History of Time from 30,000 Feet

I apologize for not posting in the past few months. I had writer's block for most of the summer. But now my seminary classes have begun, and I am trying desperately to take in more information than I can hope to process. This blog may become my outlet to bring coherence out of my time here.

One of my classes is a church history course and our 3-hour block this week was like nothing I have ever experienced academically. What I am going to share in this post is from Dr. Gwenfair Adams' material on the theology of church history. I'm not sure if she has published it yet, but I will post a link to it if I can find one. And for full academic integrity, I should also mentioned that the terms and structure discussed come from Robert McKee's Story Seminar.

As an introduction to studying history, Dr. Adams gave us an overview of time. The Bible gives us the entire story outline, from God's creation to Jesus' return. What Dr. Adams discovered in McKee's Story Seminar is that, like other great stories throughout history and across cultures, the Bible follows a very particular outline.

All stories have a protagonist. A catalytic event interrupts life as he knows it, sending him on a quest for a desired object (or a person, goal, etc.). There is opposition throughout the quest, leading to the climax at the end of the line, where there is no other option but to take the greatest risk possible. In this, the story reveals the character of the protagonist and the strength of his desire for the object he seeks.

As I listened to the lecture, I realized

God is the Protagonist.

We are the Desired Object.

The entire history of our world is about God pursuing us. This sounds prideful or self-centered unless one has realized how much greater God is than we are: his holiness next to our sin, his power compared with our weakness, his glory opposed to our shame. Within this revelation of who he is and who we are, it becomes humbling that he would initiate relationship with us, that he would desire that which is so often undesirable.

In all the Braveheart metaphors and sermons based on Lord of the Rings that I've heard, it's easy for me to think that I'm supposed to be the hero, that my life with Christ should be a dramatic, movie-worthy quest. But in zooming out to look at the full story, I see that the climax already happened on the Cross. Though my own role in the story is valuable, it is really just a small piece. The protagonist is the one who gets all the glory and the fame, and that is God himself.

Books I'm Reading: The Unlikely Disciple

As summer wrapped up, I realized that I did not do nearly as much reading as I intended. This is a yearly occurrence of guilt that is mostly caused by unrealistic expectations.

I finished Kevin Roose's The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University right before moving back east. Loved it. Absolutely loved it. Roose, a student at Brown University, spent a semester at Liberty University as a sophomore to discover the world of evangelicals. It wasn't "gotcha" journalism, or a scheme to prove a point of view that he already held. He just realized that there was a whole group inAmerican society that he had never interacted with and decided to try to learn more.

What I appreciated about the book was its fairness and willingness to handle complexity. Roose made friends with a number of Liberty students and grew in respect for them. Some of what would be considered crazy by his friends and family started to make more sense, or seem more rational when allowing for certain premises. At the same time, there were aspects of the Christian faith propagated at the school that made him angry. He was able to express both of those views, resisting the urge to tie the book up into too neat a package.

Personally, the topics covered in the book fascinate me: the intersection of faith and politics, the human side of oft-caricatured fundamentalists, and the perception by non-Christians of what's normal to many who grew up in the church. The book is also written incredibly well. Roose utilizes humor, suspense, and empathy in telling his story. It's one that's definitely worth reading.

If you heed the word of Mortimer Adler...

Though I tend to mock Mortimer Adler's classic work, I agree with him that reading a book multiple times is the way to go. The first time I read something, I want to know how it ends, or what the author's overall point is. I don't want to form an opinion with partial information or waste time on the unimportant. Once that suspense is over, I can read the book again, taking my time to enjoy the writing and picking up on more subtle details. This especially applies for me when I read fiction, but I think it can apply to the Bible too. The smaller pieces make more sense when you have a sense of the overall work. When you see how the story is moving, you can pick up on the symbolism and imagery forshadowing what's to come. You're also less likely to misinterpret individual verses. Just a thought.

Not Yet What You Will Be

The Life You've Always Wanted is one of those books that I continually go back to. And yet, I don't think I've ever read the entire thing. My problem is that I always start at the beginning, at the chapter entitled, "We Shall Morph Indeed." It's about transformation, an idea and a concept that I can never quite wrap my mind around.

It's the idea of change that I can't manufacture on my own, that I can't work hard enough to attain. It's the positive alteration of who I am, not just what I do. And I'm still not sure how it happens.

In the book, John Ortberg describes Moses' encounter with God at the burning bush in the wilderness. God calls Moses to lead Israel and he says he isn't capable enough. In Ortberg's paraphrase, this is God's response:

"It doesn't really matter much. For I will be with you. Your guilt and your inadequacies are no longer the ultimate truth about you. You are what you are--but that's not all that you are. You are what you are, but you are not yet what you will be. I will be with you."

Ortberg calls this the hope of transformation. The hope that our jealous thoughts, petty actions, and selfish desires will not always be with us.

Paul describes it in Romans 7:24-25, "What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God--through Jesus Christ our Lord!" We have to come to this place first, recognizing our inability to be who we feel we could or should be.

While I've been praying about some deeper issues in my heart, the song I've had on repeat is Steph Modder's "Hope's Got Me" which you can actually download for free on her website.

Hope's got me
wrapped so tightly
this is not the end
I'm ready to begin again

I heard about a college student who was asked if he was a Christian. He said no, he was becoming a Christian. He believed that identifying with Christ was a big deal, something to pursue, but not check off a list. We position ourselves and wait to be transformed, to be changed by God himself, to be shaped into the image of his son. We wait and hope for what is beyond us.

The Weight of Necessity

"Remember your Creator during your youth: when all possibilities lie open before you and you can offer all your strength intact for his service. The time to remember is not after you become senile and paralyzed! Then it is not too late for your salvation, but too late for you to serve as the presence of God in the midst of the world and the creation. You must take sides earlier--when you can actually make choices, when you have many paths opening at your feet, before the weight of necessity overwhelms you." --Jacques Ellul on Ecclesiastes 12

One of my personal assignments recently was to create a life mission statement. To facilitate this, I planned to spend a full day with God, looking over old journal entries and things that have really sparked something in my heart. Despite my excitement about doing it, it was still hard to schedule the time.

What struck me this quote from Jacques Ellul was the sense of urgency in deciding where to put our strength. There are a million little things that I could do this week. Many of them are very important and need to get done. But are they taking me in the right direction? Have I stepped back and spent time listening to God, asking what His purpose is for me? Or are my actions always a response to the expectations and demands of others?

Holy Week

I love Easter. It's a really special time for me personally. That may seem like a given, considering that I'm a Christian, but for the first 21 years I spent going to church, Easter didn't really mean that much to me. In all honesty, it seemed like one of the more boring church services of the year because I thought the sermons covered material that I had moved beyond.

But my senior year of college, I screwed up more than I thought was possible and felt more conviction from the Holy Spirit than I ever had in my life. Through that God taught me about His grace and forgiveness, the message of the gospel that I had missed despite my attendance at thousands of church services. And as if the gift of experiencing the Cross wasn't enough, I learned these lessons leading up to the calendar celebration of when Jesus made His sacrifice for me. I like having that personal anniversary that I can celebrate within the community of faith.

The pastor I heard speak last night challenged us to give up something during Holy Week--something that's not necessarily wrong, but might dull our sensitivity to what God is saying. So I'm going to cut back on my television watching (sorry Gilmore Girls). I didn't do so well today because of a headache, but that's my goal for the week. Hopefully putting it on this blog will help me stick to it. I like the idea of intentionally pressing into God during Holy Week. That might not seem revolutionary to those who are used to following the church calendar, but it's something different for this low-church girl.

Books I'm Reading: Connecting

I am seriously excited about this book. There have been few things I've read where I felt every concept either affirmed the desires in my heart, resonated with my past experiences, or challenged me towards action in an area I'm passionate about. The book is Connecting: The Mentoring Relationships You Need to Succeed in Life by Paul D. Stanley and Dr. J. Robert Clinton.

The focus of the book is a breakdown of mentoring relationships: intensive, occasional, and passive (these are not mentors who don't seem to care, but rather, contemporary and historical figures who provide an example to follow instead of one-on-one time with a mentoree). There are eight types of mentors within the three categories. It was very helpful to see that mentoring can look different depending on people's needs and seasons of life. I hate cookie-cutter discipleship because it lacks authenticity and flexibility. God creates unique individuals who have vastly different experiences in life. Having different types of mentors is just one part of a framework that allows for individuality in the discipleship process.

The authors really made me think more about the relationships in my life. As part of my job, I have the privilege of mentoring others in various ways. But I think I need to examine my relationships with those mentoring me, as well as my close friendships. After graduating college and beginning full-time ministry, my proximity to and availability for these relationships shifted. I've had a harder time fitting them into the structure of my life.

The authors really emphasize that mentoring is critical for everyone, but especially those in ministry. I really appreciated that. I don't know if this is intentional or not, but sometimes it seems like there's a message that once you're in ministry, you can handle yourself or at least should be able to get it together. Stanley and Clinton blame this mindset for the number of leadership failures in the church:

"In our studies of leaders, we can clearly conclude with few exceptions that those who experienced anointed ministry and finished well had a significant network of meaningful relationships that inspired, challenged, listened, pursued, developed, and held one another accountable."

Becoming one of those leaders will take a consistent, intentional commitment to finding and maintaining these relationships. So grateful to these authors for the encouragement toward that goal.

(Random note: I also really like their use of the term "mentoree" instead of the more commonly used "mentee." Though spellcheck does not recognize either word, mentoree makes more sense.)

Prayer

I pray better when I'm sitting on the floor of my room. I have no idea why, but it helps me focus and be more honest with God. Pacing used to help, but now I get distracted by things I need to clean, reorganize, put away, etc. Kind of random, but I thought I would share.

Task Mode

Mark Batterson referenced this passage on his blog and it really it me hard this week.

"How did your new life begin? Was it by working your heads off to please God? Or was it by responding to God's message to you? Are you going to continue this craziness? For only crazy people would think they could complete by their own efforts what was begun by God. If you weren't smart enough or strong enough to begin it, how do you suppose you could perfect it?" --Galatians 3, The Message

I know that Paul is talking about living by the law and earning salvation, which I know I can't do. But as I work in ministry, I think I start trying to earn salvation or spiritual growth for other people. I forget that other people need God to work in them just like he did in me, that those experiences can't be manufactured or worked up.

This has been the hardest lesson for me to learn in DC. When I get busy, I go into task mode and start making lists of everything I need to accomplish. The tasks become the only thing I can see. And I forget what Jesus says in John 15:5, "Apart from me you can do nothing." That's one of the hardest verses in the Bible for me to believe, but one of the most important. Everything always seems to come back to whether I'm connecting with God or trying to do things on my own.

Life-Long Learning

"We have observed that most people cease learning by the age of forty. By that we mean they no longer actively pursue knowledge, understanding, and experience that will enhance their capacity to grow and contribute to others." --Paul D. Stanley and J. Robert Clinton

My grandparents on my mother's side are an exception to this statement. Despite being in their nineties, they have embraced the age of the Internet. They made a choice to learn something new, even if it meant stepping out of their comfort zone. I'm able to communicate with them more easily because they use email.

They also love to read. Whenever I visit them, I like to ask what they are reading because they have great recommendations. My grandma's eyes light up as she tells me about the story of a mountain climber who built schools all over Pakistan, or an American woman who married the king of Jordan. She's fascinated by their lives and I have many books on my shelf because of her enthusiasm for them.

But she and my grandpa seem just as fascinated by things that might seem normal or mundane. They've traveled all over the world--they even went white water rafting through the Grand Canyon in their eighties. But the stories they bring back aren't just about the incredible things they've seen. They always have something to say about the people they met on the cruise ship or at dinner, some friendship that was forged because they were interested in someone else's story.

My favorite memories with them are the times I got to listen to who they met or what they've been learning. They are definitely my role models for what it looks like to be a life-long learner.

Longing for Something Better

I was at a conference last weekend and heard Alicia Chole speak on Anonymous, which I had read a mere five days before. While initially disappointed, I later realized the benefit of having an altar call in between the chapters. The experience made me process the material in a way that I hadn't just by reading it. The area that hit me most was that of self-control. When Jesus was tempted to turn stones into bread, he had the self-control to obey the Father even though he had a legitimate need--hunger.

We often use our feelings and desires to justify why we should have something. Watching movies makes me happy, so there's no reason why I should give them up. This is my favorite kind of food, so the satisfaction I receive from eating it overrules it's unhealthiness. Surely I wouldn't naturally crave something that's bad for me.

Last week, I ate at Chick-fil-A for the first time in months and it made me ridiculously happy. I love the waffle fries and the chicken nuggets, and a smile came to my face as I once again experienced the glories of that particular fast food. Later I realized that my enjoyment of it, even my craving of it, had absolutely no impact on its nutritional value. Through continual intake of fast food, I have built up an appetite for it, but that doesn't mean satisfying that appetite is good for me.

Elisabeth Elliot takes this concept into a whole different arena--the desire to get married. In Passion and Purity, she writes, "My heart was saying, 'Lord, take away this longing, or give me that for which I long.' The Lord was answering, 'I must teach you to long for something better.'"

I must teach you to long for something better.

How do we change our appetites? Looking back at the food example, my only idea is self-control. If I start choosing to eat what I know if good for me, i.e., following truth instead of my feelings, I will eventually change what I crave. Perhaps the more we choose to look at Jesus, the more we'll realize that nothing else can possibly compare.

Books I'm Reading: Stripped

After spending two years on my Amazon wish list, Stripped: Uncensored Grace on the Streets of Vegas finally made it into my hands (this was actually due to the wonderful services of Paperbackswap.com, but that's a post for another time). The author of Stripped is Jud Wilhite, pastor of Central Christian Church in Las Vegas, and the book is mostly a snapshot of his congregation. He tells the stories of exotic dancers, an American Idol contestant, a homeless man, various addicts, a cop, and an Elvis impersonator who jumps out of planes. It's a compelling compilation that shows how God's grace can find all of us and how a community of faith can be a place where people can come before they are perfect or certain of their beliefs.

"Uncensored grace is what you get from a loving God when all the religious types have gone home, and every last hope for your own effort has blown up in your face."

Hobbit Friendship

I love Lord of the Rings, in both book and movie form. And I have a special fondness for hobbits. I think it's because they eat so many meals a day and it makes me a little jealous. But I found this exchange in The Fellowship of the Ring and thought it was worth sharing:

"But it does not seem that I can trust anyone," said Frodo.
Sam looked at him unhappily. "It all depends on what you want," put in Merry. "You can trust us to stick to you through thick and think--to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours--closer than you keep it yourself. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word. We are your friends, Frodo."

New Music on a Budget

I have a growing love for NoiseTrade.com. The website was created by Derek Webb of Caedmon's Call so that artists could distribute their music to fans at a lower cost. To get music from the site, you either pay whatever you want to for it, or give Noise Trade the email addresses of five friends to spread the word about the artist. Some Matthew Perryman Jones and Katie Herzig were two of my favorite finds from this source. The same music doesn't stay available on Noise Trade forever, so you can keep checking back for new stuff that's available.

Books I'm Reading: Anonymous

I just finished Alica Britt Chole's book Anonymous: Jesus' Hidden Years... and Yours. I'm a big fan of Alicia Chole and am pretty excited to hear her speak in person this weekend at a conference in Williamsburg. Anonymous focuses on the value of seasons in our lives where we feel hidden, unrecognized or unproductive. The book has a really good balance of Biblical study and personal reflection. She has some especially great insights on the temptation of Jesus. But I really appreciated how she summed it all up by talking about the importance of obedience. If Jesus, who was God, submitted his will to the Father's, how much more should we do the same?

Some other highlights:
"Whatever we feed will live to tempt us another day."

"When we feel underestimated or unseen in real life, it is tempting to live out scenarios that make us feel wanted and recognized in our thought life. In seasons where we question our value, we can all too easily create--and frequently visit--an alternative version of life in our minds. Though such thoughts provide temporary color to what we perceive to be an otherwise dull existence, they are still an investment in untruth."

"Satan asked Jesus to trade the eternal for the visible, which is something he still invites us to do every day."

"During his uncelebrated anonymous season, a quiet reserve had been building within Jesus where he savored God's sweet fellowship undistracted by whatever circumstances happened to surround him."

More Thoughts on Solitude

I've always connected the spiritual disciplines of silence and solitude, associating them with being alone in a room, perhaps with the mental image of a monastery. But Richard Foster describes solitude as inner fulfillment or having a "portable sanctuary of the heart." In The Celebration of Discipline, he argues that "if we possess inward solitude we do not fear being alone, for we know that we are not alone. Neither do we fear being with others, for they do not control us. In the midst of noise and confusion we are settled into a deep inner silence." Maybe solitude is about being settled in yourself, inwardly listening for the voice of the Father while everything else clamors for your attention.

We tend to be uncomfortable with silence. Even in seeking God, we often feel better if there’s a worship song on in the background. Can we have a response time after a sermon without someone telling us what to sing or what to pray? If left to ourselves, what sound would come from our hearts? This is a question that must be answered in we are to live as Christ in the middle of the world, for we will often be in situations where there are no worship songs, no preacher or mentor telling us what to say or what to think. Does your heart yearn for God when nobody else is around?

Personality types have given introverts an excuse to run from community and extroverts an excuse to never be alone. But Jesus prioritized time with people as well as time alone. I'm always convicted when I read about him withdrawing from the crowds. Much of my so-called alone time is spent in a flurry of productivity. I'm emailing, reading, listening to or watching something. Solitude doesn't seem productive, therefore it doesn't seem important.

My goal this year is based in John 15:5 -- "I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." While there is much that I could read and listen to that would encourage me to remain in Jesus, and many people who are also a part of that, I believe that solitude also plays a role. I have to remember that my flurries of productivity won't bear fruit unless I am retaining that intimacy with Christ.

The End of Solitude

I read a fascinating article the other day in The Chronicle of Higher Education written by William Deresiewicz entitled, "The End of Solitude."

Some excerpts:
"Young people today seem to have no desire for solitude, have never heard of it, can't imagine why it would be worth having. In fact, their use of technology — or to be fair, our use of technology — seems to involve a constant effort to stave off the possibility of solitude, a continuous attempt, as we sit alone at our computers, to maintain the imaginative presence of others."

"To remember this, to hold oneself apart from society, is to begin to think one's way beyond it. Solitude, Emerson said, 'is to genius the stern friend.' 'He who should inspire and lead his race must be defended from traveling with the souls of other men, from living, breathing, reading, and writing in the daily, time-worn yoke of their opinions.' One must protect oneself from the momentum of intellectual and moral consensus — especially, Emerson added, during youth."

"But no real excellence, personal or social, artistic, philosophical, scientific or moral, can arise without solitude. 'The saint and poet seek privacy,' Emerson said, '"to ends the most public and universal.' We are back to the seer, seeking signposts for the future in splendid isolation."

Deresiewicz makes many valid points, but I disagree with his conclusion. You can appreciate solitude and integrate it into your life without forsaking community completely. We don’t all need to move to Walden Pond. In the Christian life, we are called to both solitude and community.

The Mental Image

I chose Walking in Heels as a name for this blog because it’s been my mental image for my current season in life. This picture of a little girl walking out the door in shoes that are way too big for her may best describe how I feel.

I tell people that my soul is usually somewhere between the ages of five and twelve years old. For the most part, I feel like the world’s problems are over my head in their complexity. And yet, I feel God drawing me towards maturity, telling me in his gracious and gentle way that it’s time to grow up. To some degree, I believe the picture of this toddler will always be my mental image of myself. I will always be a child in God’s presence and expect he will continually challenge me with situations I believe are over my head. Dick Foth once said that we are children with God so that we can be adults around other people. I guess this blog is me trying to sort out how to do just that.

A Beginning

My reasons for blogging are primarily selfish. I don’t put my thoughts into words as much now that I’m not a student. My inner nerd has this confession: I miss writing research papers. The requirement of presenting newly acquired knowledge in a finished product, of weaving together arguments and viewpoints from multiple authors, gave me a reason to be curious. It forced me to dig deeper and make connections between the things I observed. I take in a lot of material, from books to sermons to blog posts. Despite all of my introverted qualities, I am also an external processor, unable to be at peace with conclusions drawn merely from solitary thought. Journaling is too much of a rough draft, not suitable for refining and polishing ideas. Discussion with friends provides no record to look back on. I want an environment where I can engage the ideas I consume, wrestling with them and processing them in hopes of coming to a more polished conclusion.

I also keep stumbling across Paul’s charge to Timothy to not neglect the gift that was in him. Writing has always been one of my gifts. I don’t believe our talents are fully formed at birth or by the end of adolescence. Blogging is my attempt to develop one of my abilities. I appreciate everyone in my life who has asked me in the past few years if I’m doing any writing—you have all encouraged me to not neglect the gift that is in me.

My hope in using this outlet to pursue these personal reasons for writing is that others will be blessed as a byproduct. I hope that some of my thoughts and struggles will resonate with those who read them, that I can connect people to good resources and prod them towards new ideas.