is our manger, like it or not.

 

In the end, Paul says it best in his letters to the Corinthians - He made Him who knew no sin became sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

 

What if you and your family were to take that on in this season – to become something for someone that they themselves cannot become? 

 

So, somehow, we need to mix this manger with sorrow.  There is great joy in the coming of the Redeemer.  But let’s not forget why they call Him the Redeemer.

 

That’ll keep my head buzzing for the rest of the week I think.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Roles, Goals, Scheduling

Currently Amazon.com lists 90,864 books under the topic of "time management." Titles range from Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity by David Allen, a helpful book I recommend, to Time Management for Dummies, a book I have not read, although it appears I represent the target audience.

"Time management" books are hot and it's obvious why—we all want to discover some previously unknown secret that will enable us to become more productive. Yet in this series we have discovered that getting more things done does not mean we are getting the right things done.

Or to put this in a little triad: busyness does not mean I am diligent; busyness does not mean I am faithful; busyness does not mean I am fruitful.

In the past several posts in this series, we looked at procrastination: putting off until the last moment tasks that are important (and presumably most difficult), and instead devoting ourselves to what is easy and urgent, but not as important.

My busyness may be procrastination in disguise.

But today we transition in this series from discussing the hindrances to biblical productivity (procrastination, laziness, and the tendencies of the sluggard) to looking at how we can effectively plan and prioritize.

From my study of this topic and my observation of those I admire (and desire to emulate), it appears to me that being faithful, productive, and fruitful for the glory of God requires that I accomplish three things:

1. define my present God-given roles,
2. determine specific, theologically informed goals, and
3. transfer these goals into my schedule.

Over the next several posts we will develop these three in some detail.

But you may be thinking to yourself, why go through the trouble of determining these roles, creating goals, and fitting all this into my schedule? Why not take life as it comes?

Perhaps you dislike—or even despise—all things related to planning. Perhaps you, like me, can identify with my friend Michael McKinley when he recently wrote: "I would rather stick a fork in my eye than sit in a planning meeting." Mike has painfully and creatively captured my tendency to postpone planning, and if possible, avoid planning altogether. But while I think of myself as an all-about-the-moment guy, my avoidance of planning is to the detriment of my schedule and (more importantly) to the detriment of my service to my family and church.

Here's why.

The problem for those of us with this fork-in-the-eye approach to planning is that during each day the most urgent requests will compete with and distract from the most important goals and priorities of our lives. Each day the number of requests we receive normally outnumber the time allotted for the day. My experience confirms that if I fail to attack my week with theologically informed planning, my week attacks me with an onslaught of the urgent. And I end up devoting more time to the urgent than the important.

And at the end of the week there is a low-grade guilt and dissatisfaction in my soul, because I've neglected to do the truly important stuff. I want to have as few weeks like this as possible in whatever time remains for me to serve the Savior. I'm thinking you do as well.

--------


Posted by C.J. Mahaney

Roles (Part 1)

 
 

It's not hard for us to imagine that pastors and church planters are called by God. This is clear to us throughout Scripture. So when we come across the first verse in Romans, where Paul says he was "called to be an apostle" (ESV), we have no problem with this.

But what about the rest of us?

What about a stay-at-home mom with two kids? What about an auto mechanic? How about a real estate agent and a business owner? Has God called them?

What about you? Are you aware of being called by God to a particular task?

Theology of Work

Disagreements over a "theology of work" are common throughout church history. In fact (I was just told) the Middle Ages was marked by a stiff distinction between sacred and secular work. Pastors and church leaders were considered called; laborers were not so called. One is sacred; one is secular.

Then along came a Reformation.

Not only did the Reformers make a giant stride by viewing "secular" work as a calling from God, they took a second step and broadened this calling to include not only work but also vocation.

Leland Ryken writes in his book Redeeming the Time (Baker, 1995), "The early Protestants rightly conceived of our callings as being much broader than our job. All of our roles in life are callings. Being a spouse, a parent, a church member, a neighbor, and a Christian are all callings" (p. 151).

By this, the Reformers introduced an understanding of God's sovereignty that included all of life—every vocation, every detail, every moment.

Today it appears that many Christians aren't clear on their work as calling. Christians are normally clear that we should live out the Christian ethic in the workplace. But the Reformers were calling for something bigger.

Ryken writes:
Most Christians believe they can be a Christian at work. To do so involves being a diligent worker, being honest in one's dealings with an employer, and witnessing to fellow workers. But this still leaves the work itself untouched by one's Christian faith. The original Protestants were right in going beyond this and claiming that the work itself is a spiritual issue and a means of glorifying God. We can be Christian not only in our work but through our work if we view our work as an obedient response to God's calling. (p. 148)
This perspective will transform your attitude as you proceed to work, wait in traffic, and arrive to work for yet another day!

Determining Roles

But how can I be certain of my own calling? How can I know I am in the right job? Am I in the proper career path? What about where God wants me in the future? How do I determine God's intended vocation(s) for my life?

In his book The Spirituality of the Cross (Concordia, 1999), Gene Veith provides two insightful questions.

First, where has God placed me?
How do we know our vocation? Strictly speaking—and contrary to the way we pressure young people to "decide" what they are going to do when they grow up—a vocation is not something we choose for ourselves. Rather, it is given by God, who "calls" us to a particular work or station. God gives each individual unique talents, skills, and inclinations. He also puts each individual in a unique set of external circumstances, which are understood as having been providentially arranged by God. Since vocation is not self-chosen, it can be known too through the actions of others. Getting offered a job, being elected to an office, finding someone who wants to marry you, are all clues to vocation…

Perhaps later, another vocation will present itself. But vocation is to be found not simply in future career decisions, but in the here and now. Nor can a person use the excuse of "not having a vocation for marriage" for getting a divorce, or claim "not having a vocation for parenthood" as a way to dump childrearing responsibilities. If you are married, that's your vocation. If you have children, they are your vocation. (p. 80)
Second, where am I positioned to serve others?
The purpose of one's vocation, whatever it might be, is serving others. It has to do with fulfilling Christ's injunction to love one's neighbor…Our relationship to God is not determined by our good works (since those with a sinful nature can never have enough of them to earn anything before God)—what we need rather, is forgiveness for our sins and the perfect good works of Jesus Christ. But our relationship to our neighbors is determined by our good works, which themselves are only made possible by God working through us. (pp. 77, 78)

Essentially, your vocation is to be found in the place you occupy in the present. A person stuck in a dead-end job may have higher ambitions, but for the moment, that job, however humble, is his vocation. Flipping hamburgers, cleaning hotel rooms, emptying bedpans all have dignity as vocations, spheres of expressing love of neighbor through selfless service, in which God is masked. (p. 80)

It may be that our vocation is not clear because we have not started with these two questions.

  • Where has God placed me?
  • Where am I positioned to serve others?
Take a moment to look down at your feet. Go ahead, look. For most of us, our feet are currently resting within the geographic circle of God's calling on our lives. In the future God may call you outside that circle. But that is for another time.

I fear too many Christians are so distracted by thoughts of the future that they cannot discern with clarity how God has called them to serve in their present vocations. Though they show up for work each day, they don't work with passion and joy each day.

Conclusion

As you ask yourself these questions, pray that God will help his specific call on your life become clear. Look down, and write down what you discover.
    
Keep the list handy, because next time we will look at that list and get into the specifics.

Posted by C.J. Mahaney