Life as a House

When the Bible describes the heart, it is a veritable enigma. We harden it. God hardens it. It can be full of faith. It can be full of folly. It can be sad. It can be glad. It's the point of origin of all our words and actions. When you search it, who knows what you'll find? 

My heart is a lot like a house. Sometimes I hide stuff under the bed. Sometimes I let dishes pile up. Sometimes I go on a cleaning rampage and my hands smell like Comet for a week afterward. Sometimes I let people in. Sometimes I shut them out. It's a complicated place, which is why I often don't go there. That's why I ignore the piles of garbage, keep people out, close the doors of the rooms I don't like and look anywhere and everywhere for escape. The heart can be a desperately wicked place—so in a way, the fear is understandable. 

This house of mine is a fixer-upper, to be sure, but there's hope for it. A few months ago, as I was reading one of the best books I've ever read, I gained some new insight into this heart.

Do you remember the story of the Exodus? Think back—way back—to those felt boards from Sunday School (try to ignore the sudden impulse to eat graham crackers as you do). Or, if your Sunday School was in the church of pop culture like it was for me, think back to the The Ten Commandments (barring the grievous historical inaccuracies and Charlton Heston's terrible excuse of a fake beard, of course). And if you were born in the '90's, think back to Prince of Egypt (I guess). What each of these avenues was trying to tell you—to varying degrees of success and with varied intentions—was the story of God's redemption, the story of how God has chosen to respond to the human heart and the hot mess that it is. 

Quick recap. God's chosen people (the Israelites) are in bondage, slaves in Egypt. God promises to rescue them from slavery and bring them freedom. In the process, God sends plagues and afflictions to the Egyptians to expose the futility of specific Egyptian gods and convince—well, everyone—that the God of Israel is the One True God and that Pharaoh should probably let God's people go free. The final plague, however, is a little different. The final plague did not only bear consequences for the Egyptians; it applied to Israel, too.

God told Moses that he would take the lives of all the firstborn in the land—the very hope of life and legacy—unless the blood of a spotless, perfect lamb was applied to the doorposts of their homes, which signified trust, belief and ascent to what God had said. At midnight, God made good on his promise; houses without the blood received the forewarned consequence and he 'passed over' the homes with blood applied. This was the first Passover. 

What Mike Wilkerson (author of one of the best books I've ever read) points out about our interpretation of this event is that we are quick to assume, even without knowing it, that God's judgment is indicative of the fact that the Egyptians were the 'bad' guys and the Israelites were the 'good' guys. Of course God would spare his people, right? Yes, he would spare his people, but not because they were so great. At all.

If you were to compare the homes of the Egyptians to the homes of the Israelites at that time in history, you'd find more similarities than differences. You'd find families sleeping, waking up grumpy, working, relaxing, eating, making messes, cleaning up messes, fighting, having similar conversations. You'd find keepsakes, valuables, parts of their homes that were an embarrassment, parts that were a source of pride. You would also find idols, both physical and figurative. You would find hearts actively putting more trust in things that are created rather than in the Creator. If there is something that is clear in the whole of scripture, it's that God alone is worthy of worship and he does not share his glory with anything or anyone else. 

The point is, the only thing that compelled God to have mercy on the Israelites on the night of the Passover was the blood on their doorposts. That was it. God knew what was in their homes. He knew what was in their hearts. He knew it all and—because they were covered in the redemption he offered them—he spared them. They were his people. He was their God. And he dwelled with them. 

So it is with us, with me. God knows what is in my heart. He sees the idols I keep safe. He sees the messes I don't want to clean up. He knows my every avoidance tactic. Yet, he still sets his affection on me. He still sent Jesus to be my pure, spotless lamb—the eternal and only sufficient sacrifice for my great sin—to do more than cover my doorposts. He covers and invades every corner of me with his forgiveness and redemption. Jesus—who he is and what he does—is the ultimate Passover. He knew what was in my house, but he still chose to commit to me, move in and dwell with me. He deals tenderly with me, but he also makes war against the trophies of pride on my walls and the cobwebby, dusty corners of unbelief and the dark closets of shame. 

Your house is a fixer-upper, too. And there's hope for your redemption and renovation. Stop running, avoiding and hiding. Pull up a chair to the dining room table, sit across from your savior Jesus and talk. It's a start.

"Lord, you know that this house is filled with sin and yet you still choose to live there. You know the gluttony in the kitchen. You know the self-numbing and avoidance in the living room. You walk by the trophies of self-reliance and pride adorning the walls every day. You have to look at the pictures of my other lovers on the walls. You know what kind of stuff is still in darkness—compartmentalized, boxed and buried—in the basement. And yet you choose to live there. Here. With me. In me." —Journal Entry, January 31, 2012

I Asked the Lord

1. I asked the Lord that I might grow

In faith and love and every grace
Might more of His salvation know
And seek more earnestly His face

2. T'was He who taught me thus to pray
And He I trust has answered prayer
But it has been in such a way
As almost drove me to despair

3. I hoped that in some favored hour
At once He'd answer my request
And by His love's constraining power
Subdue my sins and give me rest

4. Instead of this He made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart
And let the angry powers of Hell
Assault my soul in every part

5. Yea more with His own hand He seemed
Intent to aggravate my woe
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed,
Cast out my feelings, laid me low

6. Lord why is this, I trembling cried
Wilt Thou pursue thy worm to death?
"Tis in this way" The Lord replied
"I answer prayer for grace and faith"

7. "These inward trials I employ
From self and pride to set thee free
And break thy schemes of earthly joy
That thou mayest seek thy all in me,
That thou mayest seek thy all in me."

Exprayeriment.

Today, I decided to try an experiment. Of prayer. An exprayeriment. (I also can't resist making entirely ridiculous words out of existing ones.)

Although I "know" I have a loving Father who desires to give good gifts to his children, has kind intentions toward me and a future vision for my life that is more beautiful, more glorious than anything I could conjure up, I don't ever ask him for anything.

It can be traced back to a lot of things... a lot of distortions. Unbelief in who the Father is and who I am as his daughter, because of the work of Jesus. Maybe you've recited the same dialogue I have:

• To admit I want or need something reveals that I lack the ability or ingenuity to get it for myself.
• My desires are probably dumb... probably wrong... probably not good for me and rooted in selfish motives anyway. I don't want God to think I'm foolish and selfish... and I definitely don't want to be wrong.
• What if the answer is "no"? Can I handle the disappointment? 

There's a lot wrong with all of those statements. Ha. We'll get to that rat's nest in a minute.

But first, I want to look at what kinds of prayers those beliefs produce. The prayers that proceed from this distorted heart are aloof, hovering above the surface but never plunging the depths. Very stoic, vague. Not at all vulnerable. Never expectant. Have a semblance of godliness but lacking its power. They're safe, highly prefaced prayers... full of excuses and loopholes through which to escape from taking ownership. They don't take a stand on anything, bank on anything, lean on anyone. They're faithless. They're nothing but the echoes of a white-washed tomb. 

Now, the rat's nest. There are two sides to it. First, I do lack the ingenuity and ability to get my wants and needs. I do have selfish motives. I am foolish. I often don't know what's good for me. I do often ask for stones thinking that they're bread. But what is equally and even surpassingly true is that I have a Father who loves me. He loves me. And he wants to walk with me through these things. He doesn't want me to be aloof and pretend that these things are not true... he wants to walk alongside me in spite of my shortcomings and inabilities. He wants to gently discipline me, as a good Father does, to desire the things that are good. On the other side, I do have holy desires. I do desire things that are truly good. I do want things that would please him. He hears that, too! And if he doesn't fulfill these wants, I don't have to fear disappointment. I am not alone in it. He has his reasons for giving, for taking away, for deferring dreams, for waiting... and I can trust him. The question is, then, do I want to relinquish control of the outcome? Do I want to give up my meddling? Do I want to surrender to him and let him accomplish what he would intend, even if it's not what I want? Good questions. 

The truth is, you have to start somewhere. And I will often choose to not begin the journey at all, it's too hard. But your heart is not going to change overnight and it is certainly not going to change by praying the prayers you think you ought to pray, the ones that "sound holy." If prayer is anything, it is honest. It is not pretty, it is often messy. It is more undignified than it is calm, cool and collected. Look at the prayers of Hannah (who was thought to be drunk because she poured out her heart before the Lord so earnestly), of David (who, if anything, didn't shy away from prayers that didn't "sound holy"), and even of Jesus himself... I don't think any of us could say that their vexation, despair or anxiety was unwarranted or that the Father was disappointed in them for praying in angst. Quite the opposite, in fact. Read up. See how the Father works with his children and turns mourning into dancing, fear into faith. It's beautiful and it's truth.

As a daughter of the Heavenly Father, my prayers are met with the same kind, loving, listening ear. I can pour out my heart—and exactly what's on it and in it—without fear of rejection. I can be mad. I can be sad. I can be scared. I can tell him exactly what I want. I can use names. I can be specific. And he will listen. He will answer. And he will change my heart along the way. 

This morning, I exprayerimented. I asked for things. I told him what I wanted. I hold him how I was feeling. I poured out my heart exactly how it was... and what happened was beautiful. But I won't tell you what happened because I want you to find out for yourself. 

"If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways." —James 1:5-8

The Buck Doesn't Stop Here.

Last week, we talked about financial giving at Living Stones. We talk about it quite a bit (and with good reason). Jesus addresses our heart's affections toward money more than any other topic, which should give us plenty of motivation to take a good, hard look at where we're storing up treasure.

Here are some hypotheticals. Spending a lot of money on entertainment? Maybe you worship comfort or look to it as an escape from your less-than-ideal reality. Are you just one swipe away from maxing out another credit card in order to furnish your wardrobe? Hmm. Could be vanity, could be insecurity, could be keeping up appearances. Sending a bunch of your Abe Lincolns, George Washingtons and Andrew Jacksons to restaurants, maybe multiple times a day? Maybe there's some laziness to address or opulence to confront.

Again, those are hypotheticals. But the principal remains: you put your money where your heart is. Pretty straightforward. God, however, even with the most talked-about topics, never stops unfolding deeper layers, uncovering what isn't readily visible. True to form, he opened my eyes to things I hadn't thought about as I listened to the sermon and as I continue to mull it over this week. See how the apostle John describes the kind of giving that goes on in heaven:

"...the twenty-four elders fall down before him who is seated on the throne and worship him who lives forever and ever. They cast their crowns before the throne, saying, 'Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created.'" —Revelation 4:10-11

Never before have I recognized how giving is truly an eternal activity. The buck really doesn't stop here. We don't make sacrifices—financial or otherwise—now and look forward to a day when we won't have to anymore. We give now because we're never going to stop giving! In giving, we're engaging in the very activity that we'll be doing for eternity... joyfully laying down all we are and all we have in praise of a very worthy God. 

Does this sound like heaven to you? Always giving, always praising? If this doesn't sound good now, will it sound good to you when the time comes? If it doesn't sound good to us now, when will it sound good? Ever? Our view of who God is and what he's done for us is too often too small. He is completely and utterly worthy of all we have and are. When will the day come that we (and I) realize that? The pattern of heaven giving and praising, not hoarding and getting and keeping and gaining. The pattern of hell is all self, all the time. What's the pattern of your life? What's the pattern of mine?

Giving it Away: Notes from the A29 Bootcamp | Part 2

Matt Chandler from The Village Church in Texas delivered the Word in the second session of the A29 Bootcamp. It was kind of nostalgic, in a way. I first heard him at Catalyst in October 2007. He was the "Token Reformed Guy"—haha. Crazy to think it’s been 4 years already! Since then, I’ve been an avid listener to The Village Church’s podcast and am consistently rocked and moved by the Holy Spirit through Chandler’s preaching. It was a particular joy and honor to experience this in person again.

What I appreciated most about Chandler was the fact that his stance was rooted in the present. He didn’t draw from wells of the past or potential wells of the future. He drew from his current experience in preaching the gospel to his flock. Don’t get me wrong! I’m not saying stored wisdom is a bad thing—it’s a very good thing, a treasured thing—but the fact that he specifically shared what God has been doing in the here and now made his teaching so much more relevant. This said so much to me without him having to say anything. This example served as a much-needed reminder to draw on the Triune God—our Living Water, the Giver of daily bread, our ever-present Helper—today. As I was with D.A. Carson, I was again admonished that yesterday’s insights are not nearly enough. This walk with Christ is not just meant to be comprised of past stories and future glories. It’s meant to be a daily, effectual, gracious abiding in and with our Savior. This is the hope of glory.

Chandler’s recent experience in the pulpit (preaching through Habakkuk) has driven him to desire a reawakening of gospel-centered preaching/teaching through the Old Testament. Heck yes! It’s a joy to see our Savior woven through the whole of the scriptures, and this joy is compounded as we learn more effective ways to behold him and lead others to do the same. Below are 7 approaches to preaching Christ in the Old Testament:

1. Redemptive, Historical Progression: The Bible is not about you. Stop trying to insert yourself where you and your people do not belong! Take, for example, the story of David and Goliath. You are not David. Your trials are not Goliath. David’s role is to point to Jesus and his redemptive, victorious work in the cross and resurrection. If anything, we’re the scared Israelites fleeing in unbelief who are in need of the Better David to rescue us. We are far too eager to be the heroes of every story, aren’t we? When teaching the OT to your people, rid yourself of this pride and just point to Jesus and the ways that his redemptive work is expounded.
2. Promise Fulfillment: Highlight passages that Jesus specifically fulfills in his person and work (e.g. Isaiah 51, Ezekiel 36, Jeremiah 2, Genesis 3 & 12).
3. Typology: This is where most people tend to camp out, probably because it’s the easiest of these 7 approaches. This is the focus on OT events (e.g. Passover, Exodus) and people (e.g. Boaz, Joshua, etc.) who foreshadow Christ. 
4. Analogy: Look for parallels between OT and NT teaching. For instance, where the wisdom in Proverbs overlaps with Jesus’ or his apostles’ teachings.
5. Longitudinal Themes: Look for themes that soar across the two hemispheres of scripture, from Genesis to Revelation. For example, how the “fear of God” is threaded throughout the Bible from beginning to end, how Jesus is the final word and completion of this theme. 
6. NT References: Look for instances in which Jesus or one of the apostles quotes OT passages (e.g. Isaiah 61... “this has been fulfilled in your hearing”). 
7. Jesus Always Shows Up: The Old Testament is riddled with statements that cry for a Savior. What kind of teachers would we be if we didn’t answer these cries with the gospel? Chandler gives this example from Ecclesiastes and 1 Corinthians. While Ecclesiastes resoundingly states that your “toil is in vain,” 1 Corinthians gives an even stronger rebuttal, “your toil is not in vain”... because of Jesus. Look for the hunger for Jesus, the longing, the waiting in the OT—and allow Jesus to show up in power and glory. 

If you're looking for more resources on this, they are abundant. Check out the Gospel Coalition or The Resurgence, for starters. Here's killer Keller article on the subject. 

Printmaking at the Holland Project

I love learning new things.

Paid a visit to The Holland Project today (a local cooperative of artists) for their free printmaking workshop. The emphasis was on printmaking without a press, which makes it a form accessible to many, cost effective and full of creative potential.

We started by discussing various forms of printmaking, including lots of things I hadn't considered to be part of the genre—like stenciling. Who knew? So diverse! I think the best part is that it's a vehicle that doesn't discriminate. It favors both the practical (e.g. home decor, scrapbooking... anything "crafty") and the philosophical (e.g. "high art")—and kinda marries the two. Very cool.

The two forms we used today were Sun Printing and Solvent Printing. Word to the wise... when you do Solvent Printing, make sure you're in a well-ventilated area. Otherwise... yikes.

Here's a quick breakdown of each:

Sun Printing—

• Basically, it's a photographic process in which you expose treated paper to light while covering the areas you would like to protect from the chemical transformation. You can use any object with some degree of opacity (like a transparency with something printed on it, an object, etc.) to block the light and create the shape you want. We used the cyanotype method, which is the most common.
• You'll need: a light source, sun printing paper (available at most craft/art stores, objects, a sheet of glass (optional)
• Once you get your paper (don't take it out of the bag until you're ready to use it), arrange your objects over top holding them in place with a sheet of glass if you want precise edges. If you'd like to play with shadows and edges, forgo using the glass and manipulate the objects during the exposure process. Expose the paper until it turns almost white, it takes a few minutes (although overexposing—like, for several days—can create some cool effects, too). Remove it from your light source and run it under cold water until the image inverts to set it (blue becomes white and vice-versa). 

Before...

...and after.

Solvent Printing—

• This process is mega-cool. You take a xerox copy, a absorbent surface such as paper or wood (even canvas to an extent, as long as it's not gessoed or the gesso is about 99% dry and still slightly tacky), and use solvent to transfer the image from the original xerox copy to your new surface. Such a neat way to achieve rustic looking design. 
• You'll need: Xerox copies (won't work with copies from an inkjet printer—you need something very toner heavy and high contrast), an absorbent surface (other paper, wood, fabric), a solvent to release the toner from the original image (Goof Off, a Colorless Blender or—get this—Wintergreen Oil), and a dry rag. 
• Lay down the xerox image onto your surface, ink side down, and tape in place if necessary (if the image moves, you won't get an accurate transfer... which could be cool if intentional). Take your solvent and sparingly wet the area over the ink you want to transfer. You don't need a lot of solvent—it's really the pressure you apply that does the heavy lifting here. Take your rag and rub over the surface, pressing hard. Continue this until the solvent appears to dry. Lift the xerox and... ta-da! There you go.
• Overlapping images can be tricky. If you do one transfer and then another over top, the original might not survive.
• One xerox copy is good for one transfer. They can't really be used multiple times.
• Different solvents have different effects. A color blender will give you an accurate transfer with little to no mess. Goof Off will make things a little more unpredictable, but often produces cool results you wouldn't anticipate. Wintergreen Oil is the least effective, but natural. It's good for a rustic, decaying, vintagey-type look.

Animals + Americana = Animericana

Okay, there you have it. Please try this at home. And The Holland Project does these free workshops every month... so come to one if you're around!

Giving it Away: Notes from the A29 Bootcamp | Part 1

"You preserve the gospel by giving it away." —D.A. Carson

These were the final words of D.A. Carson’s session titled ‘Preserving the Gospel’ and were the words that have been imprinted on my heart and resonating through my mind since then. In the same spirit, I hope to preserve all of the things that God spoke to me during the Acts 29 Bootcamp by approaching them with a generous heart. I undeservedly received the gospel and I don’t want to walk through its implications unwittingly. As a grateful beggar telling other beggars where to find bread (another Carson quote, ha!), I offer all of this to you. I’m not the best note-taker in the universe, but whatever I have is yours.

Better still, Acts 29 will be posting the audio/video from this bootcamp. Whatever they have is yours, too. 

This first blog is from the first session at the Bootcamp: "Gospel Transformation" presented by D.A. Carson. Please feel free to comment and question—this stuff is best fleshed out in community!

__________

It goes without saying (or at least it should): there is no gospel-centered church planter, no gospel-centered mission, no gospel-centered anything apart from gospel transformation. I have to let myself sit there for a minute. Nothing that I write is relevant at all apart from the fact that I have been transformed. None of this information will amount to anything in my life or yours unless we have undergone transformation, utterly and entirely. My biggest fear in arriving, experiencing, departing and now processing this past weekend is that I will have heard much but not known much... learned much but not loved much... affirmed much but not believed much. It is fitting that Carson decided to start here—because without being born again, we will never live.

Carson exegetes with swift, exacting, ninja-like precision. Driscoll is right to call him yoda-smart. Plus, he’s Canadian—and I will always have a special affinity for all things Canada. But beyond this—as one of his colleagues put it—he has a gracious heart. It was an honor to sit under a teacher whose obvious gifts are so obviously submitted to Christ and saturated by grace. 

Overall, I was struck by the way that Carson did not shy away from the heavy lifting in this passage. Consequently, I was admonished to put down my own 5 pound weights start doing some bench pressing. What I mean when I say “heavy lifting” is this. Carson took the time to carefully connect the dots of Jesus’ statements in order to paint the whole picture—he didn’t settle for a kitschy motel portrait of Jesus as sage. Sometimes, when I read Jesus words, I settle. I settle for yesterday’s insights, trying to be satisfied by yesterday’s bread, only to be left emaciated. I hopscotch from verse to verse without looking to see how each one builds upon the last. I say this to my shame. Rather than doing the work of connecting the dots, pleading with the Spirit to give me wisdom on how Jesus’ thoughts come together to form the whole, I just get lazy. I’m glad to have been shaken from sleep and humbled that I’m forgiven for this—now to stay awake, by grace.

There were some key points for me in this session. One, that we need new life—not new laws. Nicodemus, in his great presumption, was looking to Jesus as just another teacher, as another doer, not as a savior. To this, Jesus seems to say, “Nicodemus, you don’t need me to teach you. You can’t bear the weight of the law you do have, let alone any other that I could heap on you. You need me to redeem you, to give you new birth, to give you a new beginning that will never end. You think you see and understand, but you do not... because your heart is unbelieving. You ask how a man can be born again, even when he is old. Do you not know that the new birth I offer is real? You can be made new, despite all the baggage, sin and cynicism that accompanies adulthood. You can start over.” Two, that we can only look to the solution that God has provided for salvation. Jesus likens himself to the serpent lifted up in the wilderness, which is—humanly speaking—an unlikely candidate for salvation. Who fights a serpent by looking at a fake serpent? Who conquers death with death? The Father’s wisdom is so far beyond our own. Look to and believe in no other solution for your sin and death other than the one given by the Father.