Over the past weekend there was some debate as to whether or not there was snow somewhere in all fifty states. There was no dispute about snow in all the states except Hawaii.
Really it isn't uncommon for there to be snow on Mt. Mauna Kea, in our Island State, but observers claimed they didn't see any there this last weekend. Others said it was there, even producing pictures.
I don't know. I have no way to find out, and it really doesn't matter whether there was a patch of white in all fifty states.
Does the weather prove anything about the condition of our planet?
Some claim it sure demonstrates that global-warming is a hoax. The people in Vancouver and other Northern, snowless climes, might beg to disagree. Others say the strangeness of the weather is exactly what one living on a planet with a fever should expect.
Me?
I don't know.
Here is a passage of scripture for us to think about & we'll get back to this tomorrow:
But He replied to them, "When it is evening, you say, 'It will be fair weather, for the sky is red.' "And in the morning, 'There will be a storm today, for the sky is red and threatening.' Do you know how to discern the appearance of the sky, but cannot discern the signs of the times?" (Matthew 16:2-3, NASB95)
It's STTA
Monday, February 15, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Living at church:
Having spent my life in the "church business," I have heard the statement, "She/He lives at church," many times. Whether that statement is intended as a compliment or not depends on who? and when? and exactly what?
Disclaimer:
If you are looking for one of those recovering religion-O-holic kind of things you need to look elsewhere. I'm an old church fan. I am still thoroughly convinced that the church--the true church that can track its lineage back to Matthew 16--is this world's last best hope.*
A friend, though, sent me some pictures about someone who really does live at church, or more accurately a building that used to be a church-house, and I found that pretty sad.
I know the building is just brick and mortar and well-done woodwork, but so frequently church-houses becoming houses, or offices or restaurants (Kathy once ate at a lovely one.), or barns tends to represent the decline of influence of the real church--not the building, but the folk who meet there.
I know it is simplistic, but there is a certain undeniable logic to it: If more of us would go to church this Sunday, it would be less likely that someone will be living there next year. And that will make all our houses better places to live.
It's STTA.
(See pictures of the church house. Click here:
* I read this statement in one of Pastor Bill Hybels' books.
Disclaimer:
If you are looking for one of those recovering religion-O-holic kind of things you need to look elsewhere. I'm an old church fan. I am still thoroughly convinced that the church--the true church that can track its lineage back to Matthew 16--is this world's last best hope.*
A friend, though, sent me some pictures about someone who really does live at church, or more accurately a building that used to be a church-house, and I found that pretty sad.
I know the building is just brick and mortar and well-done woodwork, but so frequently church-houses becoming houses, or offices or restaurants (Kathy once ate at a lovely one.), or barns tends to represent the decline of influence of the real church--not the building, but the folk who meet there.
I know it is simplistic, but there is a certain undeniable logic to it: If more of us would go to church this Sunday, it would be less likely that someone will be living there next year. And that will make all our houses better places to live.
It's STTA.
(See pictures of the church house. Click here:
* I read this statement in one of Pastor Bill Hybels' books.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Manhood, Superbowl Style:
My son and his family just moved to Louisiana so I was more interested in the Superbowl than usual. It was a good game, especially for the folk in the Whodat Nation.
As usual, the show in the show brought as much attention as the big game, itself. I noticed a theme that ran through many of the ads. I guess since these commercials were part of big testosterone fueled sporting event it's not surprising that a lot of them had to do with questions of manhood.
A pitch for soap, that is usually associated with ladies, and their quest for lovelier skin, asks guys, "Now that you are comfortable with who you are, isn't it time that you had comfortable skin?"
Then there is a monologue about all the things that guys do to please the women in their lives which finishes, " And because I do this, I will drive the car I want to drive."
I would have to agree with the verdict, "Now that was a bachelor party." Apparently the featured guest was a killer whale.
Then there is the poor guy who performs in a pick-up football game like Betty White. A candy bar restores his man-hood.
My favorite shows a guy calling on a lovely lady, who has a young son. His leering looks, and excessive smoothness show him to the the kind of guy we don't want to date our daughters or sisters. I felt like cheering when the guy who is clearly the real-man in the commercial, says, "Keep your hands off my momma! Keep your hands off my Doritos!"
There is no doubt that with the blurring of gender-roles, the feminization of formerly masculine bastions of life, and the current economic downturn that has left more and more dads as stay-at-homes, while their wives bring home the bacon, has caused many guys to wonder, "How do I do manhood in the 21st Century?
It takes more than soap, or cars or chips or awesome parties. It is strange that the popular caricature of Biblical Christianity is that it is a religion for women and children. Nothing could be further from the truth. Get in the Word. Meet some real men.
It's STTA.
Here is a post by Al Mohler on the subject: Masculinity in a Can.
As usual, the show in the show brought as much attention as the big game, itself. I noticed a theme that ran through many of the ads. I guess since these commercials were part of big testosterone fueled sporting event it's not surprising that a lot of them had to do with questions of manhood.
A pitch for soap, that is usually associated with ladies, and their quest for lovelier skin, asks guys, "Now that you are comfortable with who you are, isn't it time that you had comfortable skin?"
Then there is a monologue about all the things that guys do to please the women in their lives which finishes, " And because I do this, I will drive the car I want to drive."
I would have to agree with the verdict, "Now that was a bachelor party." Apparently the featured guest was a killer whale.
Then there is the poor guy who performs in a pick-up football game like Betty White. A candy bar restores his man-hood.
My favorite shows a guy calling on a lovely lady, who has a young son. His leering looks, and excessive smoothness show him to the the kind of guy we don't want to date our daughters or sisters. I felt like cheering when the guy who is clearly the real-man in the commercial, says, "Keep your hands off my momma! Keep your hands off my Doritos!"
There is no doubt that with the blurring of gender-roles, the feminization of formerly masculine bastions of life, and the current economic downturn that has left more and more dads as stay-at-homes, while their wives bring home the bacon, has caused many guys to wonder, "How do I do manhood in the 21st Century?
It takes more than soap, or cars or chips or awesome parties. It is strange that the popular caricature of Biblical Christianity is that it is a religion for women and children. Nothing could be further from the truth. Get in the Word. Meet some real men.
It's STTA.
Here is a post by Al Mohler on the subject: Masculinity in a Can.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Sipping Tea When We Need A Cure:
I figured it would happen when I went to bed last night.
I woke up this morning with just a hint of a scratch in my throat and a voice that sounds like Sam Elliott. Now if I could just get one of his movie roles.
I mixed up a cup of tea, lemon, and honey. I've been sipping on it for the last hour. It feels good while it's going down, and for a moment afterward, but still I have this tickle that feels like an impending cough, and my tenor voice hasn't returned.
Oh, don't get me wrong--and, please, all you lovely natural-cure type folk, don't flood me with your recipe for a cure--I will mix another batch when this one is done (about the same time I finish this STTA) but I am fairly sure that my cup of elixer, comforting though it may be, isn't going to cure me. A little comfort and soothing is about the best I can hope for today.
OK, no problem.
Unless my tickle becames one of those raspy, raw, painful coughs, and hangs on, and on, and even on some more. Clearly there comes a point when I need to stop sipping tea and sucking cough-drops and actually seek some help. Maybe there is something serious going on.
Every day I see people with something very serious--in fact deadly, in an eternal sense--who are spiritually letting somethng soothing mask their plight temporarily. For the successful agri-businessman in Luke 12 it was his material possessions. For the religionists, who found out too late just how deadly their problem was, it was their good works (Matthew 7:22-23). For many in my day it is the constant stream of distractions that keeps us from focusing on what really matters.
Don't sip your tea too long!
It's STTA
I woke up this morning with just a hint of a scratch in my throat and a voice that sounds like Sam Elliott. Now if I could just get one of his movie roles.
I mixed up a cup of tea, lemon, and honey. I've been sipping on it for the last hour. It feels good while it's going down, and for a moment afterward, but still I have this tickle that feels like an impending cough, and my tenor voice hasn't returned.
Oh, don't get me wrong--and, please, all you lovely natural-cure type folk, don't flood me with your recipe for a cure--I will mix another batch when this one is done (about the same time I finish this STTA) but I am fairly sure that my cup of elixer, comforting though it may be, isn't going to cure me. A little comfort and soothing is about the best I can hope for today.
OK, no problem.
Unless my tickle becames one of those raspy, raw, painful coughs, and hangs on, and on, and even on some more. Clearly there comes a point when I need to stop sipping tea and sucking cough-drops and actually seek some help. Maybe there is something serious going on.
Every day I see people with something very serious--in fact deadly, in an eternal sense--who are spiritually letting somethng soothing mask their plight temporarily. For the successful agri-businessman in Luke 12 it was his material possessions. For the religionists, who found out too late just how deadly their problem was, it was their good works (Matthew 7:22-23). For many in my day it is the constant stream of distractions that keeps us from focusing on what really matters.
Don't sip your tea too long!
It's STTA
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Feeling Small in a Good Way:
Being in a wild cave, especially with the lights out, watching the ocean, standing on a mountain and looking at a the stars on a clear night, or being out in the cold--being out long enough so that I feel the warmth leaving my body--these are experiences that make me feel small. Processed rightly, that is a good thing.
The Psalmist asks the question, "Who can stand before His cold?" (147:17)
As I dart from one bubble of warmth to another, wrapped in my protective layers, Lord, help me to pause long enough, to be reminded by the sting on my cheek that I am just really not capable of making it on my own.
Several places in scripture the question is asked or implied, "What is man?"
I am the pinnacle of God's earthly creation, but I am a creature.
I am capable of great deeds and words and thoughts, but I am helpless apart from his provision.
I am a sinner, but I am a sinner so loved by God that He gave His Son for my salvation.
If you listen to God's voice in the cold wind you can hear that. It reminds me of my weakness and smallness. Yet in spite of the fact that in an unprotected state I would soon die from exposure, I am still here--a testament to God's grace and goodness.
The cold helps me not only see who I am, but even more importantly Who God is.
As you watch the the condensation cloud from your breath, it's STTA.
The Psalmist asks the question, "Who can stand before His cold?" (147:17)
As I dart from one bubble of warmth to another, wrapped in my protective layers, Lord, help me to pause long enough, to be reminded by the sting on my cheek that I am just really not capable of making it on my own.
Several places in scripture the question is asked or implied, "What is man?"
I am the pinnacle of God's earthly creation, but I am a creature.
I am capable of great deeds and words and thoughts, but I am helpless apart from his provision.
I am a sinner, but I am a sinner so loved by God that He gave His Son for my salvation.
If you listen to God's voice in the cold wind you can hear that. It reminds me of my weakness and smallness. Yet in spite of the fact that in an unprotected state I would soon die from exposure, I am still here--a testament to God's grace and goodness.
The cold helps me not only see who I am, but even more importantly Who God is.
As you watch the the condensation cloud from your breath, it's STTA.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
"If I Were God . . ."
I told you yesterday about substantive change.
You do realize, don't you, that God doesn't need to seek my approval on changes that He brings or allows?
I have a rather homey way of expressing the fact that often God's ways are beyond us, "If God didn't do anything that I couldn't understand, He wouldn't be much of a God, would He?" (The statement isn't original with me, but where I first heard it is lost in the muck of my mind, which serves to further illustrate my point.)
Romans 11 puts the concept this way:
Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways! 34) For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who became His counselor? 35) Or who has first given to Him that it might be paid back to him again? 36) For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever. Amen." (Romans 11:33-36, NASB95)
My response to God ought to be one of yielding not argumentation. I'm not saying I always agree with the choices God makes. Some things I don't get. Just recently I made one of those, "If I were God . . ." statements. Every time I speak such words, I am immediately flooded with thanksgiving that I'm not the Soveriegn of the Universe, and that God is not like me--at least in regard to the matter under discussion.
If God is God He sees things in infinite scope. I only see one side of a speck. He sees all that is past and all that will be. I exist in a nano-second, and I've forgotten part of that.
God is God, and I'm not. He can bring whatever change He chooses--substantive or not--and if I'm wise, I'll respond in faith and obedience.
It's STTA.
You do realize, don't you, that God doesn't need to seek my approval on changes that He brings or allows?
I have a rather homey way of expressing the fact that often God's ways are beyond us, "If God didn't do anything that I couldn't understand, He wouldn't be much of a God, would He?" (The statement isn't original with me, but where I first heard it is lost in the muck of my mind, which serves to further illustrate my point.)
Romans 11 puts the concept this way:
Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways! 34) For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who became His counselor? 35) Or who has first given to Him that it might be paid back to him again? 36) For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever. Amen." (Romans 11:33-36, NASB95)
My response to God ought to be one of yielding not argumentation. I'm not saying I always agree with the choices God makes. Some things I don't get. Just recently I made one of those, "If I were God . . ." statements. Every time I speak such words, I am immediately flooded with thanksgiving that I'm not the Soveriegn of the Universe, and that God is not like me--at least in regard to the matter under discussion.
If God is God He sees things in infinite scope. I only see one side of a speck. He sees all that is past and all that will be. I exist in a nano-second, and I've forgotten part of that.
God is God, and I'm not. He can bring whatever change He chooses--substantive or not--and if I'm wise, I'll respond in faith and obedience.
It's STTA.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Some thoughts from a day when it was harder to worship:
(I need to preface today's thoughts with a disclaimer: I intend no self-righteousness or accusation concerning the decisions others made. Our decision to have church services yesterday was made possible, in large part, because one of our members operates snow-removal equipment, and because we have a young strong guy on staff. Thanks Jake!)
I appreciate the reminder that going to church on a day when it is hard to get there provides. Generally my attendance at Covington Bible Church, involves a pleasant walk of a couple of hundred yards, and an entrance into a comfortable building lovingly prepared for the day's activities. It's warm in winter and cool in summer. The seats are comfortable. For many of my brothers and sisters in THE CHURCH it is very different. It has been my privilege to worship with a group of believers in Ecuador, some of whom walked several hours on muddy trails to be there. In Kiev, I sang in English, while all around me people praised the Lord in Ukrainian in an unheated building on a cold March day. Whatever the language, you could see the little clouds our breath made as we worshipped the Lord of the earth. At a huge gathering of believers in Weno, the capital of Chuuk State in Micronesia, I was surrounded by folk young and old. For many, their attendance at this gathering cost them a significant portion of their yearly income. Even though my resources exceeded that of most in the huge concrete building, the concern of the believers there was to bless me--illustrated by gifts of flowers and food.
Days like yesterday give me a little reminder of what other believers experience every week. Does God deserve to be worshipped?
I think just about all the readers of this piece would say, "Certainly!" It is one thing, however, to answer that with an answer that is only intellectual, and an entirely different matter to answer it with a snow-shovel, or by pulling on boots to wade to church.
Yesterday, the spiritual arithmetic that brings me to the undisputable conclusion that, "Yes, God is God, and He, and He, alone, deserves to be worshipped," was clear and unmistakable. He is God and I'm not. I need to act on that basis.
I'm praying that the amplified realization that the weekend snow brought to me will remain now that the sun is melting the white-stuff. I hear the words of David echoing in my ears. "I will not present burnt offerings to the Lord my God that have cost me nothing." (2 Samuel 24:24)
It's STTA
I appreciate the reminder that going to church on a day when it is hard to get there provides. Generally my attendance at Covington Bible Church, involves a pleasant walk of a couple of hundred yards, and an entrance into a comfortable building lovingly prepared for the day's activities. It's warm in winter and cool in summer. The seats are comfortable. For many of my brothers and sisters in THE CHURCH it is very different. It has been my privilege to worship with a group of believers in Ecuador, some of whom walked several hours on muddy trails to be there. In Kiev, I sang in English, while all around me people praised the Lord in Ukrainian in an unheated building on a cold March day. Whatever the language, you could see the little clouds our breath made as we worshipped the Lord of the earth. At a huge gathering of believers in Weno, the capital of Chuuk State in Micronesia, I was surrounded by folk young and old. For many, their attendance at this gathering cost them a significant portion of their yearly income. Even though my resources exceeded that of most in the huge concrete building, the concern of the believers there was to bless me--illustrated by gifts of flowers and food.
Days like yesterday give me a little reminder of what other believers experience every week. Does God deserve to be worshipped?
I think just about all the readers of this piece would say, "Certainly!" It is one thing, however, to answer that with an answer that is only intellectual, and an entirely different matter to answer it with a snow-shovel, or by pulling on boots to wade to church.
Yesterday, the spiritual arithmetic that brings me to the undisputable conclusion that, "Yes, God is God, and He, and He, alone, deserves to be worshipped," was clear and unmistakable. He is God and I'm not. I need to act on that basis.
I'm praying that the amplified realization that the weekend snow brought to me will remain now that the sun is melting the white-stuff. I hear the words of David echoing in my ears. "I will not present burnt offerings to the Lord my God that have cost me nothing." (2 Samuel 24:24)
It's STTA
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