Snow on Christmas Eve. Big white, fluffy flakes that I wait for all year. And then it happens. (Along with a glossy coating of ice for good measure, to make sure that 4x drive still works just fine.) Cascading down around my shoulders until a childlike breathless wonderment takes over. That’s what those little downy flakes do to me. Every time. I suddenly turn in to some romanticizing fool who seems to think that even the tiniest indistinguishable flake somehow makes the whole world a little more incredible. A little more intense and passionate.
As I drove through that light Christmas Eve snow in a kind of quiet fascination, I started to think about how the whole earth is waiting in expectation for the return of Christ. Romans 8 tells us that all of creation is literally groaning and crying out for Him to return. To restore and renew all that sin has devastated. To make the truth of the hope we have complete. It’s wonderful and exhilarating and real to me more at Christmas than any other time of the year.
Christmas songs and traditions and scripture make it easy to think about that hope coming to earth as a baby and dying a humiliating death for the prideful sin that cast this world into darkness and futility. That hope that’s returning to restore us with a lavish inheritance to be made perfect in Him. Truth. Full circle and glorious.
Already, but not yet.
Though it’s easier for me to see at Christmas, all of creation is groaning every day. Constantly. Which I don’t often think about unless prompted by some outside influence. It’s not that the world wakes up every morning with an intense longing that it’s never felt before. It’s so easy to think of the sunrise as bringing something new each day. But this yearning never changes. Every second of every day, every tree, flower, shrub, piece of bark, blade of grass and tender ivory snowflake is groaning with an unimaginable intensity for the Lord of the universe to return and restore the perfection of His creation. It never stops. We see it in the wilting of colorful bouquets of wildflowers, the turning of the autumn leaves and in the chestnut acorns that fall off aged oak trees. And we see it in ourselves.
Our very bodies cry out of return of our King. Our Restorer. They (we) long for a day of no more striving, no more growing old, no more growing weary. This expectation is so easy to breathe in and out at Christmas, as we relive the story of our Savior coming as a baby to a broken and needy earth. The whole world leapt for joy with the angels when it recognized its Savior. Its Messiah. Its Emmanuel. Why is it so easy to take for granted once the new year begins?
Which brings me back to my thoughts driving home through that placid blanket of fluffy white reminders. Every aspect of this world cries out for a hope which it knows is sure to be fulfilled on the day when the skies part and Christ returns in glory. How much more should we live lives that eagerly point to and await that day?! How much more should His return consume our thoughts every day, just as it consumes everything around us?!
And it’s always those delicate white flakes that bring me back to the reality of the hope which I have. And the hope to which I cling. That day when we can stop groaning in expectation and fully receive the glorious restoration of our Lord and King! I can’t wait to see the snowflakes that fall after that day...
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Luther and Repentance
I got this from the Desiring God Blog. It's always amazing that biblical concepts we take for granted today were not common thought in Luther's time. It's easy for me to forget that. (Hence the whole taking for granted thing.) It's a good meditation. Truth spoken in beautiful words doesn't need much explanation.
Luther's First Thesis and Last Words
October 31, 2008 | By: David Mathis
Category: Commentary
491 years ago today, Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the church door in Wittenberg.
He wanted to debate the sale of indulgences with his fellow university professors. So he wrote in Latin.
But a nameless visionary translated the theses into German, carried them to the printing press, and enabled their dispersion far and wide. Luther ended up with more than he bargained for, but he proved to be no coward in defending the discoveries he was making in Scripture.
First Thesis
The truth of Luther’s first thesis would reverberate throughout his lifetime, even finding expression in his last words.
His first thesis reads,
When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said “Repent,” he intended that the entire life of believers should be repentance.
All of the Christian life is repentance. Turning from sin and trusting in the good news that Jesus saves sinners aren’t merely a one-time inaugural experience but the daily substance of Christianity. The gospel is for every day and every moment. Repentance is to be the Christian’s continual posture.
Last Words
Almost 30 years later, on February 16, 1546, Luther’s last words, written on a piece of scrap paper, echoed the theme of his first thesis:
We are beggars! This is true.
From first thesis to last words, Luther lived at the foot of the cross, where our rebellious condition meets with the beauty of God’s lavish grace in the gospel of his Son—a gospel deep enough to cover all the little and massive flaws of a beggar like Luther and beggars like us.
http://www.desiringgod.org/Blog/1471_luthers_first_thesis_and_last_words/
Luther's First Thesis and Last Words
October 31, 2008 | By: David Mathis
Category: Commentary
491 years ago today, Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the church door in Wittenberg.
He wanted to debate the sale of indulgences with his fellow university professors. So he wrote in Latin.
But a nameless visionary translated the theses into German, carried them to the printing press, and enabled their dispersion far and wide. Luther ended up with more than he bargained for, but he proved to be no coward in defending the discoveries he was making in Scripture.
First Thesis
The truth of Luther’s first thesis would reverberate throughout his lifetime, even finding expression in his last words.
His first thesis reads,
When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said “Repent,” he intended that the entire life of believers should be repentance.
All of the Christian life is repentance. Turning from sin and trusting in the good news that Jesus saves sinners aren’t merely a one-time inaugural experience but the daily substance of Christianity. The gospel is for every day and every moment. Repentance is to be the Christian’s continual posture.
Last Words
Almost 30 years later, on February 16, 1546, Luther’s last words, written on a piece of scrap paper, echoed the theme of his first thesis:
We are beggars! This is true.
From first thesis to last words, Luther lived at the foot of the cross, where our rebellious condition meets with the beauty of God’s lavish grace in the gospel of his Son—a gospel deep enough to cover all the little and massive flaws of a beggar like Luther and beggars like us.
http://www.desiringgod.org/Blog/1471_luthers_first_thesis_and_last_words/
Saturday, October 18, 2008
A work in progress...
(Grace.)
Unchanging nature leads to a provocation of grace-
That which never defers from its natural state of perfection
Need not pour out mercy, as if it had a mandate to do so.
Grace comes as a modest prairie breeze-
Something so quiet yet arresting, not only necessary but certain-
That even on the most pacific day, it is appreciated for itself alone.
The definition of purity.
The very meaning of undeserved and unrequited.
Poured out, overflowing, beautiful and priceless
For all those He has chosen.
It is the meal of fools for those who can not be captured by it,
And the very essence of hope for the living who will endure.
(Response to grace.)
I can not help but be moved by its timely presence.
Gentle, holy and completely disproportionate to my natural state.
Stare at the unseen, and know it for what it is-
Genuine manna from the hand of One who knows not fairness,
For He deals in a currency far more enduring- justice and mercy,
The brothers of grace. None deserved. None given lightly. None withheld.
And this is my response:
To be found on my face, in a repose unearned and unmistakable.
Tears of joy still streaming as incessantly as the first day
They discovered their purpose.
A healing elixir, bringing the old to light and replacing the past.
A new day is born! O, that grace which has not yet met its final act.
When all else has failed, still I cling to this-
Grace has redeemed me and set me free.
My feet know no fetter in the bonds of that most heavenly of gifts.
The blood still covers, still proves to be more than enough.
And I am enraptured with grace, confounded by its workings,
Yet always aware that it is a precious light amidst a world of darkness.
And my response will always be, Amen.
Unchanging nature leads to a provocation of grace-
That which never defers from its natural state of perfection
Need not pour out mercy, as if it had a mandate to do so.
Grace comes as a modest prairie breeze-
Something so quiet yet arresting, not only necessary but certain-
That even on the most pacific day, it is appreciated for itself alone.
The definition of purity.
The very meaning of undeserved and unrequited.
Poured out, overflowing, beautiful and priceless
For all those He has chosen.
It is the meal of fools for those who can not be captured by it,
And the very essence of hope for the living who will endure.
(Response to grace.)
I can not help but be moved by its timely presence.
Gentle, holy and completely disproportionate to my natural state.
Stare at the unseen, and know it for what it is-
Genuine manna from the hand of One who knows not fairness,
For He deals in a currency far more enduring- justice and mercy,
The brothers of grace. None deserved. None given lightly. None withheld.
And this is my response:
To be found on my face, in a repose unearned and unmistakable.
Tears of joy still streaming as incessantly as the first day
They discovered their purpose.
A healing elixir, bringing the old to light and replacing the past.
A new day is born! O, that grace which has not yet met its final act.
When all else has failed, still I cling to this-
Grace has redeemed me and set me free.
My feet know no fetter in the bonds of that most heavenly of gifts.
The blood still covers, still proves to be more than enough.
And I am enraptured with grace, confounded by its workings,
Yet always aware that it is a precious light amidst a world of darkness.
And my response will always be, Amen.
Monday, October 13, 2008
7300 N IH 35
It’s amazing how and when God brings things full circle.
Spring 2004. My second semester of grad school at UT. A time when sports and marketing ruled my academic universe, and my career goals looked more like those of a corporate superstar than a vocational ministry-worker concerned with the restoration of one of the most unchurched cities in America. Not that either of those is necessarily any better or worse than the other. It just further illustrates that in 2004, I had no idea what God had for me in 2008.
I lived in North Austin and would have to drive down I-35 every afternoon to go to class at UT. Not the most scenic of drives, unless your idea of scenic is less Norman Rockwell and more Bennigan’s and Fast Freddy’s Hair Salon. But traffic generally wasn’t terrible that time of day, so I didn’t mind. After completing this often mindless drive for the first seven months or so of living in Austin, I began to be more intentional about noticing my surroundings. Just something to break up the monotony of the drive. Looking for something new every day.
After a short time, I began to use this time to be even more intentional to pray or to listen to God. That’s the great thing about IH 35; I was a captive audience with nothing beautiful or exciting to distract me. (And, trust me, I’m pretty good at getting distracted.)
One day, I looked out the window and noticed a tarot card reader. The building caught my attention, because it looked pretty new compared to the rest of the neighborhood. Also, there was a bright neon sign on the front of the pale stone building. Couldn’t miss it. But, somehow, I had missed it for the previous seven months. As I was passing the building, I heard the voice of the Lord tell me to pray for that place. I felt impressed to pray for the people who worked there, that they would know the Lord and that He would reveal Himself to them and bring them from darkness to light- that He would break the chains that bound them and rescue them from a life apart from Him. I also felt impressed to pray against the darkness that bound that place and that the Lord would be known there. It was a strong impression that I could not ignore.
And so, for the next 5 months or so, that’s what I faithfully prayed, every day, as I passed the little tarot card reader.
Then, something happened one day as I drove past. I was praying my normal prayer, and I suddenly felt a shift in my spirit. I felt the Lord telling me to start praying that His house would be built on this land. (Some of you already know where I’m going with this, and so to you I say, every time I get to this part of the story- even just thinking about it- I get giddy with excitement and teary-eyed and ridiculously joyful, all at the same time. If you know me well, that probably doesn’t surprise you.)
God was telling me to pray that His kingdom would replace the kingdom of darkness in that place and that a building would be built there where people could worship Him. He was telling me to pray for a church to be built on that land.
And so, for the next year or so, I prayed, every time I drove down IH 35, that God would build His church on that land. That His kingdom would come there. That His will would be done there.
At this time, I had no affiliation with the Stone. I had never even heard of it. I was attending another church in a completely different part of town, with no thought of ever having anything to do with this restoration myself. But I was still excited to pray. I remember there being a little “jump” in my spirit. Little did I realize how big that “jump” would feel four years later. (Think sumo wrestlers and trampolines.)
See, at that time, the Lord didn’t need for me to know how intimately I would be involved with this project in the future. He just needed me to be faithful. And obedient. And pray. And I was and did.
And now, four years after God told me to pray for His church to come to that place, the Austin Stone has bought that very piece of property with the desire to build something that will be a tool for city-wide renewal. That very same piece of land I had no connection to but passionately prayed for every day for 18 months, four years ago. And now I get to be a part of seeing that prayer come to fruition. God is amazing! And awesome. And a million other things I can come nowhere close to describing this side of Heaven.
It’s not that I think my prayer was the catalyst that caused us to choose this land. Or that I could somehow influence God’s sovereign and ordained plan for this little piece of earth. But I am thankful that, because I was listening and because I chose to be obedient when I heard God’s voice, I have gotten to be a small part of a huge movement before it was even on the map, so to speak.
That creates more faith and excitement and hope in me than I can even express. It’s pretty darn cool.
There are a few more places around town God has had me praying for for awhile now. A couple of which I have no tie to or personal investment in whatsoever. I can’t wait to see what He’s going to do in those places. Or what Austin will be like in twenty years. Or ten. Or five.
Like I said before, full circle.
Spring 2004. My second semester of grad school at UT. A time when sports and marketing ruled my academic universe, and my career goals looked more like those of a corporate superstar than a vocational ministry-worker concerned with the restoration of one of the most unchurched cities in America. Not that either of those is necessarily any better or worse than the other. It just further illustrates that in 2004, I had no idea what God had for me in 2008.
I lived in North Austin and would have to drive down I-35 every afternoon to go to class at UT. Not the most scenic of drives, unless your idea of scenic is less Norman Rockwell and more Bennigan’s and Fast Freddy’s Hair Salon. But traffic generally wasn’t terrible that time of day, so I didn’t mind. After completing this often mindless drive for the first seven months or so of living in Austin, I began to be more intentional about noticing my surroundings. Just something to break up the monotony of the drive. Looking for something new every day.
After a short time, I began to use this time to be even more intentional to pray or to listen to God. That’s the great thing about IH 35; I was a captive audience with nothing beautiful or exciting to distract me. (And, trust me, I’m pretty good at getting distracted.)
One day, I looked out the window and noticed a tarot card reader. The building caught my attention, because it looked pretty new compared to the rest of the neighborhood. Also, there was a bright neon sign on the front of the pale stone building. Couldn’t miss it. But, somehow, I had missed it for the previous seven months. As I was passing the building, I heard the voice of the Lord tell me to pray for that place. I felt impressed to pray for the people who worked there, that they would know the Lord and that He would reveal Himself to them and bring them from darkness to light- that He would break the chains that bound them and rescue them from a life apart from Him. I also felt impressed to pray against the darkness that bound that place and that the Lord would be known there. It was a strong impression that I could not ignore.
And so, for the next 5 months or so, that’s what I faithfully prayed, every day, as I passed the little tarot card reader.
Then, something happened one day as I drove past. I was praying my normal prayer, and I suddenly felt a shift in my spirit. I felt the Lord telling me to start praying that His house would be built on this land. (Some of you already know where I’m going with this, and so to you I say, every time I get to this part of the story- even just thinking about it- I get giddy with excitement and teary-eyed and ridiculously joyful, all at the same time. If you know me well, that probably doesn’t surprise you.)
God was telling me to pray that His kingdom would replace the kingdom of darkness in that place and that a building would be built there where people could worship Him. He was telling me to pray for a church to be built on that land.
And so, for the next year or so, I prayed, every time I drove down IH 35, that God would build His church on that land. That His kingdom would come there. That His will would be done there.
At this time, I had no affiliation with the Stone. I had never even heard of it. I was attending another church in a completely different part of town, with no thought of ever having anything to do with this restoration myself. But I was still excited to pray. I remember there being a little “jump” in my spirit. Little did I realize how big that “jump” would feel four years later. (Think sumo wrestlers and trampolines.)
See, at that time, the Lord didn’t need for me to know how intimately I would be involved with this project in the future. He just needed me to be faithful. And obedient. And pray. And I was and did.
And now, four years after God told me to pray for His church to come to that place, the Austin Stone has bought that very piece of property with the desire to build something that will be a tool for city-wide renewal. That very same piece of land I had no connection to but passionately prayed for every day for 18 months, four years ago. And now I get to be a part of seeing that prayer come to fruition. God is amazing! And awesome. And a million other things I can come nowhere close to describing this side of Heaven.
It’s not that I think my prayer was the catalyst that caused us to choose this land. Or that I could somehow influence God’s sovereign and ordained plan for this little piece of earth. But I am thankful that, because I was listening and because I chose to be obedient when I heard God’s voice, I have gotten to be a small part of a huge movement before it was even on the map, so to speak.
That creates more faith and excitement and hope in me than I can even express. It’s pretty darn cool.
There are a few more places around town God has had me praying for for awhile now. A couple of which I have no tie to or personal investment in whatsoever. I can’t wait to see what He’s going to do in those places. Or what Austin will be like in twenty years. Or ten. Or five.
Like I said before, full circle.
New Beginnings
So…I’ve been trying to get this blog started for awhile now but have thus far lacked either the time or energy to do it. The desire to write is never an issue for me, and so I thought that by having a blog (yes, I am finally joining the trendy cool-kids club, or at least trying to…), I would be more disciplined in writing, even if just a little bit at a time. Well, the hardest part so far has proved to be getting started, but now I’m finally taking the plunge.
So here goes…
So here goes…
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