Friday, December 5, 2014

CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS

A few thoughts about "The Christmas Story" that threaten to shatter your cherished "manger scene" image, so stop here if that image is sacrosanct to you!

Okay, I warned you. Here we go:

It is quite possible, maybe even probable that Joseph and Mary were not hunting around for a "hotel" (i.e., "inn") with vacancies. Rather, the text can be taken to mean that when it was time to have the baby, they had to go out to the "stable" (more like a "mud room", probably) because there was nowhere in the house--not "there wasn't a room in the inn", but "there wasn't room in the house"--appropriate for such a process...because the house where they were staying (with Joseph's relatives--after all, they went there because it was his family's hometown!) was perhaps crowded, perhaps small and, in any case, you could hardly just lie down and produce a baby right there in front of all the relatives.

This also rather lets poor Joseph off the hook, as the traditional picture we conjure up is of Joseph hauling his poor wife, already in labor (!), around town on a donkey, inquiring at inns for vacancies--dear Joseph, that was certainly bad timing on your part! The reality is far more likely that they got to Bethlehem in plenty of time and there was no last-minute "donkey ride in labor" around town.

Then there's the beautiful but entirely fallacious notion that three wise men followed a star from the distant east to Bethlehem, showing up on the night Jesus was born.

Wrong on every count.

The Magi (we don't know how many there were) saw the star "in the east", i.e., they were in the east when they saw it--the star appeared to them, therefore, to be in the west, not "a star in the east"--at the time Jesus was born. The Magi, likely Persian astrologers, were thus very far away, nowhere in the neighborhood, and entirely incapable of posing for a "manger scene" the night Jesus was born. And no star led them to "the manger" that night! Way out there in Persia they saw a star that night... or that week... or that month--the Scripture doesn't actually tell us when precisely, except to make it clear it generally coincided with Jesus' birth.

And then... this "star" (which is a word describing its appearance, not necessarily defining what it was, and it almost certainly wasn't a "star" in the usual sense) disappeared.

Now, the Magi needed no star in the sky to lead them to Palestine any more than you need a star in the sky to lead you to Trenton, New Jersey or Warsaw, Poland. They knew perfectly well where Palestine was and, moreover, it was no star in the sky that told them the King of the Jews had been born. The star signalled an event of tremendous significance, but it was upon their own further research (probably taking many months or even close to two years) that they concluded the event was the birth of the King of the Jews, the promised Messiah. The "star" was long gone by this time.

About two years after the event, they finally made their way to Palestine, and naturally they headed to the capital to ask where this King of the Jews was--the most commonsense thing to do. All they know is, a king has been born: where better to seek him than in the capital? They have no other means for locating him--remember, they haven't been following a star!

After their encounter with Herod, during which he ascertained from them that they had seen this "star" two years previous (hence Herod's ordering the killing of all the boys from two years old down, "according to the time he found out from the Magi"), the Magi, heading to Bethlehem according to the advice of the Jewish Torah experts, suddenly saw the star again--now this was a stark, stunning re-appearance of the sign they had seen two years before, manifestly supernatural and local (stars way, way up there in the sky don't lead you to a single house and then stop above it), which is why the scriptures indicate that they were utterly astounded and flabbergasted. This was when, in fact, they "followed the star," like the carols proclaim and the Christmas cards depict... more or less. And the Magi--probably a huge caravan including dozens of people and many pack animals--followed it indeed directly to the house where the Child lived.

Personally, I suspect that this "star" was the very presence of God, the Shekinah glory that appeared in the Temple.

So it's a wildly, radically different set of circumstance from the sentimental, traditional image of all the shepherds and Magi showing up at a stable, which made up for the lack of a hotel room, the night Jesus was born.

Also, the casual but definite mention of "the house" (suggesting we have already been talking about it, i.e., in the account of His birth) where the Child lived suggests this is, in fact, the very same house (the "Joseph" family homestead) where Jesus was born two years earlier. Which further argues against the "stable out behind the inn" tradition.

And the fact that Joseph and family were still there two years later (why hadn't they gone home, after all, to Nazareth, once the census was complete?) suggests to me that, upon reflection, they had decided it would be better to settle down for good in Bethlehem, rather than go back to Nazareth where there were a lot of nosy neighbors, and rumors, and gossip.... On the whole, the family enjoyed a far more "stellar" (pun intended) reputation in Bethlehem, what with stories of angelic choirs heralding the birth of "the Lord's Christ" (Yahweh's Anointed One). It would be typical of "local religion" for the villagers to consider Jesus their good luck charm.

The Slaughter of the Innocents would have brought all such notions to an end. Even with Herod dead and gone, Bethlehem would no longer be a friendly environment, to say the least. "It's your fault Herod killed our sons!" So there was no going back to Bethlehem after their "retreat" in Egypt. In fact, the Scriptures never mention that Jesus stepped foot in Bethlehem again ever.

At the risk of self-contradiction, I wouldn't hesitate, all the same, to put a "manger scene" under my Christmas tree with all the traditional cast of characters--the shepherds, the Magi, the angels, the star, the cows and sheep, and of course the Holy Family. It may not be historically accurate, but you only get one Christmas a year! So I'd look on my manger scene as an "historical synopsis". There was, after all, a stable (or "pen" or "back room" of some kind--as I understand it, it was essentially just a part of the house where one might expect animals to be bedded down, perhaps something like what we'd call "the mud room") and a manger, and shepherds that night... and the Magi did show up two years later, so I'd call my manger scene a "time-telescoped synopsis"... or just plain "poetic license"!

We tend to imagine the entire Christmas Story as a single supernatural fabric sustained with glorious background music...and "real life" can seem a very dull, disappointing thing by comparison--and so we do a disservice to both "the Christmas Story" and "real life".

The events of Jesus' birth, to outward appearances, were primarily commonplace, even harried and humiliating...and without the benefit of a Hollywood orchestra...except for the jarring punctuation of the shepherds' arrival with news nobody was expecting about angels out there in the fields--angels nobody but the shepherds actually got to see! That can hardly have been persuasive to many, except for Mary and Joseph. They had a reason already, in their hearts, to grasp the shepherds' news as an astounding, external confirmation of what up to then had been known only to the most intimate circle (Joseph, Mary, Elizabeth, Zachariah...others?) and truly inexplicable an un-demonstrable to anyone else--a glorious secret that was painfully secret! They themselves didn't see the angels, or in fact the "star" the Persian magi saw from the distant east, and they never imagined a caravan of these Persians would be showing up two years later.

Basically, it was "life as normal" punctuated with the rarest, vivid flashes of the "beyond", but sustained by a profound inner awareness of the greater dimension running through everything. It doesn't sound so different from our lives, does it. Of course, it was different in that this was Christ the Lord born into the family...but born precisely in order to live that mundane, muddy, harried, soundtrack-less life real people live in the real world. That's what it means that "the Word became flesh"--not just that the Uncreated became the Created, but that He entered the tedium, boredom, the unremarkable, the dirty, monotonous, anonymous, lonely, stifling, dragging haul of it all. And glory was in it, because of the "khesed"-heart-bond with the Father. As the saying goes, ay, there's the rub. There's the mystery--and we're supposed to enter it. That's why it happened:  "And I and the Father will come to him, and make our home in him."

Some have suggested that Joseph and his family were far from poor, contrary to the commonly unquestioned assumption. As, possibly, a stone mason, not a carpenter--a view that seems to be gaining in credence--Joseph certainly could have had what we'd call a going concern, a thriving business. It has been suggested that when Paul talks about Jesus making himself nothing, there is less a metaphysical/theological point being made, i.e., about the Incarnation, than a simple statement that Jesus, having every opportunity to live a comfortable, successful life in the world on worldly terms, gave it all up and, quite literally, became one of the poor. I can't say, of course, whether that is true or not, but I feel sure of this much: if it is the case, it certainly doesn't (how could it?) detract in any way or diminish the divine grace disclosed in the "Christ-Event", the whole essence of Jesus' appearing and redemptive feat. Whatever "the real case" is (which we'll know only at His coming) it will turn out to be the peak and unsurpassable summit of grace and divine self-giving.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Are We There Yet?

This is a variation on the "Fixed and Moving" theme. 


"Are we the-e-e-re yet?" 

That's what we children always asked when on a long trip in the car. Of course, this constant "Are we the-e-e-re yet?" drove my parents crazy! "Stop! Enough! We'll be there when get there, so no more are-we-there-yet!"

Ten minutes later: "Are we the-e-ere yet?"

Parent: "I said not to ask that anymore!" 

Child: "Yeah, but that was a long ti-i-ime ago-o-o-o!" 

One day, after one of my siblings had yet again posed the eternal question "Are we there yet?", I, being the oldest and, of course, considering myself quite clever, announced, "We will never be there!" In answer to the predictable why's and what-do-you-mean's, I elucidated: "We'll never be there because no matter where we are we're always 'here'! So even when we get there, we'll say, 'We're here!' And that's why we'll never be 'there', only 'here'!" And I felt very smart and wise as only an 11-year-old boy can. 

And now I want to ask you: Are you there yet? Have you arrived? Completed the journey? Finished the race? No, I don't think any of us will say, "Yes, I'm there." 

But I don't worry so much over whether we're "there"; I worry more about whether we're here--really and genuinely here. Because, you see, while it is a given that we're all here physically--wherever we may find ourselves at the moment--it's far from a given that we are perfectly here in the critical realm of spirit and soul--truly, vividly present. Are we present to God, or are we spiritually absent? Are we vitally open and accessible to Him, to His will and love? Are we "here" in obedience and sensitivity to the Spirit of God. That's what it means to be "here", present in the presence of God. 

No, of course none of us is entirely "there" yet....

Paul says, in Philippians 3:13, "I do not consider myself to have attained, but forgetting what lies behind and pressing forward I strive toward the goal, to the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." 

There's the issue: whether we're pressing on to the goal defines whether we're genuinely here for God right now. Truly here, now, fully, for God. Where are you? 

I think the most vivid analogy, especially for young people (and not only) is the whole matter of falling in love--when a person only wants to be in the company of the object of their all-consuming affections, and every moment with them, every scintilla of a moment, is permeated with electric reality. At those moments a person's attention doesn't wander; he's completely there on every imaginable level of his being, utterly alive in the moment. 

Where are we in our lives with Jesus Christ? Completely here on every imaginable level? How can we be here for Him

John 14:15 - "If you love me, you will obey my commandments."

John 15:10 - If you obey my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commandments and remain in his love."

"If you love Me, you will keep My commandments...." 

Notice that the Lord directly ties love to obedience. Why? He says, "If you love Me...." It depends on love! Because it is love itself that spurs, that stimulates and moves us to do what He says, that makes us want to see His will made real. Only if we're convinced to the bottom of our souls that His ways and will are just perfect and magnificent (you see, that's how we feel if we love Him!) will we strain with irrepressible, in-suppressible desire and alacrity to realize His design and aims, because we know there's nothing even conceivably better

Of course, such an internal "vision" isn't possible at all if we don't spend serious time with God in the intimacy of prayer and contemplation of His word. 

Where are you in that respect? It's a safe bet that none of us is where we know we ought to be.

Here is an encouraging word: the most glorious fact of the matter is, God is merciful: "His mercies are new every morning". And He loves each of us, and waits for the cry of our hearts and the appeal of our spirits so that He might respond with a manifestation of grace unveiled and the power of Life. We can always, always, always say to God, "Yes, I'm here, now, totally, for You. Receive my spirit's cry, Lord."

"If you love me, you will obey my commandments." Which commandments? The Ten Commandments? The Beatitudes? Or the command to sell all we have, give it to the poor and go and follow Him? Which commandments? It's not such an easy question. So which commandments: the commandment to attend church? To read the Bible? We want to know the answer because we want to love the Lord in practice and completely "be here", present and alive to the Lord, at every moment. So, Lord: which way should I make sure I know your real will, every day of my life? 

The Lord says, "I am the way, the truth and the life."

It's a simple but not an easy answer. We ask, we demand, a list of rules and regulations; instead, our Savior responds by presenting nothing less than Himself. 

A list of rules can be memorized but a living Lord can only be known--and all the more and deeper with every step of life--because in Christ the opportunity is ceaselessly present to be present, now, completely for Him

Where are you? 

Somebody might, I suppose, object, "But I still need some kind of firm law, a set of guidelines, to give my life a reliable framework." 

Well, I'll agree in this sense: life without law is no life at all. Imagine life without any laws! For example, without the law of gravity! Or the law of cause-and-effect! Not only would the coffee refuse to pour into your coffee cup simply because you were tipping the coffee pot, but even if it did, it wouldn't stay there! Or, on a more abstract level, but no less meaningful by any means, imagine life without the "law" of love, or of justice. Ultimately, laws are the principles of reality, the framework of everything that is. No "laws", no reality! 

But here's the most amazing thing, and a very problematic thing for us Christians. The highest law of our life is Jesus Christ Himself, Who says, "I am the way, the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me." The Lord also says (John 8:32) "And you will know the truth and the truth will make you free. 

There's your law for you! You will know the truth and the truth will set you free! 

In the Epistle of James, James develops the essence of this truth: (1:25) "But the one who peers into the perfect law of liberty and fixes his attention there, and does not become a forgetful listener but one who lives it out--he will be blessed in what he does", and (2:12) " Speak and act as those who will be judged by the law that gives freedom."

You will know the truth, the truth will make you free, and you will be judged according to that law of freedom. The life of Jesus Christ in us, His presence and power, the power of His resurrection and eternal life, this is the "law of freedom" operating in us and establishing the framework of authentic and full-fledged life: if we really remain, stay rooted, wherever life takes us, fully present, fully "here" to the Lord. 

Galatians 6:2 says, "Carry one another's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." That's the law of Christ in you! If He truly lives in you, then there is no law that can conceivably take precedence to the law of Christ living in you! And if that's the case, then what Paul says at Galatians 4:6 depicts with crystal clarity the living, dynamic force of this all-encompassing law of our lives:  "And because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, who calls, "Abba! Father!" 


Precisely the same essential reality echoes in 1 John 3:1--"See what a love the Father has bestowed on us: that we should be called God's children--and indeed we are!"

Children naturally demonstrate the character traits of their Father, and these naturally demonstrated characters traits, in the lives of God's children, are what Paul calls the "fruit of the Spirit": "...[T]he fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law."

Why does Paul, to begin with, mention this "fruit", and, in the second place, point out that there's no "law" against it? Because certain Hebrew-Christians from Jerusalem, most likely former Pharisees like Paul, had come to Galatia and, even though they believed in Christ, insisted nonetheless on exact, rigorous, scrupulous obedience to the Mosaic Law as the true way to enter into the people of God and their blessings. We can encapsulate their position this way: while we know that the law was given to lead us to Christ, their view was the opposite, i.e., that Christ was given to lead the world to the Mosaic law! 

And so these false brethren, as Paul calls them, were telling the Christians in Galatia, "It's good, of course, that you have received the Messiah Jesus, but only Moses' Law will reveal to you how you should live and how to get rid of everything in your lives that doesn't please God." 

And what does the apostle Paul say? Galatians 5:18-25

"But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity, depravity, idolatry, sorcery, hostilities, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish rivalries, dissensions, factions, envying, murder, drunkenness, carousing, and similar things. I am warning you, as I had warned you before: Those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God!
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Now those who belong to Christ have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also behave in accordance with the Spirit." (NET Bible)

If I may paraphrase the apostle, what he is saying, in other words, is this:

"You have no need anymore for a law that tells you how bad all these things are! You know it perfectly well! And if you live in harmony with the Spirit given to you by God, then the holy life of God's kingdom will naturally come out in you! To repeat: if you simply live in harmony with the Spirit given to you by God, then the holy life of God's kingdom will naturally fulfill itself in you--in love, joy, peace, patience and the like. And what's the point, then, of any set of rules, when such a life is already working perfectly well without them? What purpose would such a law serve? To tell you not to live that way?" 

When is the "Law of Christ" displayed in action? Not "then" and "there" but "here" and "now"! The constant question is, is the Spirit of God manifesting in my life, here, now, fully, for God? 

In Romans 1:5, Paul speaks of the "obedience of faith". Faith itself is an act of obedience, and it fully materializes in obedience to this core, central, intrinsic law of Christ. Standing before Pilate, the Lord boldly declared, "For this reason I was born, and for this reason I came into the world - to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice." This is the essence of the law of Christ at work in our lives, our vital link to the truth that sets us free, free from everything that resists the unimpeachable life of God that will not be governed or regulated by an inferior law. There is no law that can compete with a life charged with this vision

Compete well for the faith and lay hold of that eternal life you were called for and made your good confession for in the presence of many witnesses. I charge you before God who gives life to all things and Christ Jesus who made his good confession before Pontius Pilate, to obey this command without fault or failure until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ – whose appearing the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords, will reveal at the right time. He alone possesses immortality and lives in unapproachable light, whom no human has ever seen or is able to see. To him be honor and eternal power! Amen. (1 Timothy 6:12-17; NET Bible)

Whatever our age, whatever our education, whatever our nationality, however long we have been following Christ, and whatever our dreams in life may be, we are all the recipients of this charge and supreme calling from the Throne of Heaven! 

And we all have the same spiritual need: that God be here, fully, now, for us, in His love. 

He will; His own love compels Him. 

He will surround, enfold and indwell us, and endue us with everything we need--at every moment, in every place--to live in the holy freedom, by the holy law, of Christ, as the victorious children of Christ's resurrection... all the way....  

Until we're there

Friday, October 10, 2014

Fixed and Moving

This sermon was inspired by three consecutive daily entries in my other blog, Serendipitous Intersections--October 3rd, 4th and 5th (Year Two). The headings for those days' entries are: 


3   Fixed and Moving: our position is determined by our direction, our insistent metamorphosis defined by our unfolding stasis

4   The merciless spark: we stand without excuse before glimmers and hints, whispers and hues of the Kingdom--how much more, then, before the Eternal Expression  in Jesus Christ? 

5   Disobedient prayer is spirit's self-exile and no prayer at all; rebellious faith is disbelief; but surrender to deliverance is Glory's concrete entry and Forgiveness enfleshed 

Concepts of movement, responsibility and reconciliation converged to evoke the following sermon from me, which I presented in chapel at our Bible college a few days after my return from an extended stay in America. 

A linguistic note: because I was preaching to a Russian-speaking audience, I needed to explain the two nuances of English "move", since the Russian verb "move" is not used to express emotional response ("I was deeply moved by your words") as the English verb is. Interestingly, both Russian and English use the verb "touch" in this emotional sense.  

The concept I want us to contemplate today can be summed up by these two words: "fixed" and "moving". It may seem to us, sitting here in this auditorium, that we are more or less fixed in our places, sitting quietly in our chairs, if you don't count a little bit of shuffling around in our seats. Here we are in a fixed, still room, in a building firmly rooted to its spot, in this city, in this country, on this continent, on this planet--but oops, wait: the planet is spinning! 

And not only is the planet spinning, it is circling the sun in our solar system, and the solar system is riding a spiral tail of our galaxy, and our whole galaxy is floating through the universe!

So all of us, right here and now, are moving in all those ways, even as we sit very still and quiet in this room. 

Moreover, it is because we are moving in all those ways that we are fixed in a precise location. If we weren't riding the tail of a floating galaxy on a planet circling the sun and spinning around, we would not be here right now. The one is dependent on the other. 

The same can be said of our spiritual life: we are fixed and moving at the same time, and the one is dependent on the other...because where we're moving to determines where we are located right now, constantly and continually. 

Let's read John 3:19: "Now this is the basis for judging: that the light has come into the world and people loved the darkness rather than the light, because their deeds were evil." (The NET Bible)

This is the basis for judgment, because this has happened, the fact is accomplished, it is a fixed reality that leaves all people without excuse: LIGHT HAS COME INTO THE WORLD; THE WORD BECAME FLESH AND HAS DWELT AMONG US. 

Actually, I believe that man is and has always been without excuse before God, not only because of the Incarnation of Christ but because we inescapably sense the whispers of Truth, we feel the deep rumblings of righteousness like distant thunder, we catch the fleeting glimpses of the eternal Kingdom and we are, consequently, responsible for our choice, whether to listen (or at least try) or to tell ourselves, "No, there was nothing there--I didn't hear anything, I didn't see anything." 

And if that's so, then how much more is Man without excuse before God when the Word has become flesh and dwelt among us? This is no hint or whisper merely from God; this is an explosion of heaven's light into the world in the face of God's Only-Begotten Son; this is the the Light of the World, this is a fixed, inescapable fact of human history. The God Who once said, "Let there be light" has become one of us, full of redeeming grace. 

This fact is fixed and it must move us. 

In English, our verb "move" has a nuance that it doesn't have in Russian. In Russian we say that a story was very "touching", meaning that we were emotionally affected by it. In English we say that same thing! "That was such a touching story." But in English we can also say, literally, that that was a very moving story--the story moved me, and here the verb "move" has the same meaning as "touch". It's as if I felt my heart shift inside me, as if I was drawn, pulled, by the story; this is why we say "I was moved" to mean that I was "touched" or deeply affected emotionally. 

Now, the Greek philosophers, trying to figure out Creation and cosmology, came up with a concept of God as the Fixed, or Unmoved, Mover; they pictured the Creator as one who is still and unmoving and causes everything else to move, because movement is a necessary quality of all created things, but not of the Creator. To move is to change, and the Creator neither moves nor changes. 

But when we English-speakers hear that phrase "Unmoved Mover" we quite possibly misunderstand the sense of the word "move". We take it in its usual sense, that is, to push things around this way and that. So we imagine this Greek Unmoved Mover shuffling the pieces of creation around on his playing board. But the philosophers had, arguably, the other sense of the word "move" in mind--the sense that is very close to the notion of being "touched" emotionally, that is, to be drawn, pulled, deeply affected. Picture this Unmoved Mover "moving" the whole universe precisely because the whole universe is deeply moved, by love, to come closer and closer to the Creator. This Fixed Mover doesn't shuffle pieces around on any playing board; rather, he "moves" the whole creation simply by being there and attracting it. 

Remember, I am talking here about pagan philosophy, about the concepts Man has conceived by the lesser lights of the visible creation and his God-given intuition--but doesn't the apostle Paul tell us in the first chapter of Romans that even such "Natural Revelation" possesses a compelling degree of validity and, crucially, leaves Man without excuse? 

Far from neutralizing and obliterating the valid aspects of the Natural Revelation and Greek notions of an Unmoved Mover, the Christian Revelation transcends and subsumes them. If an Unmoved Mover is conceptualized as "moving" us towards itself, by something like love, then how much more are we to be moved by this

"THE LIGHT HAS COME INTO THE WORLD"

Are we moved? Are we touched? Are we pulled and drawn?

Every person is moving somewhere, both physically and spiritually, whether they are conscious of it or not. All people are moving, either towards the Light of the World or away from it. And it is their direction that determines their position before God. We are, all of us, always FIXED and MOVING, and the one depends on the other. 

Christ says, "And this is the judgment." It is a fixed, certain, unwavering judgment: the light has come into the world. It is the axis of history, of time and eternity. Let's read on, John 3:20-21: "For everyone who does evil deeds hates the light and does not come to the light, so that their deeds will not be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God." (NET Bible)

The Lord unveils the true spiritual dynamic behind all human action. No matter what the historian tells you, or the psychologists, or the sociologists, or the politicians, in actuality the one motive force behind all human action is this: we are either coming to the Light of the World, or we are retreating from it, hiding from it, rejecting it. 

In fact, this was the condition--the fluid, tentative, precarious condition--of the human spirit even before the Incarnation of Christ. If we understand that, then we can appreciate even more what incomprehensible grace is ultimately unfolded in this EVENT:"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." 

For all who want to come to the Light, for all who are willing to hear those whispers of righteousness, for all who choose not to recoil from those fleeting glimpses of the eternal kingdom, for them and their hearts there is a home, there is a "Son Given", there is a destination, a place to be and a place to move to in love. 

Unlike the Unmoved Mover of Greek philosophy, the true God moves and He is moved, in the English sense of the word. God so loved the world; the Son of Man came to seek that which was lost; Jesus wept over Jerusalem and before his friend's grave; we do not have a high priest who cannot be touched by the feelings of our infirmities.... Contrary to Greek philosophy, Heaven's true revelation discloses a God Who is continually moving towards His children in self-giving love, so that our hearts can find their true, fixed home forever. 

Where am I right now? That depends entirely on where I'm going right now. 

I want to leave you with one small phrase employed by the apostle Paul, for you to consider it in the light of the other things we've thought about so far. In his second epistle to the Corinthians, Paul writes: "God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people's sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation." (2 Corinthians 5:19, NIV Bible)

Notice that Paul doesn't say "the ministry of forgiveness"--because forgiveness belongs to God; it is God's business, and God has accomplished it in absolute perfection. 

Notice that Paul doesn't say "the ministry of repentance"--because repentance is the responsibility of each sinner himself. 

Paul says "the ministry of reconciliation" because his task and ours is to persuade, even beg people to move, to turn, to come into the true place and the true direction eternally appointed for their God-created hearts. 

God has done everything necessary, and that's a fixed fact, and when we evangelize we must never doubt that. The Light of the world, revealed in the face of Jesus Christ, is the human heart's true home, and when we evangelize we must never doubt that

Our confidence in God's answer to the human crisis must be fixed and unmoving, so that we might be moved, touched, compelled by God's love to hold out that answer to human souls hurtling towards eternity. 

We can say to them, "Come with us, and dwell in the Father's kingdom, where there will always be somewhere farther to go in His constant, unwavering love."  
















Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Art or Guessing Game?

I have no time for the so-called “poetry” that is nothing more than a guessing game, i.e., “here’s an incoherent pile of words, now you try to guess what I mean”.

It’s astonishing how many people buy hook-line-and-sinker into the tripe that goes: “You should never ASK what a work of art MEANS, because that just shows you have no powers of appreciation and want somebody to hand you the meaning on a silver platter.” Thus, so-called artists get away with foisting no-talent rubbish on the public… a blank canvas except for a red spot in the middle… a “sculpture” consisting of, say, a thousand wads of chewed bubble gum smushed together in a blob… or a poem that goes, say:

l IF e it
IS
4398279468
it?

And we’re supposed to “ooh” and “ah” at the iconoclastic genius… yawn….

It’s really amazing how MUCH can be produced when none of it has to mean anything or requires any true “art” (effort, finesse, creative tension) AND the public is too chicken to stand up and recognize that the emperor has no clothes on.

Genuine art can STAND UP to explanation. That’s precisely what MAKES art more than a guessing game. If the only thing that’s meaningful about a work of art is “What was the artist THINKING of?”, it implies that, if indeed you could get said artist to TELL you, the work itself would have ipso facto exhausted its raison d’etre. That hardly speaks well of the work, does it! But if you research, for example, any number of the great orchestral works of the 19th century, you will find that the composers weren’t shy in the least about explaining in great detail what their works meant to them, what concepts and feelings provoked and generated their creations—never, apparently, considering that they were somehow ruining their own art by doing so, or catering to “philistines”. Indeed, I imagine that, had anyone responded with, “Well, now that you told us, you’ve RUINED it!”, that’s the person who’d have richly earned the epithet “philistine.”

I remember a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon from years back, where Calvin invites Hobbes to play a guessing game. Hobbes agrees. Calvin says, “Okay, I’m thinking of a number. You guess what it is.” Hobbes looks slightly ferhoodled at this notion, but gives it the old college try: “Uh… two?” “Nope! Guess again!” “Er… 849?” “Nope! Guess again! Isn’t this fun?!” Hobbes gives the audience that Oliver Hardy stare of exasperation and walks away. Calvin stares after him in perplexity and concludes that Hobbes just doesn’t like to play games.

The analogy to my topic here is obvious!

Now, if the game had been, “Guess the number I’m thinking of between 1 and 5, and if you guess right on the first try, you get a Snickers bar,” well, then, there’s some form and definition, parameters and also a motivation. But just, “Guess what number I’m thinking of…”, means, “Try to read my mind… simply because I like it when people try to read my mind… because it makes me feel my mind is important….” Sorry, but nobody’s THAT important. And to invite people to do that implies more than subtly that you doubt they themselves have anything more significant to do with their lives than to stand around trying to guess what you’re thinking. In art, that’s called disrespecting an audience (not to mention thinking far more of yourself than is healthy). It’s precisely what’s going on when the painter, asked what his red spot in the middle of a blank canvas means, sneers, “If I need to EXPLAIN it to you… then it’s probably not worth it….” Well, I’d have to agree on the “not worth it” part—indeed, nothing about the spot on the canvas is “worth it”--but I imagine his main reason for not explaining is, there’s nothing there TO explain, and admitting it blows his cover.

Back to poetry…. When the poet isn’t AFRAID to be comprehensible (which means, having something to say and respecting his audience enough to let them hear it), and at the same time is a master of the art form itself, the result can be as shattering as any great piece of music.
The art form is a fascinating one, aimed at transmitting vivid concepts with the most economical and aesthetically effective use of language. Reading an extended work—like, for instance, Paradise Lost—demands real commitment, patience and “two ears”, i.e., an ear for the content and an ear for the form… and perhaps a third ear that synthesizes the two into a single experience.

At the moment, I’m reading Dorothy L. Sayers’s translation of Dante’s Divine Comedy (Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso); I’m in the final book now. Dante was, in his own way, an iconoclast (I don’t mind “iconoclasts” if they actually represent SUBSTANCE, and not simply “nothing” in place of “something”), daring to produce his life’s major work in Italian rather than the expected Latin. Moreover, I think I’m accurate in saying he invented the particular poetic form used in the Divine Comedy, i.e., the “terza rima” form, by which the rhyming end-words follow this pattern: A-B-A, B-C-B, C-D-C, etc. Sayers was very ambitious, some might have said crazy, in setting her mind not only to translate the “sense” of Dante but actually to reproduce the “terza rima” form in her English version.

(I remember, by the way, reading a PROSE translation of the Inferno when I was in ninth grade—which strikes me now as utterly bizarre—and that I really liked it—which strikes me as even bizarrer!)

The thing about poetry that requires patience—or, at least, ONE of the things that require patience—is its syntactical freedom (freedom in word-order). The verbs can come in FRONT of the subjects; the adjectives can come AFTER the nouns; the direct object can come in FRONT of the verb, etc. What’s funny is how we accept such “non-English” under the guise of poetry when we’d immediately reject it as “ordinary speech”:

Lilies three gave she me

Here are the opening two triplets from the 10th canto of Dante’s Paradiso in Sayers’s translation. The order of words and concepts defies the “ordinary” pattern of English, though not as radically as “Lilies three gave she me”!

The uncreated Might which passeth speech,
Gazing on His Begotten with the Love
That breathes Itself eternally from each,
All things that turn through mind and space made move
In such great order that without some feel
Of Him none e’er beheld the frame thereof.

In “regular talk”, what this passage is saying is:
The uncreated Power (God, specifically the Father, Whose Being cannot be expressed in human language), as an outgrowth of His contemplating the Son in the love that ceaselessly flows between Them, has launched everything that exists, whether physical or “abstract”, into motion so exquisitely that nothing created can ever truly be perceived without some consciousness of God Himself.

To appreciate poetry means taking the time to think out WHAT is being said, and then go back and enjoy, dive into, the powerfully “aesthetic” WAY in which the poet said it, because his/her “way” of saying it has also, in the process, created new, indeed multiple, levels of meaning.

I think it is this multiplicity of meaning inherent in all genuinely great art, and the fact that no one ELSE can discover all those meanings FOR you, or create YOUR entire experience of the work—I think it is THIS that, on a cringingly nebbish, humbug-ish level, the makers of vapid, uncreative, just-stand-there-and-guess “art” are trying to capitalize on, to use as a kind of weapon to fend off all uncomfortable inquiry: “Art has MANY meanings, so don’t DARE ask me what it means!” Well, dear “artist”… if art, as you say, has “many meanings”, then surely you wouldn’t ruin our experience of your work by suggesting one? At least to give us a start? Particularly when this… thing you’ve made says NOTHING to ANYBODY? To argue that “art has many meanings” is no compelling reason for us to assume that this bit of… well, NOTHING that you’ve slapped together means… SOMETHING! It wasn't the little boy who called the emperor naked who was the “philistine”.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Why (IMHO) Tolkien Was Wrong on a Certain Point

I make no claim to being a Tolkien/Lewis expert, though I’ve read everything Lewis published, along with a lot that he didn’t (his letters), and, naturally, I’ve read Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, the Silmarillion (multiple times—it grows in the re-reading) and other things by him—and, finally, I’ve read lots and lots about the two of them. I’d be surprised, therefore, to find that my grasp of the disagreement between them over Lewis’s “Narnia” books is way out in left field.

It seems generally accepted that their “fight” was so intense that, if it didn’t outright end the friendship, it cast a permanent pall over it. The gist of the fight, I understand, was over Lewis’s apparently carefree/careless, tossed-salad style mix of creatures and images from the myths and folklore of different cultures—from Norse legend to Greek myth to… Santa Claus!—in a single, what Tolkien must have considered preposterous, farcical vaudeville show dressed up as “myth” (which, as we know, meant so much to Tolkien; thus, what Lewis was doing had to have struck him as a kind of sacrilege). Apparently, Father Christmas/Santa Claus was, to Tolkien, the crowning insult, for which he could never forgive Lewis.

Lewis didn’t write the Narnia Chronicles, of course, in order to win “forgiveness” from Tolkien or anybody else. The Narnia Chronicles aren’t about J.R.R. Tolkien, and what they are about, Tolkien could not, by his own admission, see. When one doesn’t see something, it doesn’t prove there’s nothing there; it simply indicates that one doesn’t see….

It’s critically important, in order to see what Lewis was aiming at, to understand Lewis’s concept of “story”. Lewis placed the highest value on “internal consistency”—the story has to be true to itself. (The Narnia Chronicles are not, of course, “true” to Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings”; “Lord of the Rings” is one story and “Narnia” is another, neither being the objective standard for the other any more than Dostoyevsky’s “Crime and Punishment” is the criterion of assessment for Trollope’s “The Way We Live Now”.) Lewis was adamant on the point that a story must be a “real story”; that is, the inner world of the story must work on its own terms; the things that happen in it must really be what we could expect to happen there if that world really existed as such. The author carries the burden of really writing a story (thus, a “real story”), not simply taking a story or event from elsewhere,  slightly re-dressing it and pretending he has created something (along the lines of “Veggie Tales”, about which I’m tempted to say much, but will refrain… except to say I’m sure Lewis would have been appalled).   

The inner world of the story is not indebted to match any world outside of it (Tolkien’s or anybody else’s), but if it is not true to itself, then the whole show comes tumbling down. Having said that the story’s inner world is not indebted to “match” any world outside it, I must add that Lewis, at the same time, was fiercely intent that his stories should be “true-to-life” on the level of truth’s very fabric: the supremacy of righteousness, love, faithfulness, justice, mercy, the good, over all that’s evil and “bent”.

Lewis was also adamant on the point that his Narnia stories were not “allegory” in the way people generally take that word. The best, classic example of pure “allegory” is of course Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress”, in which every character, place and event is a “symbol” of something in the “real world,” in our Christian walk. And so, the envy or fear or laziness, or the hope, faith and love that we experience in life become, in Bunyan’s allegory, sentient creatures in their own right. It’s a kind of guessing game and we’re supposed to guess! Allegory, in this sense, is categorically what Lewis and Tolkien had no interest in writing and fiercely denied writing. They did not compose guessing games. The extent to which events in their stories are analogous to events in our own lives or in world history, sacred or otherwise, is a reflection of the way all life is inevitably analogous to itself! Every time forgiveness is shown, for instance, it resonates and correlates, on some level, with every other time forgiveness has ever been shown, ultimately expressed in the Cross itself.

Lewis somewhere explained that the notion behind the Narnia stories was: if God actually did decide to create another world and inhabit it with all these fantastic creatures, what kind of things could we expect—going by the nature of life as we know it—to happen there? That’s what makes Lewis’s story different from allegory. Bunyan’s allegory is about what in fact is happening in our lives, except Bunyan dresses it all up in make-believe costumes. Lewis’s story, on the other hand, is about something that has never happened and never will happen, but… would plausibly work out “something like this” if God ever did make such a world, based on what we know about the true and living God.

Thus, Aslan giving his life to save Edmund is not a thinly disguised allegory of Christ dying on the cross for the sins of the world. This point is critical to understand if we are not to misread Lewis horribly. In the Narnia story, Aslan dying on the stone table for Edmund is an imagined scenario of what the same Christ who died for our sins in this  world would certainly do, if there were a Narnia, where He was incarnate as a lion, and there were a crisis in which the redemption of a son of Adam required Him to make that sacrifice. As “pure allegory”, in fact, Aslan’s death on the stone table doesn’t really work—the more you try to correlate the supposed “allegory” to the “real event”, the more hopelessly it falls apart--but as a different event in a “real story” it works beautifully… and, as story, it poignantly expresses Lewis’s appreciation, his “take”, of the true Christ Who is.

But… to come back to Tolkien! Where Tolkien saw a dilettante-ish, intellectually insulting grab-bag of world myths irresponsibly tossed into a work without any genuine controlling center, for Lewis—I take this from, among other things, what Lewis said about “story”—the controlling center was the creative premise itself: what if God did create such a world, what might happen there? In the story, it is not C.S. Lewis desperately raiding all the cultural treasure troves he can lay his hands on for tasty images, it is rather God choosing—as is His perfect right—to make a world in which all of our Earth’s ancient myths, dreams and legends are enfleshed and made responsible agents in the universal drama (the drama encompassing all worlds, whether Earth or Narnia) of life in the sight of God. And the hint is more than obvious that, in this fiction, God would have created this world, stocked with everything from fauns to centaurs to Santa Claus, finally and inevitably for the delight of the children of Earth, the children of Adam, who—certainly not counter to Aslan’s wishes—“invaded” it. It is the presence of HUMANS in Narnia that adds REASON to the presence of all Earth’s most ancient dreams there. This is a world, and a story, that is internally consistent—it works on its own terms.

Tolkien seems, to me, to have paradoxically blamed Lewis for doing two opposite things at once: for writing a “Tolkienesque” work on the cheap, a farce, something caricatural and mocking of Tolkien, and for not writing a Tolkienesque work!  It’s a bit like people who can never learn, say, French because they can never quite forgive French for not being English; they can’t get past the annoying reality that “it doesn’t work like my  language.” They never come to the place where they realize, “This language doesn’t exist to be compared to English; I have to take it on its own terms.”

Tolkien could not bring himself to budge from a certain, rigid, conceptual stronghold in order to perceive Lewis’s particular creative genius in the construction of the Narnia-world. It’s as if Lewis’s creation was a foreign language Tolkien wouldn’t attempt for fear of losing his own; thus he couldn’t hear or acknowledge Lewis’s language as anything but gibberish—in Tolkien’s own terms, “unreadable”. Considering how readable the Narnia stories have been to millions (a million children can't be wrong!), the verdict “unreadable” can only be a verdict on Tolkien’s blind spot in this case.

Lewis's work is not Tolkien's work. It's not even an attempt at being Tolkien's work. Tolkien's work, and tastes, do not define what Lewis was about, and, evidently, Tolkien was deaf to what Lewis was about when he created Narnia. Which is sad. Not every concert work of genius must sound like Beethoven's Fifth or "Thus Spake Zarathustra". Genius may be heard as well in "The Afternoon of a Faun" or "The Carnival of Animals." I must add to this point, that the distinct and exquisite level of genius hidden in the Narnia Chronicles was brought stunningly to the fore not long ago with the publication of Michael Ward's "Planet Narnia". The book argues that each book in the Narnia series contributes to an unfolding motif centered on medieval cosmology, the characteristics, qualities and mythical associations of the classic seven "planets" (including the sun and the moon) quite directly and vividly setting the stage in each book: the silvery moonlit atmosphere in "The Silver Chair"; the golden sun-drenched world in "Voyage of the Dawn Treader", the oppressive, saturnine heaviness of "The Last Battle".... When the concept was sketched to me, even before I had the chance to read the book, I knew instantly that it was right; it was something I had already felt but had no way to formulate. The evidence Ward presents in his book is utterly compelling, above and beyond the fact that it's something you recognize as true on a gut-level. Interestingly, the best attempt I've read, in an issue of the annual journal "Seven", published by Wheaton College, to refute Ward's theory, falls utterly flat.  

When Nixon went to “Red China”, everybody said that “Only Nixon could go to China.” That is, only the legendary anti-communist crusader Richard Nixon could make such a move without wrecking his anti-communist credentials. On a higher plane, C.S. Lewis said of Christ that only the Author of the commandment "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart... and thy neighbor as thyself" could pronounce with utter rightness, "Anyone who does not hate his father, his mother, his brother, his sister for My sake cannot be My disciple." Such "hate," enjoined by the Author of love, could only be right, and true and, ultimately, love. In a similarly paradoxical way, I will say that only C.S. Lewis, one of the greatest classicists of the 20th century, a man who cherished the riches of the "pagan" world (which is to say, the whole world that Christ came to redeem) and saw their best meanings caught up into and realized in the refining, transfiguring glory of Christ--only C.S. Lewis could, with such audacious abandon, ransack those riches and throw them together, willy-nilly, into his story, without doing them insult; rather, he did them honor and, in the process, expressed his rock-bottom conviction that, in the real world, all things belong finally to one Maker and living God, and that it would be sacrilege ever to deny it. 



Tuesday, April 1, 2014

"What would You have me do?" Calling in Paul's life, and ours!

This is a message I gave on Saturday, March 29th in Zaporozhye at a gathering of youth from across the province. The general theme of the conference was "calling", the "banner phrase" of the day being, "What would You have me do?" from Acts 22:10. 

I decided to speak in English, mostly because I had only just found out a few days beforehand I would be doing this, and I preferred to devote my time and energy to working on the content, not the language (i.e., Russian). Also, I thought it would be a bit "exotic" and thus interesting to a lot of the young people, especially those who could follow some English and would enjoy the challenge. Finally, I also considered it advantageous to present the message, as it were, in "stereo", the second voice being that of a much younger person, and of the "fairer sex", so as to increase the "identification quotient," as opposed to just being a lone old codger up there at the pulpit. And I really do think that helped! 


A few times I broke intentionally into Russian. Where I did that will be plain here. I include a transliteration, in Latin letters, of what I said in Russian, with the English next to or under it in parentheses. Before getting into the message at all I did say a few introductory words in Russian, so they were prepared for the fact that I could speak Russian! 




In 1 Corinthians 9:16, the apostle Paul says, “Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!’ Paul was called to preach the Gospel. When we hear the word “calling”, we think of service. To answer God’s calling means to serve Him. Yes, that’s true. But allow me to add another side, another aspect, to that: Calling means not only service; calling means change. When we answer God’s call, we change. And in God’s plan, to change means to grow, and to grow means to become like Jesus Christ—in concrete ways through obeying His commands. Paul could just as easily have said, “Woe to me if I do not become like Jesus Christ!”

But, one of you may object, “Wait! Being an apostle, or a traveling evangelist, isn’t the only way to become like Jesus Christ!” Perfectly correct. What I mean is, the only way to become like Jesus Christ is to answer God’s special calling in your life, whatever that may be—we are all different.

“Woe is me,” said the apostle, “if I do not preach the gospel.” Yes indeed, woe to him, because if he stopped proclaiming the message of Jesus, then the whole meaning and richness of his existence would disappear. If Paul stopped evangelizing, he would stop knowing Christ, because for Paul, to know Christ was to be His apostle.

We are not all called to be evangelists or preachers. But—we are all called. Perhaps one day you will say, “Woe is me if I do not adopt an orphan; woe is me if I do not feed the poor; woe is me if I do not witness to my coworkers; woe is me if I do not use my writing skills for God; if I don’t sing for God; if I don’t comfort the suffering; woe is me if I don’t learn sign language and minister to the deaf; woe is me if I don’t go to serve Christ in Mongolia, or Nepal, or Peru… or a small village in Ukraine.” No matter what your calling may be, you can say, “Woe is me if I don’t do it, because then I won’t know the fullness and richness my life should have in Christ.”

And whatever may be your personal calling from God, you can be sure of this: your calling will require you to change and develop, and grow into the likeness of Christ—that you change in concrete ways that you cannot imagine ahead of time. Let me emphasize that: life cannot be fully experienced simply on the level of imagination. You cannot know life simply as... predvkusheniye (anticipation, foretaste). Christ didn’t save us by thinking about dying on the cross. Paul didn’t simply dream how wonderful it would be if Gentiles across Asia came to Christ. No. Life must be lived in action, and the fruit of action is your becoming—your concrete becoming what you could never have been if you had not answered the call of God.

Calling is not an idea. Calling is a crisis. You know what the word “crisis” means? It comes from a Greek verb that means “to judge”, “to discern”. A crisis is a turning point; it is a moment of decision. Calling is a crisis, and it changes our lives, and changes us, radically. Paradoxically, this crisis also reveals what we really are, in our deepest nature—the nature that God designed from the very beginning.

Paradoxically, the more we change under God’s true plan, the further we enter into our true character. But if we reject calling because we’re afraid of change, we will lose even what we were trying to keep.

Let’s look at Acts 9:1-2 (read).

This Pharisee Paul was eager, zealous, ambitious. He had aspirations, expectations of becoming something—a great Pharisee and teacher in Israel; of becoming one of the great champions of God’s Law.

Listen carefully: Paul believed he was doing right. I think he would have announced without apology that his heart was full of righteous anger and holy hatred at these followers of Jesus. And here is the stunning thing: Paul was catastrophically wrong and horribly deceived. Believing he was conducting a holy war for God’s Law, Paul was actually committing an unspeakable evil. Isn’t it amazing that people can think they’re so right when they’re so wrong? Such is the dreadful consequence of sin. But how great God’s love is, that He looks deeper than our sin to see our need.

And this divine love appeared to Paul on the road to Damascus, in a burst of light: (read Acts 9:3-6).

“Who are you, Lord?” This Paul, who one day stood nearby and approved the killing of Stephen, and this Paul who went to Damascus to destroy anyone who professed the name of Jesus, this Paul now confesses his blindness and his ignorance: “Who are you, Lord?” The man who knew everything now knows that he knows nothing. This is change. This is the indispensible requirement of calling. It is painful when it is happening, but it is good and necessary.

And I want you to look at verse 20, because something most significant is hidden in the verse. It is hidden openly, transparently, because it’s right in front of our eyes but we don’t pay attention to it because we read the verse so quickly: “…and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, ‘He is the Son of God.’”

What is significant here? This is the earliest description of the content of Paul’s preaching; this is the essence of his gospel, especially as he preached it to the Jews. And what does this “essence” consist of? That Jesus is the Son of God. For Paul, the revolutionary revelation is not so much that Jesus is the Christ, but that Christ is the Son of God. Paul always expected that some day some man would be the Christ, but he never expected that the Christ would be the Son of God! This has changed everything for Paul.   

Change. Upon the revelation of the Son of God, Paul’s whole world changed—and so Paul had to change; he was called to change, to grow to live in Christ. This is what calling means.

A part of this chapter where I glimpse a very subtle bit of humor is in verses 26-31 (read). Again, this is a part you can read quickly without noticing significant details. As soon as Barnabas convinced the church in Jerusalem that Paul was a genuine believer, Paul started preaching like fire all over town. The text doesn’t tell us that he converted anybody, but it does tell us that a plot arose to kill him! And what did the Church do? Did the Church say to Paul, “Get ready—now you will offer up your life as a martyr to God like Stephen did”? No. The Church decided it would be better for everyone if this young, fiery, confrontational new convert left town and went home to Tarsus for a while. “And then the church had peace throughout Judea, Galilee and Samaria”—whew! peace!—“and it became stronger and grew”—what? How can that be?! Yes, dear young brother Paul, without you the church had peace, and became stronger, and grew. Imagine that!

Calling. Calling doesn’t mean we will always be the managers of our own affairs. It doesn’t mean: “From now on, it’s just me and the Holy Spirit, and I don’t need anybody’s advice!” No. If calling means that we are accessible and susceptible to the sound of God’s voice and direction of His will, then it also means we are open to the human channels through whom God will work in our lives. Even more, it means we must be sensitive, ready to perceive that God is telling us something through people. Calling means not just calling to serve, but calling to learn.

One of the things we learn when we submit to God’s calling is, we learn who we really are. It is important to know who you really are. Why? Because then you know what you are offering to God! The more you know who you really are, the better you can truly offer yourself to God.

I like to teach, and I think I’m not the worst teacher in the world. In fact, on occasion… if I’ve had a good night’s sleep and a good breakfast… I’ve been known to teach pretty well. Not every time that I teach is like a glorious mountaintop experience, but there are some special moments when my students and I together feel truth opening itself up to us with its almost shattering power. Those are truly peak moments, the kind that remind me again that teaching is my calling – even if I don’t always love it. I will tell you a secret about myself: I’m not an extrovert; I’m an introvert. It is always difficult for me, even painful, to get up in front of an audience. No, I don’t just mean that I get nervous. We all get nervous about things sometimes—but in fact I didn’t feel nervous at all about speaking to you this morning. No, I’m talking about something different. I mean quite literally that is painfully uncomfortable for me to stand in front of an audience. And yet, I am called to teach! Woe is me if I don’t teach!

Khotya, gore mne dazhe yesli ya prepodayu!
(Though, woe is me even if I do teach!)
V lyubom sluchaye, gore.
(Woe, regardless.)
Gore byvayet v zhyzni.
(In life, woe happens.)

Our Lord knew woe. But to experience woe in the fulfillment of God’s calling is to sow with tears and bring in a harvest with rejoicing.

When I came to Zaporozhye in February of 1995—that’s over 19 years ago!—I didn’t know that I was called to teach. I only knew I was called to Ukraine. I didn’t even come here with the intention of associating with the Bible college. The founders of the Bible college worked for one mission and I worked for a different one; we didn’t come here together. But when I got to Zaporozhye they asked me to help teach English, and I agreed. But to me that wasn’t really a “teaching ministry”—I was just helping. So when did the “great revelation” come to me that I must teach for Christ? It would be very interesting, of course, if I could tell you I saw a vision or heard a voice from heaven. But what really happened was this:

It was a Wednesday and the college was expecting an American guest to arrive on Friday to start teaching a course on Monday. On Wednesday this American brother wrote us to say he had broken his leg and couldn’t come. So Mark, the college director, handed me a textbook and said, “You have to teach this course starting Monday.” I was horrified! It’s what we call in English a baptism in fire.

But you know what? When I began doing this, I slowly discovered that I liked it, that the students reacted well, that they really learned something (!) and seemed to appreciate my work. In short, I discovered I was a teacher. I had to come to Ukraine, at the age of 37, to find myself—because when you answer God’s calling on your life, you certainly find yourself.

Such a discovery will bring the unexpected, even the unpleasant, and will often contradict what we assumed about ourselves.

Young Paul assumed that his calling simply meant that, if before he was fiery and zealous against Jesus, now he should simply be fiery and zealous for Jesus. Yes, a big change in his official position, but fundamentally the same character and approach to his task. Imagine his perplexity, his befuddlement, when the Church said to him, “Paul, you know what you need to do now? You need to get out of town, go home, and be quiet for a while.”

Calling doesn’t only change what we do, it changes who we are, and most of all it convinces us, to the deepest part of our souls, that we no longer sit on the throne of our lives, and that the most important question is not what we’re comfortable with, or what we like, or even what we understand. The most important question is: “Shto povelish’ mne delat’?” (“What will You have me do?”- Acts 22:10)

Before I came to Ukraine I was a pastor in America—that was my work—and I loved my church and I think they loved me! But a time came when I knew I had to go to Ukraine. It was clearly God’s direction. I wasn’t in control, God was. My heart was broken as I prepared to leave my country, my family, my friends, my church and everything that was familiar and comfortable to me—including my language! My family and friends were heartbroken, too. I felt very guilty for putting them through such pain. I remember one friend really was irritated with me, because he saw how sad I was, and he said, “You have such a happy life here, you love your work, you have close friends—why are you ruining it by going away?” And I could only say, “I must. That’s all. I must. God is doing this.”

There was a multitude of good reasons to stay home in America. There was only one little reason to come to Ukraine: calling.

Shto povelish’ mne delat’?
(What will You have me do?)

Calling changes everything, beginning with yourself. And when you answer God’s call, you will find yourself like never before.

The last thing I want to say now about calling is this: Calling brings chapters into your life—beginnings, endings and new beginnings. In Acts 14:8-20 (we won’t read the whole thing here now) we read about Paul and Barnabas in Lystra. What they experienced there brought them, it seems to me, to the close of a chapter in their lives. Barnabas was something like a mentor to Paul. He was the first believer in Jerusalem who trusted Paul after Paul’s conversion, and he introduced Paul to the apostles. After Paul had been back in Tarsus for some time, it was Barnabas who went to find him and bring him back to Antioch, so Paul could see the great things God was doing there among the Gentiles. “Barnabas was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and strong in faith.” He was like a father to Paul, and the two of them were sent together as a team to evangelize the world.

But when they came to Lystra, things began to change. Before this, Luke the writer of Acts constantly says, “Paul and Barnabas, Paul and Barnabas, Paul and Barnabas” when he talks about them. Suddenly, in Lystra, Luke says, “Paul”. It was Paul who took the initiative to tell a crippled man to stand up, and the man was healed.

Very interestingly, Paul and Barnabas receive two extreme reactions from one and the same city, Lystra. First, they are received as gods in the most enthusiastic reception they ever got anywhere—and it was a reception they didn’t want! (It’s also interesting to me that the people of Lystra thought Barnabas was the greater god, Zeus, and Paul was just his messenger Hermes!) And the same people accorded to Paul the opposite extreme not much later by trying to stone him to death!

And here is what indicates that something has changed, that a chapter is ending: they stoned only Paul, not “Paul and Barnabas”. Let’s read 14:19-20.

But Jews came there from Antioch and Iconium and won over the crowds. Then they stoned Paul and dragged him out of the city, supposing that he was dead. But when the disciples surrounded him, he got up and went into the city. The next day he went on with Barnabas to Derbe.

Who do we see rising up from the road, as if from the dead, and walking adamantly back into Lystra? Paul and Barnabas? No. We see Paul—and his disciples with him. Barnabas isn’t even mentioned. It is Paul who not only has been stoned by the Lystrans, but Paul who now leads the disciples back into the city. Something has changed. Paul has entered a new dimension as a man and apostle. And the time for Barnabas’ special ministry in Paul’s life is clearly coming to an end, even if the two of them didn’t fully realize it. A chapter is quickly closing. Very soon after this, as we all know, Paul and Barnabas separated—on a superficial level the cause was a difference of opinion about letting Mark join them on a missionary voyage, but the real, the intrinsic reason was that it was time; change was necessary for both Paul and Barnabas because a chapter had ended. It was time for them both to go and fulfill their callings separately. Barnabas could no longer play the old role in Paul’s life. Perhaps if both Paul and Barnabas had understood this better, they wouldn’t have argued but would have separated in peace.

Calling means change, growth and chapters in our lives, as we discern what God wants, do what God directs, and discover who we really are in God’s great, glorious plan. Don’t be afraid of change, don’t be afraid of chapters ending and chapters beginning, and DON’T be afraid of… CALLING.

Shto povelish’ mne delat’?
What would You have me do?

Open your hearts to whatever God will answer.