First book on Christmas wishlist

The following happens to me every year: I go to family Thanksgiving dinners and as I finish a piece of pumpkin pie I am reminded that I need to produce a Christmas wishlist. A good thing, right? Somehow every year I totally struggle to come up with ideas. What invariably comes first to my mind is books. Images of book covers run through my head like the Cover Flow feature in iTunes. Do I go with a commentary? A dictionary? A missiology (my favorite subject in theology) book? Something thick and dense, like Barth’s Church Dogmatics or Calvin’s Institutes of Christian Religion?  Perhaps something classic that I don’t yet own, like Augustine’s Confessions or Kempis’ Imitation of Christ? Or something a bit lighter, like Donald Miller’s new A Million Miles in a Thousand Years? Or maybe a book by someone I actually know, like Matt Rogers’ Losing God? Or maybe (and this is my least favorite) something with no overt theological meaning?

This year I am putting a biography on the top of my list (at least for now…I can be fickle with this). Over the past year, books by a late missiologist, theologian, and ecumenicist Lesslie Newbigin have been placed in front of me- some requirements for classes, some for research, and one as a gift from a friend. I have been deeply challenged both personally and academically by Newbigin, as has been evidenced by the number of posts on this blog related to him.

So I’ve decided to put this book in the top spot: Lesslie Newbigin: A Theological Life. The author is a Duke Divinity theologian named Geoffrey Wainwright.

Here is the thing: I don’t actually expect to get the book. It’s $75. I always put the unattainable ones on the top of the list. I just feel like I have to provide a list that is faithful to my desires- no paring down the list based on price.

My remedy is to provide a more realistic option as number 2. I am still working on this. I am leaning toward Newbigin’s Household of God: Lectures on the Nature of the Church.

Filed under: Life

Karl Barth’s last words

From Michael Jinkins’ Invitation to Theology:

On the evening of December 9, 1968, the aged Karl Barth was working on a lecture, his last lecture, and one he never gave. Only a few days earlier he had said:

The last word which I have to say as a theologian [...] is not a term like ‘grace’, but a name, ‘Jesus Christ.’ He is grace, and he is the last, beyond the world and the church and even theology.

Barth had been thinking a lot about death in those days, his friends said, and about life after death. But on that night in December he continued to work. The phone rang as he sat writing at his desk. He stopped writing in midsentence and answered the phone. It was his old friend [...]. They talked for a while, and after the conversation Barth did not return to his lecture. He left it for another day.

He died that night, and his lecture ended in midsentence. But the thought is complete. It reads:

God is not a God of the dead but of the living. In him they all live.

These were to be the last words we received from the pen of one of the most prolific Christian theologians in history.

Filed under: Life, Spirituality, Theology

On the balance between scholarship and discipleship

Since starting seminary over a year ago, I have often wrestled with this question: How do I merge the scholarly world of intellect and information with the “real world” of faith and discipleship? In some traditions, talk of seminary and intellect has such negative connotations that anyone taking an interest in such things is deemed suspect. Destined to fall into the abyss of cerebral knowledge absent of authentic worship. In other circles, knowledge and intellect are so revered that church leadership is withheld until certain academic standards have been met. And Christian discipleship can, in this scene, be relegated to a secondary place after the pinnacle passion of knowledge.

But does it have to be this way? Does there need to be such extremes? Can the worlds of knowledge and discipleship collide in such a way that each speaks a word into the other? On the long drives home from school, I pray that this “collision” of sorts would happen in my life. I dream of becoming a man whose discipleship is inescapably fueled by his academic pursuits, and whose academic pursuits are tempered by and understood entirely in the context of discipleship.

I think T. F. Torrance hits the nail on the head in this struggle to balance the two:

“The transformation of the human mind and its renewal through assimilation to the mind of Christ is something that has to go on throughout the whole of our life—it is a never-ending discipleship in repentant rethinking as we take up the cross and follow Christ. That is why we cannot be theologians without the incessant prayer in offering ourselves daily to God through the reconciling and atoning mediation of Christ; and that is also why we cannot be evangelists without being theologians whose minds are constantly schooled in obedience to Christ.”

Filed under: Life, School, Spirituality

Doing for or being with?

In two days thousands of students will arrive on campus here at Kent State. Members of our church will be creatively introducing ourselves to these students and seeking to be the church on mission during this crazy yet fun season of year. In preparation for some long days, I took a little break today to simply sit in silence, prayer, and thought before the Lord. This practice of retreating just before a busy season of ministry helps me avoid the great danger of ministry, namely doing for the Lord before simply being with Him. There is such a strong pull for church people (like me) to worship ministry rather than the God who calls us into ministry. Embedded in this temptation is a more dangerous belief that we workers own the mission and are ultimately responsible for it. I’ve been in that place before. I never want to go back.

But is it even right to say that we do ministry for the Lord? The mission belongs to God. Redemption belongs to God. The pursuit of the hurting and confused belongs to God. The maturation of the Christian belongs to God. And yet (here is the best part), he invites us to join with Him. He knows that we will never experience much of the life of Christ if we do not enlist in His work of renewal. We’ll never fully grasp Christ-likeness (what we’re called to) unless we make our mission His mission.

I don’t want a life of basking in the goodness of my own redemption. I don’t want to spend my days reminding myself that I’ve correctly understood a few basic principles of the faith that lead to my salvation. I want so much more than that. Don’t you? So, what’s the “so much more?” It’s the missio Dei, God’s ongoing work of renewing His creation and inviting humanity into the Kingdom where He reigns supreme. Here everything is different than what we see in our broken world. Some say it’s heaven on earth. Here and now. And we are asked to participate with God in bringing this reality of His reign to the world we find ourselves in. That vision I can give my life to. Can you?

This quote from Mortimer Arias, bishop of the Methodist Church in Bolivia, says it perfectly:

We need to recover the capacity to dream. The reign of God is God’s own dream, his project for his world and for humanity! He made us dreamers, and he wants us to be seduced by his dream and to dream with him.

I want to be with God so that I can join with God in His work of realigning my life and my church community’s life to His mission.

Filed under: Life, Mission

Hebrew and character formation

Spring quarter is now over. Three more classes down, way too many to list yet to go. What is both exciting and saddening is that I am now done with Hebrew coursework (after 9 months of intensive study). I recently spent time reflecting on how the study of the language of the Old Testament has influenced the formation of my character.  This is what I came up with:

What I must first affirm is that the actual exposure to the Scriptural text, oftentimes more robust in meaning in the original language, brings about a transformation that no doubt shapes character. However, equally impactful for me is how the study of Hebrew offers me a constant reminder of the great weight of handling the inspired Word of God. Since beginning this course, I have often been reminded of a few verses from the New Testament:

Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly (James 3:1 NIV).

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a workman who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth (2 Timothy 2:15 NIV).

The task of shepherding the people of God through the ministry of teaching and equipping is indeed a weighty one. So, as I engaged in the study of Hebrew, I constantly asked God to grant me a heart of deep passion and eager willingness to submit to Him. I often asked Him to allow my character to “keep pace” with what I am learning in the original language. I was reminded of how blessed I am to learn the language and now feel a nearly immediate instinct to share what I learn with others. Yet when I consider sharing with others, another instinct rises to the surface: to check where I am in my journey to know and experience the God revealed through the medium of language.

Filed under: Life, School

Giving it all away in May

Storyville Coffee is donating all its revenue in the month of May up to $1,000,000 (yes, that is one million) to International Justice Mission. IJM rescues people victimized by modern-day slavery and restores the broken public justice structures that perpetuate this atrocity. Why would they do such a thing, especially in light of our strained economy? Here is the answer they provide on their site:

“At Storyville, coffee is about a ritual that gives us time to think, create, and dream. As we dream, we think of all those who can’t.”

So here’s what you can do:

1. Go to the Storyville website linked here. 
2. Buy a half-pound of coffee for $13.99 (includes shipping to your house).
3. Forward this post to a few of your friends so they can help.

Filed under: Justice, Life

A Good Friday prayer

Here are two portions of a powerful prayer written in 1968 by the late Henri Nouwen. I pray you’d spend a few moments today reflecting on the sacrifice of Jesus for His creation and His people.

I look at your dead body on the cross. The soldiers, who have broken the legs of the two men crucified with you, do not break your legs, but one of them pierces your side with a lance, and immediately blood and water flow out. Your heart is broken, the heart that did not know hatred, revenge, resentment, jealousy or envy but only love, love so deep and so wide that it embraces your Father in heaven as well as all humanity in time and space. Your broken heart is the source of my salvation, the foundation of my hope, the cause of my love. It is the sacred place where all that was, is and ever shall be is held in unity. There all suffering has been suffered, all anguish lived, all loneliness endured, all abandonment felt and all agony cried out. There, human and divine love have kissed, and there God and all men and women of history are reconciled. All the tears of the human race have been cried there, all pain understood and all despair touched. Together with all people of all times, I look up to you whom they have pierced, and I gradually come to know what it means to be part of your body and your blood, what it means to be human.

As I look, my eyes begin to recognize the anguish and agony of all the people for whom you gave yourself. Your broken heart becomes the heart of all of humanity, the heart of all the world. You carry them all: abandoned children, rejected wives and husbands, broken families, the homeless, refugees, prisoners, the maimed and tortured, and the thousands, yes millions, who are unloved, forgotten and left alone to die. I see their emaciated bodies, their despairing faces, their anguished looks. I see them all there, where your body is pierced and your heart is ripped apart. O compassionate Lord, your heart is broken because of all the love that is not given or received.

Filed under: Life