Monday, July 6, 2020

#180 Misery

In my branch of Christianity we have a statement of faith called the Heidelberg Catechism. It's a series of (generally) short questions and answers that covers a lot of the basics of what we believe. I really love the second question and answer. (I'd like to tell you Q&A 2 is my favorite, but that's Q&A 1, which says that our only comfort in life and in death is belonging body and soul to our faithful Savior Jesus Christ. That's everybody's favorite. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.)

The catechism asks, "What must you know to live and die in the joy of this comfort?" Then it answers, "Three things: first, how great my sin and misery are; second, how I am set free from all my sins and misery; third, how I am to thank God for such deliverance."

That first part can seem like it's coming out of left field. To have comfort and joy, I must know how great my sin and misery are, and you must know how great your sin and misery are. How does that add up? We don't like to focus on sin or misery. It's one thing to know that the world is miserable—creation is broken and often harsh, society is twisted and corrupt. It's often easy for us to know that other people are sinful—human beings are fallen and inclined toward all sorts of evil. But knowing those things isn't really enough. If I am truly going to believe the good news of Jesus Christ and receive life and peace in Him, I need to understand how sinful and miserable I am. (And the same goes for you, too.) I am wicked and self-destructive. I sin again and again and again, and on my own I can't stop, no matter how hard I try. (And to be honest, left to my own devices I don't try that hard or for all that long.) My sins deserve death. I face troubles and sorrows and disasters that I can't escape under my own power. Understanding my sin and misery properly sends me running to Christ Jesus, the only one who can rescue me. Understanding my sin and misery properly helps me truly understand God's grace in delivering me. Understanding my sin and misery apart from Christ makes me truly want to thank Him by living a transformed life with His help and His power. One of the amazing things about our God is that He can make misery a good thing by using misery to lead us to Him and His salvation. There's some comfort for you.

Grace and peace,
BMH

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

#179 The Man of Tomorrow

I received a Superman book for Father's Day (shocking, I know): Superman Smashes the Klan. The book adapts a story from the old Superman radio show. In 1946, the Lee family moves from Chinatown into the main section of Metropolis. There they face hatred and harassment from the Klan of the Fiery Kross. Superman, Inspector Henderson, and the staff at The Daily Planet work to defend the Lees and expose the Klan. This wonderful story about resisting racism and welcoming others really resonated with me because of our current discussions about race in the U.S. (see my last post for more thoughts on that).

In the book, the Grand Scorpion of the Klan of the Fiery Kross believes that white people are superior, and he tries to argue that "you cannot unite a nation of people who share neither blood nor history." During his climactic confrontation with Superman, he stresses his point again: "The Lees aren't "your own"! You share no blood with them! No history! There is literally nothing that binds you together! That has been the Klan's point all along! A nation bound by nothing cannot last!"

Superman knows how to respond to this: "But we are bound together. The Lees and I… our friends at The Daily Planet and the Unity House and the police department… everyone down there, really… We are bound together by the future. We all share the same tomorrow."

I love that little speech. I think Superman's words here reflect the reality of the church in some ways. We who believe in Jesus are diverse. We come from different nations and cultures and backgrounds. We share some broad basics—our common humanity, our sinfulness, the saving death and life of Jesus—but we aren't all natural family members or friends or even allies. Some of us were enemies in the past. Some of our histories seem about as different from others' as we can get. But Jesus gives us a shared future. He calls us to work together as citizens of His kingdom. He inspires us to love each other as sisters and brothers in His family. And He promises us all life together with Him. Reconciliation is at the heart of Jesus' work. He reconciles His people to God. And He reconciles us to each other. Jesus gives us a shared and better tomorrow.

Grace and peace,
BMH

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

#178 I Don't Have the Answers

So it's been a while. Since I'm writing for the first time in a month, I guess this blog isn't totally dead, but I've been struggling with what to say lately. I've been thinking quite a bit about racism and its prevalence in American society. I've kicked around different ideas for a new post. I could write about how racism is a sin and how God overcomes our sinful divisions to gather His people from every race and ethnicity into a new humanity. I could write about how God is a God who opposes injustice and oppression, a God who cares for and defends those who are mistreated and forgotten. I could write about our common humanity and how we are better off when we welcome and learn from people who we view as different from us.

But the more I think, the more I feel that I shouldn't do any of those things. The thing is, I'm a white person living in a country where white people have had power and control for a long, long time. I haven't experienced the pain of racism. I don't know the way forward. As a white person, and more importantly as a Christian, I believe I do need to say that racism is real and wrong. Racism is in the hearts and words and actions of individuals—including me, I'm sure, in ways I'm not aware of—and racism is in the structures and systems of our society. But if I'm truly going to stand against racism, I need to listen to others. I need to follow others' lead. I need to learn more and more. This is going to take a while, so I better start now. If you're in a position similar to mine, I hope you'll join me. Let's not give up when the news cycle moves on. And if you're in a position where you can teach, correct, and call me out, do it. Don't let me be silent or ignorant. Don't let me move on.

Black lives matter. I know those words carry a lot of baggage for some people, but let's set that aside for now. That statement is absolutely true. I'm sorry that my actions and inactions have contributed to a culture where Black people feel like their lives don't matter to others. Black lives matter to God. I want to live in a world where nobody—myself included—needs to be reminded of that. I want to do my part now. Father, your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Grace and peace,
BMH

Monday, May 25, 2020

#177 Teach Us to Pray

"Lord, teach us to pray," Jesus' disciples say in Luke 11. Jesus responds by giving His disciples the shorter form of what we call the Lord's Prayer. (The longer form, the one Christians tend to memorize, is found in Matthew 6.) Jesus teaches us to pray through the model He gives in the Lord's Prayer as well as the other prayers we find in the Bible, such as the psalms. But I think Jesus teaches us to pray in other ways, too.

A couple months ago I encountered a quote by J. Neville Ward: "The purification of desire, the education of human wanting, is one of the principal ways in which God answers prayer." That quote has stuck with me. I think I've experienced that in my life. Last week I wrote about how the Holy Spirit is always at work in the lives of Christians to make us more like Jesus. According to Romans 8, the Holy Spirit prays for and with us. Sometimes I come to prayer angry or stressed or fearful or desperate. Sinful and selfish person that I am, sometimes I want vengeance or an easy way out of my troubles or the freedom to do whatever I want. But when I begin to pray the Holy Spirit often changes me. The Spirit reminds me that God is in control, that I am in God's presence. Suddenly those selfish, sinful prayers don't seem as appealing. If I pray them I'll soon end up confessing. And many times I don't actually pray them at all. Instead I'll ask God to work in my heart and show me my faults. I'll ask for strength to endure or growth in Christlikeness or God's blessing on people who have really been bothering me. It doesn't happen all the time; I'm far from perfect. But after years of trying to pray and learn what God wants by reading the Bible, I find that God is answering my prayers by shaping how pray, by purifying what I pray for. And that makes me want to know and love God even more.

Grace and peace,
BMH

Monday, May 18, 2020

#176 Transformation

Let's talk about sanctification. Sanctification is a big word that refers to the process of becoming holy. When Christians talk about sanctification, we talk about becoming like Jesus. Christians are called to love like Jesus loved us. Now clearly we are all a looooong way from that standard. Everybody fails to love again and again. I do. You do. We all do. A large portion of the letters in the New Testament deal with sanctification, teaching us how we should live. God calls us to leave behind our sinful ways and imitate Jesus. By following Jesus' example we live the way God has created us to live and we show Jesus our gratitude for saving us. But becoming like Jesus is a long and difficult process for us. We need to work to be less selfish, less hateful, less greedy, less lustful. We need to strive to be more loving, more honest, more content, more merciful. Sometimes we do well, and sometimes we don't. Sanctification can be extremely frustrating. We can seem hopeless.

But there's good news. Once Jesus saves us, He doesn't say, "Okay, figure out how to become a better person," and leave us on our own. Jesus sends us His Holy Spirit. We have to work on our sanctification. But the Holy Spirit, who lives in us, is also working on our sanctification. It's a team effort. The Holy Spirit works with us, in us, even at times in spite of us, transforming us to be more like Jesus. We still have to try, but it's not all up to us. The Holy Spirit won't give up and won't fail. That's a huge comfort. It's like God rubs off on us over time. Sometimes consciously and sometimes without realizing it we learn to care about others' pain, to be forgiving, to honor God, to put God first. Sometimes our growth may be so slow that we can't see it, but the Holy Spirit never stops. For the rest of our lives our sanctification will continue. When Jesus returns, He will finish His work. We will be like Him; we will be complete. That's a goal worth working toward. That's a hope worth holding on to.

Grace and peace,
BMH

Monday, May 11, 2020

#175 Alternative Order

Did you know that Christians and Jews have the books of the Hebrew Bible (what Christians call the Old Testament) in a different order? I recently finished reading through the Old Testament following the Hebrew arrangement. It looks like this:

Law: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy
Prophets: Joshua, Judges, Samuel, Kings, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi
Writings: Psalms, Job, Proverbs, Ruth, Song of Songs, Ecclesiastes, Lamentations, Esther, Daniel, Ezra, Nehemiah, Chronicles

A couple things to note: First, Joshua-Kings are considered the Former Prophets, while Isaiah-Malachi are considered the Latter Prophets. Second, Daniel is not counted as a prophetic book in Jewish understanding.

I would strongly recommend reading the Old Testament in this order. If you've read the whole OT before, doing things slightly differently can keep it feeling fresh for you. But there are some other benefits. For one thing, the transition between Kings and Isaiah works really well. After reading through the story of the fall of the kingdoms of Israel and Judah, you move right into prophetic books that speak about the reasons why God brought the judgment of exile on His people as well as giving hope for future restoration. For another thing, the bleak yet hopeful outlooks of Ecclesiastes and Lamentations pair well together. Finally, Chronicles serves as a really good springboard into Matthew and the New Testament. The stories of David's dynasty of kings prepare you for the coming of Jesus, the Son of David. Plus, Chronicles, ends with a note of God's faithfulness in light of His people's unfaithfulness, a beautiful setup for God's ultimate display of faithfulness and rescue in the saving work of Jesus, the Messiah. Give it a try!

Grace and peace,
BMH

Monday, May 4, 2020

#174 Confessions of a Sleepy Dad

Obvious statement alert: parenting is tiring. Right now Tess and I have a three-year-old, Lanie, who almost never runs out of energy, and a nearly three-month-old, Mia, who still wakes up pretty often at night. Sometimes I'm stressed about work and Lanie is whining, and I think that running away and hiding from her for about an hour sounds pretty good. Or I'll be half-asleep and Mia will just keep crying instead of giving in and falling asleep, and I'll    practically be able to feel the warmth of my sheets and comforter.

But then Mia will calm down after I finish changing her diaper and smile at me for a few moments. Or Lanie will climb into my lap with a book and snuggle up to me while we read. Then suddenly the weight of the exhaustion and the frustration melts away. I remember just how much I love my girls. Here's another obvious statement: parenting is worthwhile.

Grace and peace,
BMH