I stopped by a Starbucks late last night, on the way home from a Christmas party. It was mostly on a whim. I was too tired to drink coffee but I was sort of hoping that I'd find someone there that I knew. Happily, I was rewarded to find three friends of like minds and spirits. During one point in my conversation with them, we got on the subject of gift giving. I jokingly fended off a small impromptu gift by saying, "Oh no thank you, I'm not worthy of such a present." I didn't really mean that the value of a nice pen surpassed my own human dignity but I simply had no use for such a fine writing utensil. My friend responded by saying, "Well of course you're worthy! You were worth enough for Jesus to die for you so you're worth enough for me to give you this pen!"

Now, we were just having a good time, enjoying some early morning fellowship. I doubt anyone in the room at the that time had the sharp clarity of mind needed to discern all the theological nuances that weave themselves into conversations between human beings. My friend was merely being kind and he is impressively humble. But driving home, my mind got the better of me and I began to think about what he said. Was I really worth it for Jesus to die for me? I did a mental run through of my resumé. Average height. Average build. Lives below the poverty line. Needs eye correction to legally drive. Doesn't even have a dog.


On oh so many levels, I am nothing to brag about. This is no nose dive at my own self-esteem or sense of important. But really, I can't think of anything in myself that the God of the universe would count as "worthy". Any resemblance of charity or goodness that I can find in myself is infinitely magnified and multiplied in His own excellent character. Stand us both in front of the same mirror and only He will be found to lack nothing. So, I started thinking about God's motivation for choosing me, for loving me and for dying for me.

It's always best to go to the Scriptures. When we look at Ephesians 5:25-33, we see Paul is telling husbands to love their wives like Christ loved the church. Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her. Church goers are told this beginning in Sunday school. But what we are rarely told is why Christ really died for us. If anything, we're told that He died for us because He loved us enough to die for us. We're taught that we are the reward for His death. He died and it's because I'm so incredibly worthy that He died. Right? But Paul says that I am for Him. I, with the rest of the church universal, am to be presented to Him in splendor. Peter says the same in 1 Pet.3:18, that Christ died for the purpose of bringing us to Him.

The goal of salvation, ultimately, has never been man's good. The goal of salvation has always God's glory.

After watching Harry Potter with my parents, I did some driving around tonight. I ended up falling into a Starbucks. It was predictable as a pop song. The crescendo was a hot white mocha that scalded the tip of my tongue just like the night before. Several people from my old high school were there. I didn't recognize a few of them at first. I felt kinda guilty about that for a little bit. Though the feeling was evanescent, it was sharp enough to get me out the door. I wasn't running away, mind you. I just very badly wanted to get out of there. So I finished my Vonnegut and that wretched delight of a mocha and stepped to my car.

On the way to my friend's house, the saddest thought of a smile became bottled up inside my chest. I felt like had done something beautiful but tragic. It's hard and embarrassing to explain. Perhaps I was responsible for the death of the last unicorn? Or maybe you had morphed into a golden statute when I gave you the Midas hug. But that silly sickness evaporated once I got out of the car. After a few rounds of pool, I decided to head home. Then, ineluctably, my arms wrapped around this little glowing mousetrap and told you all about my evening. And now we're friends.

Hey Jude

I am not ashamed to say that I liked the movie Hairspray. It's really true: you can't stop the beat. It feels good to sell back those cursed textbooks.

I've been doing a lot of thinking today. Rethinking actually. Rethinking what I've been fed all my life in church. Now, I'm not talking about truth. I'm not saying that I've been rethinking every piece of good, Biblical doctrine that I've ever heard (although I do think it's wise to examine your beliefs to make sure you understand them). But I've been taking some long hard looks at the slices of folk theology that lines the walls of the churches of evangelicalism today. By "folk theology" I mean the traditions of men that have been souped up to look like the commandments of God. They are tacitly accepted as the Christian cultural norm. Examples would be like what it means to take the Lord's name in vain or whether a building or place can be made holy. Or here's a good one: is church tradition a bad thing? Protestants have been so anti-tradition for centuries ever since God rescued us from the darkness of Catholicism but is it really a bad thing? I believe that liturgy and creedal confessions, when utilized correctly, can be excellent and powerful methods of instruction. I'd like to see a good, Biblical Protestant liturgy. And if it doesn't happen soon, I'll just have to write it myself!

And another thing. Jude 21 tells us to keep ourselves in the love of God. For a stupidly long time I thought that verse meant that I was to somehow make sure that I never fell out of the range of God's love. But that never made any sense to me. As a Calvinist, I wondered how I could ever outrun or unearn God's love (since I never earned it in the first place and since God's love was first big enough to save me). So I tossed the verse aside as a bone, as something I simply was not mature enough to digest yet. But recently, through the preaching of one Charles Haddon Spurgeon, I've learned that it meant for me to make sure that I kept my love for God. It meant that I am to always seek to learn more, to keep warm my devotions, to keep pure my emotions and to keep bright my expectations.

Perhaps as a body, by and large, the evangelical church has missed this. We have not kept ourselves in the love of God. I understand that this verse must be narrowed down to a personal duty, but each of us personally is responsible for lackluster service to the Lord. I'm sorry to critique my own brethren but I think my boiling point has been tapped. Evangelicalism is fast becoming a political movement, stuffed with a prosperity gospel and a bottomless appetite for entertainment. The old guideposts of discernment and knowledge have been discarded for the more attractive fashion of being relevant to a pagan culture. It has become a white American religion and it has never been more comfortable with itself than today. Granted, there are many in evangelicalism who have not compromised the Biblical mandates and are daily seeking to remain in the love of God. But those faithful watch dogs are powerless to stop the bleeding.

Every arena in which the church has been failing, I think, can be traced back to its love for God. The heresy of the Emerging Church, however noble their initial ambitions may have been, is rooted in a distortion of truth. And here is where love comes in. As Spurgeon puts it: "Love God and you will not love false doctrine. Keep the heart of the church right and her head will not go far wrong. Let her abide in the love of Jesus and she will abide in the truth." Evangelicalism's slow surrender to missing the point is killing us softly. As Spurgeon says, "in dull, decaying churches, errors spread like ivy on the crumbling walls of an old abbey."

As it is an individual duty, I think the best way to recover and keep ourselves in the love of God is to daily seek more and more of the love of God. Never spend a day without seeking out the Master's voice. Don't leave your room to meet people head on until you have first met God head on. The church in all her beauty will one day be presented before the Father. We should have no doubt of that. But while we're on this side of heaven, we should be diligent to keep ourselves in the love of God, tossing aside error and distraction so that we can carry out our main purpose: to bring the Gospel of God to the unbelieving world.

V for Victory, S for Sweet

This couch likes to eat my phone. I think it's developed a fine taste for Sprint over the years. But I'm totally recumbent here and my phone has a tendency to slide out of my pocket and down between the cushions. I'm pretty sure I could drown on this thing. You need a life jacket to lounge.

Life is officially no longer in slow motion! I played my jury today and it turns out my chops were good enough to pass. Honestly, didn't see that coming. But by the grace of God, I earned the right to continue education in Texas. Praise the Lord! So, can I relax now? Perhaps not. But can I breathe now? Oh yes. And breathing is a nice reward for slow motion pain.

I've fallen in love again with words. It's a shame how quickly I fell out. Maybe I'd merely forgotten it. But I was able to treat myself well after I got the happy news of my passing the jury. I just sat down in a Starbucks with my ipod, my little ESV Bible and my little notebook and had a grand, beautiful time. I'm excited to find some new music this Christmas. I can tell you for sure that Shostakovitch's 3rd String Quartet is thrilling.

I played hide and seek with pleasure and found it set in stone and covered with life.

Your PB from J for today: "She kissed me!"