Friday, December 25, 2015

Books I Read in 2015

Fiction:
  1. The Martian (A. Weir)
  2. Ready Player One (E. Cline)
  3. The Screwtape Letters (C. S. Lewis)
  4. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (R. Dahl)
  5. James and the Giant Peach (R. Dahl)
  6. The Little Prince (A. Saint-Exupery)
  7. Fantastic Mr. Fox (R. Dahl)
  8. Gilead (M. Robinson) 
  9. Mr. Mercedes (S. King)
  10. Revival (S. King)
  11. Finders Keepers (S. King)
  12. To Kill a Mockingbird (H. Lee)
  13. The Stand (Complete and Uncut) (S. King)
  14. Matterhorn (K. Marlantes)
  15. The Sparrow (M. Russell)
  16. Sleep Doctor (S. King)
  17. The Witch of Blackbird Pond (E. Speare)
Non-Fiction:
  1. A More Beautiful Question (W. Berger)
  2. Co-Active Coaching (H. Kimsey-House and K. Kimsey-House)
  3. Coaching Sales People into Sales Champions (K. Rosen)
  4. At Home: A Short History of Private Life (B. Bryson)
  5. Consider the Lobster (D. F. Wallace)
  6. Bird by Bird (A. Lamott) 
  7. The Millionaire Real Estate Investor (G. Keller)
  8. Rich Dad, Poor Dad (R. Kiyosaki)
  9. Hold (J. McKissack, et al)
  10. Average is Over (T. Cowen) 
  11. The Art of Stillness (P. Iyer)
  12. The Psychopath Test (J. Ronson)
  13. Managing the Non-Profit Organization (P. Drucker)
  14. Difficult Men (B. Martin)  
Christian Non-Fiction:
  1. The Meaning of Marriage (T. Keller) 
  2. Out of the Salt Shaker and into the World (R. Pippert)
  3. Love into Light (P. Hubbard)
  4. Life Together (D. Bonhoeffer) 
  5. Every Good Endeavor (T. Keller)
  6. What Your Body Knows About God (R. Moll)
  7. Business for the Glory of God (W. Grudem)
  8. Simply Jesus (N. T. Wright)
  9. Concerning Christian Liberty (M. Luther)
  10. The Reformed Pastor (R. Baxter)
  11. Church History in Plain Language (B. Shelley)
  12. Ethnic Blends (M. DeYmaz)
  13. The OT: A Very Short Introduction (M. Coogan)
  14. Mere Christianity (C. S. Lewis)
  15. Prayer (T. Keller)
Biography:
  1. George Whitefield (A. Dallimore)
  2. Silver Screen Fiend (P. Oswalt)
  3. The Kid Stays in the Picture (R. Evans)
  4. The Year of Magical Thinking (J. Didion)
  5. Between the World and Me (T. Coates)
  6. Why We Make Things and Why it Matters (P. Korn)
  7. Updike (A. Begley)
  8. America's Pastor: Billy Graham and the Shaping of a Nation (G. Wacker)
Poetry:
  1. Incredible Good Fortune (U. Le Guin)
  2. I Wrote This For You (pleasefindthis AKA Iain S. Thomas)
True Crime:
  1. Devil in a White City (E. Larsen)
  2. In Cold Blood (T. Capote)
  3. Under the Banner of Heaven (J. Krakauer)
  4. Columbine (D. Cullen)

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Christmastide

Christmastide

The heavens rumble above the shores of silent Galilee.
One star is brightest, calling Sages and Shepherds
To wander and wonder.
The echo builds as it flows down River Jordan
Then claps loudly, awakening souls throughout the Old City
A roar swells as it travels south toward Bethlehem,
All the earth groans with the heavy pull, gravitas.
The young virgin aches, pain crescendos. 
The wave rises above the ancient Inn,
Cresting over the manger, then it breaks. 
Love rushes on the shores of our Father’s Promised Land.
An infant King cries; a tired mother touches His hand.
The force pushed back the darkness that night
Jesus’ birth, a Christmastide. 

Friday, December 4, 2015

The First Christmas Carol

The Gospel story in the Book of Luke does not begin with Jesus or even with Mary and Joseph. It begins with an elderly priest, Zechariah, and his barren wife Elizabeth. One day Zechariah was in the temple when the angel Gabriel appeared to him and said, “Your prayers have been heard and your wife Elizabeth will bear a son and you will call his name John” (1:13). Zechariah had his doubts. “How shall I know this? I am an old man and my wife is advanced in years” (1:18). The Divine Messenger responded with force: “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. And behold, you will be silent and unable to speak until the day that these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time” (1:19-20). True to his word, Elizabeth soon became pregnant. 

Six months later Gabriel appeared to a poor young woman in rural Nazareth, a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph. The angel said to Mary, “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you…. Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (1:28, 30-33). Mary responded predictably: “How can this be since I am a virgin” (1:34)? Gabriel promised that the Holy Breath of God would come upon her and “the power of the Most High” would overshadow her (1:35). He promised that the child would be holy, utterly set apart. Indeed, he would be the very Son of God. Gabriel delivered another piece of surprising news. “Your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son” (1:36). And as if to anticipate Mary’s objection, Gabriel assured her, “Nothing will be impossible with God” (1:37). Mary replied, “I am the servant of the Lord, let it be to me according to your word” (1:38). 

Scared but hopeful, Mary went to the hill country to see her aunt. “When Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord’” (1:41-45). 

Mary responded with a history-shaping hymn of thanksgiving, “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” (1:46-55). And forever after the world was changed. 

God is indeed trustworthy, but he’s not predictable. He fulfills his promises, but not our expectations. In Genesis 3:15 God promised his first daughter Eve that a Savior would eventually come, born of a woman, and crush the enemy who had deceived her. In Genesis 17 (2000 years before Mary was born) God promised Abraham that though he was old and his wife barren he would be a father to many nations and one day a king would be born to rule his kingdom forever. There had been prophecies for hundreds of years that a Messiah would come, a King to rule God’s people, a Savior to deliver them. But no one would have ever predicted this. To an unmarried peasant girl, a poor back-woods nobody, from a town that was literally a joke (people would say nothing good comes from Nazareth), God sent an angel. Who would believe this?  

This was all most unexpected for Mary. Most of the time, if you’re a no-body, you know it better than anybody else. We know from the Book of Luke that Mary and Joseph brought an offering of “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons” (2:24). This was the gift of the poor. When the angel spoke to her and said, “O favored one, the Lord is with you,” she was speechless. It greatly troubled her and she didn’t understand what it meant. “This can’t be true.” When he promised that she would have a baby and name him Jesus, Mary said, “How can this be?” She would have been tempted to think: God is a liar. God can’t use me. God wouldn’t want this mess. I can’t imagine God making something good out of this situation. But in the end Mary said, “I am the servant of the Lord, let it be to me according to your word” (1:38). I don’t get it. I don’t understand it. It doesn’t make sense to me. But OK. I’m in. I’ll trust you. I trust that you know what’s best for me. I trust that you love me. I trust that you won’t leave me alone in all this. I trust you

Scared and confused, Mary went to see her much older aunt, Elizabeth, the priest’s wife. As soon as Mary walked in Elizabeth knew. She knew that God had blessed Mary and she knew that Mary was the mother of the true King. Exclaimed in a loud cry (literally, shrieked): “Blessed are you among women” (1:42). Mary responded: “My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (1:46). 

When you look at Mary she wanted to be sure that you saw the LORD, the beauty, the majesty, the mystery, the power, the glory, the LORD, not her. God is trustworthy, but not predictable.

To paraphrase and interpret Mr. Beaver’s famous line: “God is good, but he’s not safe.” The message of Christmas is dangerous because it’s a message of God exalting the humble and humbling the proud (The bad news is that we’re all proud). “The coming of God is truly not only glad tidings,” wrote Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “but first of all frightening news for everyone who has a conscience.” God is disruptive and Mary knew it. “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” (1:50-35). This is great news for the poor in spirit but terrifying news for the proud and self-reliant. God’s power does not work like the power of the world and often times it competes with and dismantles it.

This is why the Gospel story and the Magnificat (in particular) have produced such a tension in the world. Mary’s Song was banned in India (early 20th century) for fear that integrating it into the weekly services could provoke a revolution. It was banned in Mexico in the 1930s, banned in Spain, banned for public reading by the Guatemalan government in the 1980s, banned in Argentina by the military junta in the 1970s for the same reason: too dangerous, too revolutionary. This is a subversive and provocative hymn of rebellion against the patterns and expectations of this world. The first Christmas carol, the impromptu song of a 13 year old pregnant virgin has been banned because its message has the power to overthrow governments. 

“It is at once the most passionate, the wildest, one might say the most revolutionary advent hymn ever sung,” wrote Bonhoeffer, “This is not the gentle, tender, dreamy Mary whom we sometimes see in paintings…. This song has none of the sweet, nostalgic, or even playful tones of some of our Christmas carols. It is instead a hard, strong, inexorable song about collapsing thrones and humbled lords of this world, about the power of God and the powerlessness of humankind.”

The message of God’s power is overwhelming for those who attempt to hold power too tightly. But for those who, like Mary, trust in God’s power to save, this song is such good news. This is what prompted theologian N.T. Wright  to refer to Mary’s Song as “the Gospel before the Gospel.”

God never changes, but he changes everything. God demanded everything of this young girl. When the angel appeared to her she was sure that her life would be ruined. Everything would now change for her. She would likely lose her fiancĂ©, the man she loved. Her parents would disown her. She could be killed by the Jewish community for sex outside of marriage. She was a nobody before, but this news made her an outcast. Still she trusted God and obeyed. Pastor Timothy Keller referred to this as a “semi-comprehending surrender and submission.” Mary couldn’t see everything yet. But she trusted. She could look back throughout history, in spite of the pain and tragedy, and see that God had been working, and that God was faithful. “Let it be to me according to your word” (1:37). Her soul magnified the Lord. 

When God speaks, things change. “From now on ... all generation will call me blessed” (Lk. 1:48). The language is important: “from now on.” Mary knew that her pregnancy was only the beginning. The writer Luke picks up this phrase and begins to employee it selectively at huge moments of major transition. He does it here in his gospel: “from now on you will be catching men” (5.10); “from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine from now on until the kingdom of God comes” (22.18); “from now on the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the power of God” (22.69); and in Acts: “from now on I will go to the Gentiles” (18.6). 

For Mary it would all be different “from now on.” This was not just theology or theory; this was flesh and blood reality. This was money and food and thrones. She trusted God to keep his promises. He is the same God who created the world, the same God who promised Abraham a nation of descendants, the same God who promised a Messiah to save his people. He is an unchanging God, yet the birth of his Son changes everything. 

The coming of Christ is a cosmic turning point; it is a hinge point for all of history. Mary confessed “from now on” God will scatter the proud. He will bring down thrones. He will fill the hungry with good things, and he will send the rich away empty-handed. This is devastating news for a world that has propped itself up on its own wisdom and power and ingenuity. But this is sweet salvation for those willing to submit—like Mary—to a trustworthy yet unpredictable God. 

Thursday, December 3, 2015

The Word Became Flesh

The season of Advent is a season of longing, waiting and expectancy. It is a season for the church to ready herself to celebrate the coming of King Jesus. We long—we ache—for a Savior because we know deep down that we are people needing to be saved. Even those who can’t admit they are sinners, even those who deny a high morality, even they must concede that things are not as they should be in this world. And for the most honest of us: “Things are not as they should be in me.” This is why Christmas is good news. 

Christmas is the story of the incarnation, the story of Jesus coming “in the flesh” to save sinners and right the wrongs of the world. How can we overcome the cruelty and injustice of the world? How can we overcome the cruelty and injustice in our own hearts? How can we restore our broken relationship with our Creator? The crushing answer to all of these questions is: we can’t. Yet still there is hope. Cruelty and injustice can be overcome. Our divine spiritual relationship can be restored. Our unique purpose in the cosmos can be rightly explained. But not by us. The solution to the wrongness in the world, the solution to the wrongness in our hearts, is the incarnation. The solution is Christmas. 

The Beloved Disciple wrote, “In the beginning was the Word [logos], and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it…. 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” (John 1:1-5, 14).

To the Jews, the Word of God was the presence and action of God. To the Greeks, the Logos was the origin of all things. The Logos ordered creation, made sense of the world. The Logos was the calm behind the chaos. Here John is telling both Jews and Greeks that the Word (Logos) became flesh. The presence, the power, the action, the force of God, the logic behind all of the creation, that which makes sense of our world became flesh and dwelt among us.

In his book Peculiar Treasures, Frederick Buechner wrote about the Beloved Disciple and about his Beloved. He said, “John was a poet, and he knew about words. He knew that all men and all women are mysteries known only to themselves until they speak a word that opens up the mystery. He knew that the words people speak have their life in them just as surely as they have their breath in them. He knew that the words people speak have dynamite in them and that a word may be all it takes to set somebody's heart on fire or break it in two. And at the beginning of his Gospel he wrote a poem about the Word that God spoke…. When God speaks, things happen, because the words of God aren't just as good as God's deeds; they are God's deeds. When God speaks, John says, creation happens.... ‘The word became flesh,’ John says (1:14), and that means that when God wanted to say what God is all about and what humankind is all about and what life is all about, it wasn't a sound that emerged, but a man. Jesus was his name. He was dynamite. He was the word of God.” 

“Nothing in fiction is so fantastic,” wrote J. I. Packer, “as is the truth of the incarnation.”

The dynamite, the fantastic, the mystery of the incarnation, is that somehow Jesus is both fully God and fully man. He was born a little baby, went through adolescence and puberty. He had parents and siblings. He had a job. He had friends. He was betrayed. He was rejected. He was wounded. And of course, he died. Jesus was fully human yet never ceased being God. Jesus is Immanuel, God with us, and this is a profound mystery, an instructive truth in the flesh.

For one, the incarnation teaches us that God is humble, or to use John Calvin’s language, “accommodating”. Humility is what distinguishes Christianity from most other major religions. Ours is not a story of man becoming god (a story of gaining) but of God becoming Man (a story of giving). In humility, God choses us.  “God chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world” (Eph. 1:4). In humility, God pursues us. “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). Ours is a story of class disparity, undignified romance, and lopsided union. We are lost coins. He is a hidden treasure. We are barren figs. He is a flourishing vine. Christianity is not man attaining nirvana or enlightenment or transcendence. This is not man ascending into divinity. This is God descending into flesh.

Christmas is the story of God as a baby, vulnerable, exposed, born in obscurity to rural parents, diapered, dependent, killable. Ironically, it is when Jesus seems most helpless that he is most powerful. God seemed so weak as a newborn baby. God seemed so helpless nailed to the cross. Yet in those moments the world was utterly and irrevocably transformed. 

Why did Jesus have to be fully God? Because we need a Divine Rescuer. Why did Jesus have to be fully man? Because we need a High Priest to divert God’s wrath (Heb. 2:17). Only God can forgive sins. Only man can be punished for sin. Jesus atoned fully. He paid the debt eternally. He is both Just and Justifier (Rom. 3). Jesus serves not only as our example, but as our substitute.

“God became man to turn creatures into sons,” wrote C. S. Lewis, “not simply to produce better men of the old kind, but to produce a new kind of man.” Christmas does not promise renovation; it promises resurrection.

Advent is a season of eager anticipation. The purpose is to whet our appetites for celebration. What are we celebrating? The solution to all our problems has come: God in a manger; the Divine wrapped in flesh, formed with features; the Eternal Creator anchored in space and time to split history in two; Immanuel, God with us. In other words, we celebrate that we are not alone. We celebrate the ancient and future hope … the possibility … the assurance … that words have the power to change everything. And one Word is all we need.