Don't Keep Christ in Christmas

 It seems that the world is divided into two groups of people: those who eat vegetables, and those who don't. A lot of people who don't eat vegetables seem to feel that that's a totally valid option. They say that they feel well and strong, and that they don't feel that they are lacking any nutrition from not eating vegetables. They say that vegetables are boring at best, often unpleasant, and that there are better things that they can eat. Those of us who do eat vegetables say that vegetables are badly misunderstood. Vegetables are meant to be central to human nourishment, and the perception that vegetables are boring is unfair. Boring vegetables are the fault of the chef, not of the vegetable.

For a while now, it seems that there has been a campaign by some vegetable eaters arguing that people should eat vegetables once a year. I think that they hope that by experiencing vegetables, non-vegetable eaters will be more inclined to eat them. But I think it's much more likely that non-vegetable eaters then feel secure in having done their yearly duty, and then go back to eating what they want.

I hope that by now, you've figured out that I'm not talking about vegetables. I'm talking about the dangerous cry that we hear each year from well-meaning Christians arguing that we “keep Christ in Christmas.” I think I understand where such people are coming from: Christmas is a natural time to experience the story of Jesus, and they hope that it will stick. But I am afraid that the message that ends up being sent is, “get your yearly Jesus.”

Jesus did not come to be the patron of a political party, the leader of a feel-good campaign, or the centre of a holiday. Jesus came to seek and save what is lost, to draw all people to himself through his death, and to call all those who would follow him to a life of sacrifice that looks like his own. To encourage people to celebrate Jesus once a year represents our Lord very poorly. It's like telling a person that because they once read a book about the brain they should try neurosurgery. It's telling someone that because they can tap out a tune on a piano they should quit their job and become a concert pianist. It's telling someone that they'll meet all their nutritional needs, if they would just eat vegetables once a year. It is the selling of a false hope by those who actually have the real hope. So don't keep Christ in Christmas – at least, not if that's all that you're telling to those who are lost. Because if Christ is only kept in Christmas, then he isn't really kept at all.

My Lord, the Refugee

By night they rose and left in haste,
A man, his wife, her son,
Traveling to another land:
A family on the run.

For the good that lay behind them
Family, work, and daily life
Tangled in visions of danger:
The soldiers, and the knife.

They laid aside their homeland
For their little son's sake
For them, nothing could be too great
A sacrifice to make.

The little son of long ago
Whose life his parents saved,
Chose death to free us from our sins,
Then overcame the grave.

All that I have, all that I am,
Belongs to Christ my Lord,
He tells me I must walk in faith,
A follower of his word.

Now as once before we see
Men, their wives, and sons,
Desperate for another land:
Families on the run.

For the good that lies behind them
Family, work, and daily life
Tangles in visions of danger:
The soldiers, and the knife.

He said that what I do for him
Is what I do for these,
So gladly do I welcome in
My Lord, the refugee.

The Story that Really Matters

There is nothing more powerful in this world than the power of story. The world is full of stories – thousands of them, all competing to be heard. Stories are how we explain our existence. Some people have a story about a highly improbable accident that began the universe and life as we know it. Some people have a story about endless cycles that they must endure to finally be released from the bondage of existence. Some people have a story about a prophet who told people to conquer in God's name. And some people have a story about a God who died for his rebellious creation, but who couldn't stay dead, and who will return once more to rule over the restoration of all things.

While I have not (and really, do not) intend to wade into the stupid red cup broohaha, I feel like something needs to be said, because this is a symptom of a bigger problem. We live in a world where the Christian story of God and his creation and salvation through the blood of Jesus is losing ground to the other stories. As Christians, our story has been the dominant one in North America for the last two hundred years. For much longer than any of us have been alive, it has shaped not only Christian hearts, but also our social, political, and cultural structures. As we lose that position of power, it is natural that there's a period of disorientation as we adjust to the new cultural realities in which we find ourselves.

But I am bothered by the many who feel a need to shrilly affirm that they will “keep Christ in Christmas” and “it's 'Merry Christmas' not 'Happy Holidays'.” I appreciate the celebration of Christmas. I love a good excuse to eat chocolate, celebrate the big story that explains my existence, and sing some really cool songs. But Jesus doesn't need a holiday. Jesus didn't have a holiday in the first century (he probably didn't have one in the second century, for that matter). If we are no longer the dominant cultural voice, perhaps it is time to sacrifice our snowflake cups for whatever the current culture finds more appropriate. Our Lord does not need some sort of Christian culture for his good news of great joy to be heard by all people.

Listen to me here: Jesus does not need us to defend him. If someone says “Happy Holidays,” return the sentiment with whichever greeting rolls most naturally off your tongue. And if you have reason to believe that that person's big story is very different from your own, maybe take a moment to thank them, since they are honouring you with the best wishes of a holiday that is not their own.

At Christmas, we celebrate the story that really matters: that Jesus entered into a dark world filled with sinful rebels to save us all. Let's love deeply, and live generously, even when – perhaps especially when – they are people who don't look or act like us. Let's care for the widow, the orphan, and the foreigner as if they are our own people, because our God is in the business of turning orphans into beloved children, and foreigners into citizens. Let us celebrate the country, the kingdom, that truly belongs to God. Let us celebrate Christ our Lord and light who shines in the darkness, though NBC and CNN have not understood it.

It's Not Really a Refugee Crisis

I've seen the pictures on Facebook of masses of huddled tents of those trying to get out of wherever they are. I've read a few snippets of some of their stories. I'm pretty sure that what we have here is not a “refugee crisis.”

What we have are people. People who kiss their spouse in the morning, tickle their kids, and work hard (or long to work hard) to provide for those in their care. People who want to live safely, and not worry about being shot for placing their faith in the wrong god or practicing their faith in the wrong way. What we have are people, like us.

God didn't create an “us” and a “them.” God created human beings who all bear his image equally. Even when he had chosen one particular people to whom he revealed himself, he told them over and over again to show kindness to the foreigner (Exod 20:10; 22:21; 23:9; Lev 19:10, 33-34; 23:22; Deut 10:18-19; 14:29; 16:11, 14; 24:19-21; 26:11-13). Quite arguably, he even says not to send refugees back to the place which they have fled. Deuteronomy 23:15-16 says, “You shall not give up to his master a slave who has escaped from his master to you. He shall dwell with you, in your midst, in the place that he shall choose within one of your towns, wherever it suits him. You shall not wrong him.” This takes it a step further. All foreigners were to be treated well, but a slave seeking refuge was practically granted automatic citizenship. While most of those trying to flee Syria are not slaves as such, what sort of freedom could they possibly expect under the rule of the Islamic State? The principle remains the same. Just as revealing is God's statement that even “our land” is not “our land,” because as far as he is concerned we are all foreigners living on *his* land (Lev 25:23).

This argument, thus far, has been made simply from the Old Testament. How much more ought we, as Christians, fellow-heirs with Jesus of an eternal kingdom, to care about people whom God has made? Many of these people are in fact our brothers and sisters in Christ, escaping terrible persecution and possibly death because they cannot betray their Lord, and we have a special responsibility to them. But they are all our brothers and sisters in Adam, and we have a responsibility to them all (Gal 6:10).

I almost never read social justice. I often find that the love of the issue with which the writers are concerned overwhelms their theology. If this has happened to me, please tell me. I do not want my passion for an issue to be greater than my passion for my Lord and the careful teaching of his word. I have never written social justice before, because I believe that the primary task of those who would teach God's people is to teach his word. I believe that a right teaching of God's word will lead people into right action.

But it seems to me like not only am I not seeing right action, but I am seeing and hearing some bad theology. I see people asking “why are we worried about them when there are needy people here?” or saying “we don't want to let people in who will drain the system.” Let's look at those: first, there will always be needy people everywhere. We live in a broken world that cannot be fixed by human systems. Has God given you a heart for the needy people around you? Wonderful! But don't let that detract from the message of those who have been given a heart for the needy who are far off. Also, the needy people here have access to the social catch nets provided by our governments. The people who are far off have nothing, to a degree that most of us have never experienced and cannot understand. Secondly, yes, helping others will be a burden on the system, at least in the short term. Yet I expect that many of these people have skills that are desperately needed in the West. Almost all of them are probably industrious and hard-working. There are few people who truly want to be leeches. Further, do we do things only because they are good for the balance sheet? Is there no place for doing good to others simply because they are in need? What kind of statement is that from people who follow the God who sacrificed himself for the sake of wicked rebels?

Finally, it may be that your government seems disinterested in the plight of those who are trying to escape their suffering. As Christians, we are called to abide by the law in all but the most extreme situations. Do not look to violate the law in your desire to help others. Our government has the right to make whatever decision they deem best about this situation, however moronic or ungodly that decision may be. But as Christians, do not allow your government's moronic decisions or rhetoric about some “refugee crisis” to let you off the hook of the real issue. We are to care for other human beings, creations of God whom he loves and calls us to love, and a class of people – the needy – that he has always sought to protect.

My Atheism Exposed

Almost forty years ago, my mother had a bad fall after one of the surgeries that took her leg. As a result, she had several weeks of PSW care. The PSW on her case was a woman just a little older than she was, the mother of a troubled family, with an alcoholic husband. My Mom came to know and love these people – she had a singular ability to be able not only to love people, but even enjoy them in spite of deep dysfunction and sin.

Alcoholism and substance abuse, failed relationships, mental illness, and a marked lack of good parenting can be traced down the generations. In fact, I just recently went to what may have been that family's first wedding in decades.

The individual being married followed the family pattern through much of his young life. He and I are about the same age, I've known him all my life, and we were friends growing up. He never finished high school, he was constantly angry, vengeful, and trouble-making. Shortly after high school, he moved in with a girl and had two kids. They don't live terribly close, and I've not been in touch much, but the kinds of things I saw from him on Facebook were about what I expected.

Honestly, I didn't really want to go to the wedding. I felt I had to go to this wedding for the sake of my mother. She would have wanted to be there; she would have wanted me to be there. And I knew that being there would mean a lot to this family, to whom my mother meant so much. But it was not at all what I expected.

This friend of mine and his little family have been attending a local church. Interestingly, it's not the kind of church that young unchurched people attend. It's not part of a terribly evangelical denomination. The people there were upper-middle class people, who looked like nice, comfortable church people. And yet they have clearly made this family their project, in all the best ways. They made sure there was food for the reception, they helped make sure that clothes were together, they spoke well and fondly of this family who doesn't quite look or act like them. They helped them celebrate, and they celebrated with them.

But most of all I couldn't believe the change in him. He's always going to be...himself. He's not the kind person who just fits in. But in this church community, they are making him a place. He was so gentle. I can't put my finger on any one thing; it was his demeanor. He was gentle with his mother and grandmother. He was gentle and sweet to his kids. And his little son, whom I have never met, but who is every bit his father at the same age is unlike his father in only one thing: that when he calls “Daddy!” there is someone who answers.

After the reception, I spoke to my friend. It went something like this:
Me: “So this Jesus thing you have happening—”
Him: “Yeah, it's been a year now.”
Me: “Keep going after it; there's something real here.”
Him: “Yeah—it's really peaceful.”
Me: “You told me once that God could never love you—”
Him: “That was a really dark time.”
Me: “I hope that this is a place where you're learning that isn't true.”

Based on the title of this post, and what I've written so far, you may be wondering what atheism has to do with it. Here it is: I never believed that I would have a conversation like this with him. Our family has been involved with his for roughly forty years. Surely, if there were to be anyone brought to faith, would it not have happened in that time?

I have devoted my life to the study of scripture. I have told people that I believe that God has spoken to his people. I have told people that I believe that the least of what God has to offer is worth more than the most that the world has to offer. I have told people that two thousand years ago God himself died, but came back three days later, and is alive today.

Don't get me wrong: when I told people that I believed these things, I believed that I believed them. But if I believe these things, why do I not believe that God can take a dead friend of mine and make him alive? Of course, I would have said that God can do it; it's just that these days, God doesn't. I think I have skirted the issue by allowing for the possibility while denying the reality. God's work among his people has changed through history. But perhaps it has changed less than I realize, less than I have thought.

I don't think we can compartmentalize. Either we believe all of it; or we believe none of it. I can't believe that God created the world, decimated Egypt, and raised Jesus from the dead if I will not also believe that dead men still breathe when they hear God's voice. Either I believe in all of God's work, or I am an atheist.

And please pray for my friend. I'm not sure that he is out of the woods yet. Recovery from death is sometimes a very slow process. But when I spoke with him recently, for the first time in the thirty years that I have known him, I saw him breathe.

It Was You, the King of Glory

It was you, the King of Glory,
Who came to this dark, sinful world
You the Son of God the Father,
Born of Mary, a Jewish girl.

Born in Bethlehem of Judah
Raised in Nazareth, Galilee
You walked Israel's dusty pathways
To heal, and teach, and set men free

It was you the King of Glory
Who called Lazarus from the tomb
Who gave comfort and who wept
And with one action sealed your doom

Boldly riding to Jerusalem,
There your kingship to proclaim.
Lauded by travelers on the roadway,
While the rulers cursed your name.

It was you, the King of Glory,
Who was nailed upon a cross,
Who was mocked and who was tortured,
Counting your own life as loss.

You spoke forgiveness to the vile,
The sinner words of mercy heard,
You made provision for your mother,
Fulfilled the prophets' every word.

It was you, the King of Glory,
Sealed and guarded in the tomb,
Whose disciples, sad and frightened
Locked the door of the upper room.

But breaking past guard, seal, and lock,
You joined them there amidst their pain.
They thought that death had been victorious
But in power you rose again.

It is you, the King of Glory
Who will come to judge and save,
Those who've longed for your salvation,
Those who've languished in the grave.

So King Jesus, come and rescue,
As your people now we plead:
Return as you have promised,
See us healed, cleansed, and freed.

Back to the Beginning

“Then Moses wrote this law and gave it to the priests, the sons of Levi, who carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and to all the elders of Israel. And Moses commanded them, “At the end of every seven years, at the set time in the year of release, at the Feast of Booths, when all Israel comes to appear before the Lord your God at the place that he will choose, you shall read this law before all Israel in their hearing. Assemble the people, men, women, and little ones, and the sojourner within your towns, that they may hear and learn to fear the Lord your God, and be careful to do all the words of this law, and that their children, who have not known it, may hear and learn to fear the Lord your God, as long as you live in the land that you are going over the Jordan to possess.” (Deut 31:9-13)

 

There were three major festivals that the Hebrews celebrated each year: Passover, the Feast of Weeks, and the Feast of Booths – or as I like to think of it, Family Camp. Once each year, they were to build themselves a little temporary shelter and live in it for a week to remind them of their nation's formative years as wilderness nomads. But every seven years, there was an added piece to it: the law was to be read. Good writing materials were expensive, and literacy rates, while probably better than we sometimes imagine, were quite low. People didn't have their own “bible.” I'm sure parts of it were memorized, and certainly it was taught through the ministry of the Levites, but there were probably very few people who ever had opportunity to hear the entirety of the Law. So once every seven years, the people were to gather not only for Family Camp but also to hear the whole Law read: not only God's commands, but the entire record of his covenant relationship with his people.

 

The interesting part is with which feast they experienced this Sabbath year event. The reading of the law first happened in the wilderness, while the people were landless nomads. The Feast of Booths recreated the wilderness experience; the reading of the law adds another layer to that return to their roots. They would get, as much as possible, a sense of what their ancestors experienced in that time that they were on the verge of claiming the promises of God.

 

It is good for us to go back to the beginning now and again: to recall and re-experience God's good work in our lives. Often we do this when we commemorate anniversaries of various sorts. It happens more sporadically when we witness a baptism. And hopefully, it happens each week as we hear the gospel preached. We never lose our need to hear the good news of God's work: the work that has saved us, that is saving us, and that will save us in the end.

Who are You Going to Choose?

“See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil. If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I command you today, by loving the Lord your God, by walking in his ways, and by keeping his commandments and his statutes and his rules, then you shall live and multiply, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to take possession of it. But if your heart turns away, and you will not hear, but are drawn away to worship other gods and serve them, I declare to you today, that you shall surely perish. You shall not live long in the land that you are going over the Jordan to enter and possess. I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying his voice and holding fast to him, for he is your life and length of days, that you may dwell in the land that the Lord swore to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give them.” (Deut 30:15-20)

God's people have always had a choice to make. From the time of the Garden, God has always put before his people two options, which Moses sums up here as “life” and “death.” Obey God and be blessed; disobey and die. But as we keep reading, something interesting develops. The “what” actually becomes a “who.” In the last sentence, Moses starts with “choose life” which is characterized by loving and obeying and holding onto God, because *he* is life.

God has never simply showed us two roads and said, “walk down the one on the left, and I'll bless you, but if you walk down the one on the right I'll abandon you.” Rather, God is standing at the end of the road on the left, saying, “Come this way, where I am, so that you can be with me. Don't walk down the other road, because it's full of lies and death.”

And so today, run to his arms, where the riches of his love are always enough. Today, let him lead you, and be his faithful follower. He will not lead you where he is not.

Secrets and Revelations

“The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.” (Deut 29:29)

God withholds things. There are things that happen that we don't understand, because God has not revealed them. We don't even know why God hasn't revealed them. Maybe it's because it's beyond us. Maybe it's because he's looking to call out our faith. Maybe there's another reason that I don't get.

But while there are things God has withheld, there is much that God has revealed. He is a God who communicates with us, who wants to be near to us. And his is a God who treats us with such respect that he allows us to choose whether or not we will be near him. Someday, the secret things will be made plain. For now, we trust in what he has revealed.

Celebrating God's Work

“When you come into the land that the Lord your God is giving you for an inheritance and have taken possession of it and live in it, you shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground, which you harvest from your land that the Lord your God is giving you, and you shall put it in a basket, and you shall go to the place that the Lord your God will choose, to make his name to dwell there. And you shall go to the priest who is in office at that time and say to him, ‘I declare today to the Lord your God that I have come into the land that the Lord swore to our fathers to give us.’ Then the priest shall take the basket from your hand and set it down before the altar of the Lord your God. “And you shall make response before the Lord your God, ‘A wandering Aramean was my father. And he went down into Egypt and sojourned there, few in number, and there he became a nation, great, mighty, and populous. And the Egyptians treated us harshly and humiliated us and laid on us hard labor. Then we cried to the Lord, the God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. And the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great deeds of terror, with signs and wonders. And he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And behold, now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground, which you, O Lord, have given me.’ And you shall set it down before the Lord your God and worship before the Lord your God. And you shall rejoice in all the good that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house, you, and the Levite, and the sojourner who is among you.” (Deut 26:1-11).

This beautiful ceremony describes a one-time event in the life of each of the families that received land in Canaan. It was a ceremony of remembrance and celebration, in which they gave an offering, told the story of what God had done, and invited others into celebration in community.

The first means of remembering God's work was by giving. Now, God could simply demand offerings on the basis of his greatness and his power and his ownership of all things. But instead, he roots the command to give in the good work that he has done. Notice the verbs in the first verse: “When you have entered the land the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance and have taken possession of it and settled in it.” Moses repeats the thought three times that they are coming into their inheritance as God's children. It is on this basis – the generosity of God – that Israel is told to come with a gift. And then in the second verse, he repeats again, word for word, “the land the Lord your God is giving you.” This offering that they are to bring is not a tax collected by a divine despot – it's the child bringing back to his Father evidence that he is making good use of the gift his Father has given to him.

The second means of remembering God's work was by telling the story of God's work. The story begins by describing the worshiper’s ancestor as “a wandering Aramean”. These are very meaningful descriptors. That his father was “wandering” stands in stark contrast to the worshiper's settled condition. Jacob, the one who spoke to and wrestled with God, in a sense enjoyed fewer blessings than his descendents. He had not received the promise of God. That he is described as an Aramean is a reminder that the nation of Israel was called out from among other nations. At this point, Arameans are foreigners, a pagan nation that does not know God. To think of his ancestor as an Aramean is to remind the worshiper that he has come to this place only through the grace of God. It wasn't by some special holiness that Israel claimed the land, but because God is a god who fulfils his promises. The story that the worshiper tells makes it clear that there was in fact no merit on the part of Israel that caused God to choose them. They were enslaved, oppressed under the mighty hand of one of the greatest powers of the ancient world. Their prayers weren't even for the inheritance promised to their forefathers: it was simply for deliverance from slavery and suffering. God did so much more than end their suffering – he brought them out of Egypt, he entered into a covenant with them, and laid the foundation for them to be a nation in their own right. The worshiper stood before God having done nothing to earn his inheritance. He had simply followed obediently where God had led, and claimed God's good gift.

The third means of remembering God's work was by inviting others into celebration. In the last verse of this passage, we see that this offering and testimony were not a private affair, nor was this a solemn occasion. A part of the offering that was brought by the worshiper was returned to him so that he and his household could celebrate their inheritance in the presence of God while at the tabernacle. Elsewhere in Deuteronomy, the language of “you shall rejoice” means that the worshiper was to hold a holy and joyous celebration of the good works of God, centered around a meal that was eaten in the presence of the Lord. And this was not a private party, but the Levites and foreigners living in Israel were to join them. These in particular are chosen because they are the landless of the population. An foreigner could not inherit land, because the land was divided among the tribes. The Levites had no tribal territory and no farmland, but only a number of scattered cities and a little grazing land. At first glance, it may seem a bit cruel to bring along these perpetually landless individuals to a celebration of the inheritance of land. Imagine someone saying to their friend, “Hey, why don't you come with me to celebrate the good things God has given me that you can never have!” But I don't think it was that shallow. While it's true that Levites and foreigners would almost never have an inheritance of land, they are never looked upon in scripture as second-class citizens. Rather than having land, the Levites were supported by the Lord's portion, so that they could devote themselves to the work of ministry. And foreigners, along with widows and orphans, were among those who were to be cared for in Israel, for the very reason that Israel knew what it was to be in a land not their own. To invite the Levites and the foreigners along was to give them a place in the festivals by way of adoption, so that they too could celebrate the good work of God.

I see many ways that this passage applies to us as Christians today: things such as the reason why we gather for worship, and the meaning behind out giving. But perhaps the strongest application, and the most meaningful one to bring up on Easter weekend, is about the Lord's Supper. Each week we set aside time to recall the work of Jesus in our lives and celebrate what he has achieved for us. As Christians, we have received even greater blessings than the blessings that Israel was celebrating in Deuteronomy 26. While we have not received an ancestral homeland, we have been given the promise of a future home where the dwelling of God will truly be with his people. While we have not been brought out of slavery to a foreign power, we have been freed from our bondage to sin, and death no longer has any hold on us. We come together each week to meet God, and to thank him. We come to remember what God has done as we give, and celebrate, and hear the good story of salvation spoken once again.

Apples and the Christian and Missionary Alliance

It started with an offer of apples. Sometime in Montreal in the late 1920s, my Grandma and her sisters came home and told their mother that there was this church group that was offering apples to kids, and could they take one? My great-grandmother said yes. I don't quite know why. Having spent most of her younger years impoverished in London, England, she hated to be seen as a charity case. Maybe she was having an indulgent day. Maybe she had grown up knowing how terrible scurvy could be. Maybe she just liked apples. But for whatever reason, she said, “yes” – as long as they also went to the church's program. They were not to simply receive a handout without hearing what these people had to say.

Strictly speaking, these young ladies were not conversions for the Alliance church. They never joined that church, and they were already Christians. But in the Church of Christ at Verdun, there were very few people the age of my Grandma and her sisters. There were older people in the church whom my Grandma respected. There were many children and youth in their thriving Sunday School program whom she loved and taught. But there was no one her own age: no peers, and no real youth ministry for her age group.

My Grandma learned and grew in valuable ways in the Verdun church. It was there that she came to Christ. It was there that she began a lifetime of Sunday School teaching. It was there that she developed a pattern of throwing herself wholeheartedly into whatever service was before her. But while Grandma speaks often of Verdun, if anything she speaks even more of her time in the youth group of the Alliance Church. Despite the many years, she still remembers their names and their kindness, their songs and their evangelistic zeal. She learned to minister in Verdun, but she was ministered to by the Alliance.

We talk a lot today about evangelism: how to do it well, not corny, not pushy, not hesitant. How to be friendly, genuine, intentional, caring, and respectful. Maybe we overthink it. Maybe we just need to do something – and it doesn't have to be big. Maybe we just need to offer something – and it doesn't have to be expensive. Although I expect apples had more value in 1920s Montreal, I don't expect they had to remortgage the church building, either. Perhaps we should identify what an apple would be to the people around us, and take it from there.

One more thing: you're not a failure because people don't join your church. Those youth leaders of the Alliance church, who I am sure lamented the loss of a lovely young woman when she left their youth group, never knew this side of glory the profound impact they would have on this woman, who even after all this time speaks of them with the utmost fondness and respect. And it all started with an offer of apples.

All His Ways are Justice

“You shall not pervert the justice due to the sojourner or to the fatherless, or take a widow’s garment in pledge, but you shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt and the Lord your God redeemed you from there; therefore I command you to do this.” (Deut 24:17-18)

“The Rock, his work is perfect, for all his ways are justice. A God of faithfulness and without iniquity, just and upright is he.” (Deut 32:4)

Some time ago, I witnessed a grave injustice, committed against people whom I love, committed by people whose duty it was to protect them. It was hard to watch those people hurting, and confused and angry. I am also angry. I am angry that I live in a world where injustice can be easily perpetrated against the disadvantaged. I am angry that those who have been placed in positions of authority can often abuse that authority with impunity. I am angry for the dishonour shown and harm done to those I love.

It is good to remember that these issues are not new ones. Biblical law frequently reminds and requires the people to care for widows, orphans, and foreigners. Each of these groups was without the protection of family, and without land to provide sustenance and income. None of these groups had legal standing in the ancient world. And while we theoretically have a system today where all people are equal, our society remains imperfect, and is administered, even at best, by imperfect people. We still judge people by their resume, by their skin colour, by their finances, by their nationality, by their education.

We should seek justice. God calls us, in the world today, to be a just people. But he also knows that because of our sinfulness and our fallen natures, we will never truly have a just society. So while we do what we can, our hope is not in people and systems, but in the God who is perfectly just, the God who has never sinned, the God who is faithful to his people. We have the promise that our King will come to finish what he started. The one who dealt the deathblow to sin and evil is going to come again, and he will be at last victorious. That is the day when all of this will make sense, when we will see how what feels like defeat has been redeemed and used in God's plan. That is the day when all wrongs will be righted. That is the day when the crimes committed against God's people will be avenged. He will heal our wounds, wipe our tears, and make all things new. Until then we wait, and we pray. Come, King Jesus.

Fed by God

“And you shall remember the whole way that the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments or not. And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.” (Deut 8:2-3).

This passage says some amazing things about the purpose of the forty years that Israel spent in the wilderness. Obviously, the wilderness wandering was a punishment. Ten of the twelve spies who entered Canaan were afraid of the warriors and the city fortifications (Num 13:28). They died for their disbelief (Num 14:36-37), and God said that the rest of the nation would wander for forty years, until all the adults of that generation had died (Num 14:28-30). But here it says that there was a purpose to the wilderness wandering beyond a national time out. First he says that it was a time of testing. With the timing of their plans derailed, it gave God – and Israel – an opportunity to assess their hearts. Were they going to react to God's discipline with grumbling, or with humility? Next he says that he humbled them by allowing them to go hungry, but that he then fed them. Israel was fed by God himself – an amazing blessing. Even in discipline, even in humbling, God is still blessing his people.

The temptation of Jesus reflects the wilderness experience of Israel: Israel spent forty years in the wilderness; Jesus spent forty days. Israel was tested by God; Jesus was tempted by Satan, proving his loyalty to God. Israel was given a fresh scattering of bread on the ground every morning by God; Jesus is tempted by Satan to turn rocks into bread. God says in Deuteronomy 8 that the point of the manna was to show Israel that God decides when it's time to eat. Jesus quotes this passage to Satan, and I think that he's saying more than, “God's words are more important than food.” Jesus is content with however God decides to feed him: whether by manna, by the ministry of angels (Matt 4:11), or by the words of God that nourish our souls.

For Our Good Always

“When your son asks you in time to come, ‘What is the meaning of the testimonies and the statutes and the rules that the Lord our God has commanded you?’ then you shall say to your son, ‘We were Pharaoh’s slaves in Egypt. And the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. And the Lord showed signs and wonders, great and grievous, against Egypt and against Pharaoh and all his household, before our eyes. And he brought us out from there, that he might bring us in and give us the land that he swore to give to our fathers. And the Lord commanded us to do all these statutes, to fear the Lord our God, for our good always, that he might preserve us alive, as we are this day. And it will be righteousness for us, if we are careful to do all this commandment before the Lord our God, as he has commanded us.’” (Deut 6:20-25)

 

If Deuteronomy has a passage that everyone loves, it probably comes from chapter six. Both the shema (Hear, O Israel), and the beautiful passage following that describes families learning God's word together in daily life have for millennia challenged the people of God. But the end of this chapter is nearly as beautiful. It envisions a conversation between parent and child. The child wants to know why they have to do all this stuff that God has commanded. On what basis should they obey the law? The father could simply say, “well, God told us to do it, and because he's more powerful than we are and can fry us crispy when we sin, we'd better do what he says.” That would be a valid and completely accurate answer. But it's not where God wants them to go. Why keep the law? They were slaves, and God rescued them. God had made promises in the past to bless them, and they were unfulfilled. They were to obey because God sought their good. The many laws were given by God to bless his people, not to burden them, and to make them holy, so that he could have a relationship with him.

 

While we are not to follow the forms of the law as they are laid out in the Old Testament, much of this yet applies to us. God still calls us to follow him in obedience. We also were slaves, slaves to sin, and we have been rescued. God has blessed us, not with a physical land, but with an eternal kingdom. God still seeks the good of his people. So the answer to why we are obedient isn't because God can fry us crispy, but because he loves us, he has rescued us, and we are his children.

A Week of Deuteronomy (the Coolest Book!)

A close friend of mine recently asked me which book of the Bible is my favourite. Without hesitation, I chose Deuteronomy. Usually when I say this, people look at me as if I have four heads and ask why. My friend – dear lady that she is – smiled and said, “That's so interesting!” And then she asked “why”! After I explained a few of the passages that I find compelling, she nodded thoughtfully and said, “I think I need to go back and look at Deuteronomy again.” Nothing could delight me more than to cause people to reexamine God's word.

 

When it comes to Deuteronomy, “why?” seems like a valid question. We often see it as a list of laws, and if we have a passing familiarity with biblical law, we'll know that some of it feels like a lukewarm rehash of previous material. While I love biblical law, and find it both fascinating and challenging, what I love about Deuteronomy is not so much its laws, but what it says about the law, about its importance, and its place in the instruction of God's people. God gave his people the law not only so that they would know how to live, but so that they would know him better.

 

Recently on Facebook, people have been posting daily scripture for a week. I always enjoy things like this: I love to see what passages speak most strongly to people. Since Deuteronomy speaks so strongly to me, and apparently not to most of the rest of the Christian world, I have decided to blog a week's worth of Deuteronomy passages. I want others to see what I see in this book. So therefore I have accepted the unmade challenge (update: challenge was eventually made formally by my Dad). I will post the scriptures on Facebook, but I will also link back to my blog, so that if you're wondering exactly what I was smoking when I picked the passage, I can explain why it means so much to me.

Bard, Smaug, and Spiritual Warfare

If you are in that small subsection of society that cares about the Hobbit movies but has not actually seen them yet, be warned:

*HERE BE SPOILERS*

Perhaps my favourite moment in The Battle of the Five Armies was in the first ten minutes or so of the movie. Bard finds himself on the top of a watchtower with a broken bow, his son, and the black arrow, the one weapon that might actually bring down Smaug, the dragon. The situation dire, Bard forms a makeshift ballista out of the wood of the bow and his son's body, steadying the missile on the boy's shoulder. The boy, in what appears to be both fear and curiosity, looks at the dragon, and immediately Bard instructs his son to look at him, and to be still. If the boy is focused on the dragon, he will be afraid. If he focuses on his father, if he follows without question the smallest instruction, "hold still" or "move a little to the left," his father can use him. It's not the son's job to fight the dragon, but he does have a role to play in assisting his father's purpose.

Having described to you the scene as I saw it, you probably get the spiritual warfare analogy, but in case you don't: Bard is God. As in so many stories, we should not see ourselves in the hero so much as we should see God there. Now, God isn't at wit's end. God isn't in a disaster ridden situation. God doesn't use us because he's out of options. But God is the one who fights the dragon. We are the son. We don't fight the dragon; no good father would ask that of his little son. It's out of our league. But God in his infinite wisdom planned to make use of us in his fight. If we focus on the fight, if we focus on the dragon who is bent on our destruction, we will be paralyzed with fear, and of no use. But if we keep our eyes on our father, if we obey without question his command, he will use us for his purposes, for his glory.