Trinity Western faces pressure over faith statement

If you're in the mood to stare at something in horrified disbelief, read the article I read this morning in the National Post, found here. My favorite quote? "This is not about the school being Christian, but about faculty having to sign a statement of faith before being hired. A university is meant as a place to explore ideas, not create disciples of Christ." According to who??

Caring for those who don't care

Matthew 5:7 "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy"

This week of nursing school has opened my eyes to an aspect of this profession that I had never considered... and I still don't know how I feel about.

As many of you know, I started clinicals this week, and my first community placement was at AIDS Vancouver Island. Leaving that evening after an afternoon spent with people who are suffering and dying, there was so much on my mind.

First a excerpt from my personal journal about my experience (edited a little so you can better understand):

I realized I had a view of those with HIV/AIDS that was both ignorant and biased. I've always seen this virus as the 'disease of homosexuals', and thinking back on it now... I'm really not sure how I got that impression. How wrong I was!

AIDS is contracted through the exchange of body fluids, such as semen, cervical or vaginal secretions, and blood. At AIDS Vancouver Island (AVI), the majority of patients have been diagnosed with AIDS due to intravenous drug use, presumably having used a needle previously used by someone HIV positive (blood to blood).

However, AIDS is also commonly contracted through any sex act where there is an exchange of bodily fluids, as well as through the placenta of a HIV positive mother to her child.

If the world was perfect, then AIDS would not exist. It is the direct result of an immoral and fallen world... a world where sexual sin and having multiple partners is not only common but even applauded. A world where husbands cheat and then infect not only their wives (who are innocent), but their future children as well. There are stories out of Africa and Asia about clinics that are so short on supplies and funding that they have to reuse needles in order to be able to immunize children and families, not realizing they are infecting hundreds of people with the disease that will kill them by extension.

So, despite the fact that HIV/AIDS is spread to a large extent by sinful acts, aren't we all sinners here? I've heard brothers and sisters in Christ say we shouldn't support research for a cure, or assist the sufferers - that AIDS is a punishment from God on these people who live so immorally. Can they really say that? Surely we are all equally as fallen, and we aren't saved by any righteousness or worthiness that we ourselves possess, but solely by the grace of God. Right? Does having contracted a disease because of an ungodly lifestyle make someone unworthy of treatment? Aren't we called to show mercy and the love of Christ to those who don't know Him? I don't know what to think. I do know that the people I met today were lovely human beings, making the most out of a horrible situation. And I know that I want to help them. I want to heal their bodies, but more than that, I want to heal their souls... or more accurately, I want my Savior to heal their souls. To fix their brokenness, to give them peace instead of evil, to give them a future and a hope (Jeremiah 29:11).

I wrote that on Tuesday. Then today I had a nursing practice class and we had the chance to talk about our different experiences in clinical this week, since we all have various placements around the city. During my turn, I spoke about my realization that as nurses we won't always be working on patients that want to get better... my example was of the addicts at AVI who come each week for their antiretroviral meds , but go right on shooting up and getting high the rest of the time. Bringing up this point led to a discussion that lasted over an hour. This same idea applies to smokers who come in for cancer treatment, go into remission, then grab a pack of smokes from the hospital gift shop on their way out the door... or an obese patient admitted for a heart attack, who then drives to the nearest McDonald's as soon as they are released.

Do these people deserve to get expensive treatments if they aren't even willing to take care of themselves? Shouldn't people who try to stay healthy take priority over those who repeatedly poison their bodies? Canadian Health Care seems to say yes.

Our teacher told a story about a friend of hers who lived up island and was a chain smoker. As a result, he required coronary bypass surgery, but the surgeon refused. He asked the patient if he would be willing to quit smoking after the surgery and when the patient said no, the doctor told him it would be a waste of time to perform an operation on someone who would just reverse it all in a matter of months. He never got the surgery. Now he's dead. This is allowed in Canada.

And it happens much more often than you would think. Alcoholics are repeatedly bumped to the bottom of waiting lists for liver transplants, because preference is given to those without a history of alcohol abuse, for example.

I don't know how to feel about this issue. On one hand, I do struggle to see the point of striving to save someone's life when they'll just be in the following week with the same issues. I've heard stories about alcoholics who come in weekly for kidney dialysis. It seems as though it's only fair that they be working to make changes to their lifestyle as well expecting hospital treatment (again and again).

On the other hand, I am outraged that someone, anyone, would be refused treatment and essentially left to die. It just doesn't sit right with me... and as much as I don't like that they aren't putting in an effort to change their lifestyle, I dread having to look into the face of one of these people and tell them we won't give them life-saving surgery because of the way they live their life.

The way I see it, giving them even a few more days on this earth is giving them a few more days to come to a saving faith in Christ and spend eternity praising His name.

It's definitely an tricky issue, and one that requires a lot of thought and prayer for me. However, regardless of my personal beliefs, if I work in Canada I am bound by their regulations. The nursing knowledge base teaches that everyone is worthy of care and no one should be turned away. What do you think?

Excerpt from "The Fallen Saint Restored" by Edward Reynolds

The following are quotations from The Fallen Saint Restored, a Cure for Backsliding & Comfort for the Backslider, by Edward Reynolds. I read it a couple months ago and it was extremely helpful (I'm prone to doubt, relying on my own strength, and sin... fallen man that I am). These are just what I liked most from the first few pages! This is a devotional study of Matthew 14:66-72 and Matthew 26:69-75. The author uses the example of Peter's backsliding as an example.

"Self-dependance & pride, or any other carnal affection which is deeply rooted in the nature of men, are often found in the most holy actions of men. It was faith that made Peter go down into the water, but it was flesh that made him sink (Matthew 14:30). Faith made him zealous in Christ's cause, but flesh drew his sword at Malchus' ear. Faith made him follow Christ, but flesh made him follow afar off. Faith made him accompany Christ to the garden, but flesh made him sleep. Faith made him promise perseverance, but flesh made him peremptory in that promise. In a word: faith made him resolute to confess, but flesh to contradict his master.

God must give us perseverance before we promise it; it is not in our power, thought it is our duty, to perform it. Though Peter may, by virtue of Christ's promise, be sure not to fall into hell, he cannot be sure by that same promise not to fall into temptation. Though he can be sure that faith will have the last victory, he cannot be sure that faith will have every victory. Though faith cannot die and be finally dried up, yet it may ebb and languish. Though even now in the mind of Peter, faith can look undaunted on the nails of the cross, yet presently it may be affrighted at the voice of a maid. He who has given faith to us, is the only one who can give life & action to our faith. Christ is both the quickener & the object of our faith; by His power it works & on His merits it relies. When He is pleased to withdraw Himself, when both object & mover of faith is absent, faith will be inoperative.

As we cannot see the sun without the light of the sun, so neither can we believe in Christ without the grace of Christ. Lord! Let me never barely promise, but let me pray, & let my purpose to die for Christ be seconded with the supplication that I may not deny Him. Whenever I have an arm of confidence to lift in defense of the truth, let me have a knee of humility to bow before the throne of Grace. Lord, give me what I may promise, & I will promise what you require."

Truths I had never considered before in that way. Beautiful. Convicting.

Cemeteries Part I

(in Part I, I will explore cemeteries in general, in Part II, I'll talk about my own experiences with them. Please keep in mind as you read that I've attempted to keep this post neutral and applicable all of mankind in it's fallen state, but in the following post I will speak as a Christian on what graveyards mean to me. As a follower of Christ, death holds no power over me and I don't fear it. To further prove this, I have included some verses from the Bible at the end.)

Ah, cemeteries. The perfect setting for a horror movie. The ultimate Halloween party location. Described adequately with such adjectives as 'creepy', 'spooky', and 'eerie'. But why do the places where we bury our dead have a reputation like this? What's with our culture and death?

It's not like this everywhere, you know. In Europe, cemeteries are regarded more as pleasant places to take afternoon strolls, not so different from any other park or green space (if a little more solemn). In much of Latin America, cemeteries are respected, spiritual places that are honored and cared for (this is best seen on the Dia de la Muerte if ever you are interested).

Here in North America on the other hand, children are afraid to enter graveyards and teenagers lurk around them at night, thinking they are tough for picking it as a hangout and desecrating graves with graffiti, etc. All of our most horrifying movies feature at least one cemetery... preferably on a cold dark night, shrouded in mist. The general feeling in graveyards is one of unease and fear... and a desire to get away from it all.

I don't know if you've ever taken a stroll through a cemetery, but if you have, you've probably felt something noteworthy about the experience -- something different from all the other spaces and places that fill our lives. After all, graveyards are the final resting place for many of our dead. People say their last goodbyes there, sometimes returning year after year to leave flowers or say a few words.

Whether the grounds are finely manicured or left to the weeds, graveyards exist as the place where the living contemplate the mysteries, traumas and heartbreaks associated with death.

In North America, graveyards are unpleasant places to go and people who go there without reason are thought to be strange and likely troubled in some way. I am one such person, and when my dad found out that I liked them, he compared me to Harold from the movie Harold & Maude. Perfect. But why are so many people afraid of graveyards? Is it the thought of all those decaying bodies under the dirt or the idea of a bony arm emerging from the soil to grab your ankle and pull you into the underworld? Or is it something deeper?

For a cat, graveyards may just be another place to sleep away the afternoon, but to the (unbelieving) human, they represent the mystery and the outrage of mortality. Like it or not, we're all going to die. You may think you've accepted that fact, but it's an issue humanity has struggled with since the beginning of time. Unable to avoid it, we've tried to figure out what lies beyond it's doors. Will we live forever in a golden paradise, be reincarnated as a goat or simply cease to exist? We've pined for understanding in the shadows of the pyramids and stared into the blinking eyes of guillotined heads, hoping to glimpse something other than the emptiness of nonexistence.

Biologically, fear exists as a response to stimuli that threatens our survival. We're programmed to fight or run from anything that might cause death, and we approach death itself with the same attitude. We flee from it every day by distancing it from our thoughts and lives. In many parts of the world, we've handed the duties of interring the dead over to mortuary professionals, which limits our intimacy with death.

An excellent example of our culture's understanding of cemeteries is a story my dad told me just the other day from his high school years...

One day he and his friends ate lunch in the cemetery across the street from their school for no particular reason other that it was uncrowded and sunny over there. That afternoon they were all called to the principal's office, and after questioning them about there reasons for their earlier foray, the principal forbid them from ever returning while attending his school.

Now, why would he deem it necessary to take such drastic action? Why was it so disturbing that young people would choose to spend there time in such a place?

We're a race that instinctively fears death, yet we work to maintain hallowed spaces where the dead are memorialized and at least partially preserved. There's also thousands of years' worth of superstitions, folktales and ghost stories to add to the excitement.

We've poured a lot of sacrament, superstitions and fear into our graveyards, which makes for quite a powerful atmosphere. Not only do graveyards play on past memories of loss, they also invoke potentially potent themes of supernatural terror. It's not just horror movies that contribute to this frightening reputation. Cemetery preservation groups and historical societies sometimes get in on the action with haunted tours.

In more extreme cases, people actually suffer from coimetrophobia, the fear of graveyards. The conditions involves a heightened, unrealistic fear of graveyards that actively interferes with a person's life. But unless walking past a cemetery makes your heart rave or the words "graveyard shift" make you faint, your fear probably doesn't qualify as a phobia.

For the most part, the only things you really have to fear in graveyards are collapsing tombstones and monuments. Besides that, living, breathing humans are responsible for more graveyard assaults than all the vampires, zombies and ghouls combined.

"Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in Him." - Thessalonians 4:13-14

"Since the children have flesh and blood, He too shared in their humanity so that by His death He might destroy him who holds the power of death - that is, the devil - and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death." - Hebrews 2:14-15

"Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling." - 2 Corinthians 5:1-2

"For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen in temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." - 2 Corinthians 4:17-18

"The righteous perish, and no one ponders it in his heart; devout men are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death." - Isaiah 57:1-2

Stay tuned for Part II!

When Sovereignty Hurts

"Jesus to Thee I lift my eyes

To Thee I breathe my soul's desires.

Are you not mine, my living Lord?

And can my hope, my comfort die?

Fixed on the everlasting Word

That Word which built the earth and sky..."

-"Jesus, I Lift My Eyes

There's something scary about sovereignty. The fact that God has complete and total power over all circumstances - that He can and does preordain situations - is difficult theology to accept.

Why? It's hard to wrap our minds around a God who has the power to stop all pain and suffering, and yet allows it to continue. He ordains cancer. He predestines hospital stays. Stillborn children are not people who slipped through the cracks of God's plans. There are no car accidents. God sovereignly appoints all circumstances.

This is not a fact that is easy to say or swallow, but it's the only option that can be true. If we don't believe that God allows suffering, then we must believe He doesn't have control over it. If we believe God is obligated as a God of love to stop all suffering, and he He doesn't, then we must assume He can't. Because whether or not we think it should, suffering does exist.

But my goal today is not to write persuasively on God's sovereignty. Maybe another day. The thought that has been pressed into my mind for the past week or so is God's trustworthiness. My mind has traveled like this:

Is God in control? Yes.

Can He stop the pain? Yes.

But what if He doesn't? Is God still worthy of my trust?

If I trusted a friend to catch me, but instead they let me fall flat on my face, my confidence in them would quickly evaporate. Even if they explained that they let me fall to help me grow as a person, I'd probably be ticked. What are friends for, anyway?

In a way, this is exactly what God does. He demands that you trust Him. He tells you to obey. Inevitably, suffering then arrives in some form. Your heart betrays you. Your wallet is stolen. You watch your best friend fight for his life. You then must continue loving and worshipping Him, knowing all the while that He didn't prevent your pain.

On the surface, that's what life is like. We know that we can do nothing to divert or foretell God's plans. We just strap ourselves in for a tumultuous ride, secretly wondering whether God ever loved us at all. We ask whether He's forgotten us.

But it's here we find something unexpected in the suffering equation - something to sing about.

Him. He doesn't forget us.

We forget Him. We don't forget that He could have prevented all our pain if He wanted to - we dwell on that quite a lot. But we forget Jesus as Himself. We dwell on the blessings that He withholds, not the supreme blessing He constantly offers - Himself.

God's sovereignty does not eclipse His loving nature, His faithfulness or mercy. Just because He ordains pain doesn't mean He ignores our prayers or wants us to suffer alone. After all, it is the same God who once ordained His own Son's death for our sakes. Giving everything to pay for us, do you think He'd quickly let us go?

Poem Sunday - Jan 18th '10

How Do I Love Thee? - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with a passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Sonnet 46 - William Shakespeare

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,

How to divide the conquest of thy sight;

Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,

My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.

My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,

A closet never pierc'd with crystal eyes

But the defendant doth that plea deny,

And says in him thy fair appearance lies.

To side this title is impannelled

A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;

And by their verdict is determined

The clear eye's moiety, and the dear heart's part:

As thus; mine eye's due is thy outward part,

And my heart's right, thy inward love of heart.

She Walks in Beauty - Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

On Irish Teenagers

Yesterday I was reading on the bus and I came to a particularly funny passage. I tried to keep from laughing, but I utterly failed and thus received those odd quizzical (slightly disapproving) looks people get when they laugh too hard or too loud in public and don't share the joke.

At school we've been studying the effects of laughter on an individual's emotional and physical health, especially in the healing and/or recovery process. The impact laughter has is remarkable, it greatly improves wellbeing. This is visible on even a cellular level.

Since laughter is on my mind, I wanted to share two excerpts I thoroughly enjoyed reading yesterday, but first I'll give you the context... and also, indirectly, recommend the book to you.

I'm a huge fan of travel writing in it's various forms, and I have adored Bill Bryson and Will Ferguson for years (among many others).

Will Ferguson was born and bred on our very own Canadian soil, which leads me to feel oddly connected to him, a strange sort of loyalty I guess. His latest book is called Beyond Belfast and it's the one I'm currently reading. It's the story of his 'misguided attempt at walking the Ulster Way, the longest waymarked trail in the British Isles'. He journeys through the small towns and half-forgotten villages of Northern Ireland, along rugged coastlines and across barren moorland heights, past crumbling castles and patchwork farms. From IRA pubs to Protestant marches, from bandits and bad weather to banshee and blood sausage. Right down my alley. Plus, he's a skilled and witty writer that runs into some impossibly hilarious people and circumstances. Long story short? Great book.

Number One:

Cushendall is a nice place for a stroll. (A short stroll, admittedly, as one soon runs out of Cushendall to stroll through.) It was quiet that evening, almost as though under curfew - and perhaps it was, considering the solid square presence of the centerpiece tower. The village was once owned by a gentleman named Francis Turnley, who undertook many a varied improvement, the most enduring of which was a sandstone tower built at the crossroads. Known as the Curfew Tower, it was intended to be "a place of confinement for idlers and rioters." What a splendidly imperialistic time that was, I thought, when a gentleman might simply "purchase" and entire village, lock, stock and peasantry. A time when "idlers" were a real concern. A forelock-tugging, "yes m'lord" era. It must have been a great time to be alive - if you were the tuggee and not the tugger, of course.

Sullen teenagers (a redundancy, I know) were hanging around out front when I got to the tower. Which is to say, the loathsome "idlers" were with us still. Damnation, where is my walking stick with which to scatter them!

"Is the tower open?" I asked.

They stared at me with bovine gaze, shrugged. Ah, to be young and burning with lassitude and apathy.

I tried the door. "Closed," I chirped. Like they cared.

Drawing on all their inner resolve, they managed to shrug again, barely able to lift their shoulders, so great was the weight of their existence upon them. One of them took a weary drag on a cigarette. Another attempted to bring his can of cola to his lips but gave up halfway, the effort being simply too much for him. He clearly had larger, metaphysical issues to grapple with.

"You know," I said - and no, I don't know why I was trying to make conversation with them - "this tower, it was built to lock up loiterer and riff-raff, such as yourself."

The irony was lost on them, alas, and I wasn't rewarded with even a shrug this time, but only heavy-lidded, morose stares.

"Well, see ya later!" I said.

Number Two:

I had done it. I had gotten lost on one of the most well-travelled routes in the Glens. Retracing my steps, past droopy fishing poles and sleepy teenagers, I found the waymarker that had pointed me into the wooded cul-de-sac. The sign had been turned around. Intentionally. And I just knew it was those ne'er-do-well teenagers I'd passed earlier. I considered going back to give them a proper finger-wagging, but the fact that (a) they might, possibly, be innocent and (b) I could very well end up with both fishing rods inserted up my backside helped dampen my determination.

I did rejoin the main trail, though - the elderly birdwatchers had pulled ahead - and I did eventually reach the Ess-na-Crub Falls behind the restaurant.

"We were about to send a search party," was the greeting I received.

"I took the scenic route," I said.

"Aye? Thought we'd lost you. Were going to send someone out w' breadcrumbs."

"Me?" I said. "Lost? Naw. I'm from the Great White North. We can track polar bears across ice in the middle of a blizzard. We're trail-finders, it's in our blood. I was just taking my time, exploring all avenues. I didn't want to rush through, you see. I wanted to savor the experience."

"So," he said. "You got lost, then?"

"Yup."

After supper, and a fine meal it was, he called a taxi for the long run back. The day was winding down, and my feet ached in a manly sort of way.

These are but two of the hundreds of smiles this books as brought to my face. Hope you enjoyed them! Happy, happy Friday to you all!

Religion Oppresses Women

At least that's what Nicholas Kristof writes in a recent New York Times article. Specifically, he asks: "[W]hy do so many faiths help perpetuate something that most of us regard as profoundly unethical: the oppression of women?"

Kristof acknowledges that no religion advocates mass rapes in Congo, bride burnings in India or men throwing acid in the face of schoolgirls in Afghanistan. But, he warns,

...these kinds of abuses - along with more banal injustices, like slapping a girlfriend or paying women less for their work - arise out of a social context in which women are, often, second class citizens. That's a context that religions have helped shape, and not pushed hard to change.

"Women are prevented from playing a full and equal role in many faiths, creating an environment in which violations against women are justified," former President Jimmy Carter noted in a speech last month to the Parliament of the World's Religions in Australia.

"The belief that women are inferior beings in the eyes of God," Mr. Carter continued, "gives excuses to the brutal husband who beats his wife, the soldier who rapes a woman, the employer who has a lower pay scale for women employees, or parents who decide to abort a female embryo."

Reading an article like Kristof's always presents a bit of a challenge to me -- in part, because we have some real points of agreement.

There are atrocities committed upon women every day. Some religions have promoted it or, at the least, tolerated them. The belief that women are inferior human beings does, I believe, contribute to those atrocities.

But when Kristof concludes that, "Today, when religious institutions exclude women from their hierarchies and rituals, the inevitable implications is that females are inferior," I have to call a "Whoa, Nellie!"

You see, while Kristof is comfortable with throwing all religious belief into the stockpile of "religion," I am not. The questions for me isn't "Does religion encourage the abuse of women?" but rather "Does a particular religion encourage the abuse of women?" And, more specifically, does mine?

I cannot speak knowledgeably about other world religions. I admit that I am baffled by how they treat women. Some would see a woman as so inferior that she may not walk alone or be educated while simultaneously saying that she is such a powerful force that her actions can bring disgrace upon an entire family of males and she must be killed. Truly sickening.

But I have had to question my own belief system, and I have come to understand that accepting leadership structures in the home and church does not give the "inevitable implication" that I am inferior. I am an equally worthy child of God, a fellow heir of grace with my brothers in Christ. Simply because I acknowledge that I was created for different roles than my brothers does not mean that I am a lesser than.

Even Kristof admits what he calls a paradox about Christianity:

[T]he church in Africa that have done the most to empower women have been conservative ones led by evangelicals...

Perhaps, Kristof writes, churches are the problem but can also be the solution. But what Kristof doesn't see is that those evangelical churches are doing the same thing in Africa that theyare called by the Word to do anywhere in the world: teaching men and women to love the Lord their God with all their heart, soul and mind.

When that happens, all women -- young and old, single, married or widowed -- are honored and protected.

Popping My Watermelon Head

Yesterday afternoon, in between bites of lunch, I chatted casually with a new acquaintance sitting across the table. One thing led to another, and our conversation took on a more serious turn. "I believe that all people are inherently good," the friendly woman commented, smiling widely.

A few minutes later, this pleasant lady revealed that she was unconcerned about what would happen to her after she died. She shrugged, "Some questions can never be answer." Morality is grey, she explained, not black or white. All religions are equally valid. Then she handed the discussion off to her friend, an animated young man in his twenties, who had been listening to snatches of what we were talking about.

He jumped into the conversation eagerly, and we began to discuss Christianity. It was immediately apparent that I was speaking with a a highly intellectual and well-read individual. He had perused the entire Bible, to conclude that the Old Testament God was inconsistent with the God of the New Testament. Paul, he claimed, could have very well been a homosexual. And as for Christ? Well, He certainly was an "enlightened being", but we cannot possibly know if He actually claimed deity. Perhaps, he suggested, the Lord's Prayer can be interpreted to mean that we are all God. Ultimately, we must each fashion truth for ourselves.

"For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine, but according to their own desires, because they have itching ears, they will heap up for themselves teachers; and they will turn their ears away from the truth, and be turned aside to fables." - 2 Timothy 4:3-4

This is our world. These are the people you pass by in the produce aisle - the cousin at a family reunion - the neighbor next door. And they need answers- answers that require a thorough knowledge of Scripture. Never before has our culture seen so many competing ideologies vying for attention. And yet, beneath all the clamor and chaos, our world is starved for truth.

My friend's father loves to pose thought-procoking questions. As we're discussing some attribute of God, he always asks, "Now, tell me: how does this doctrine effect you neighbor?" It's a pivotal question to consider. If we can talk at length about the omnipotence of God, but cannot draw the connection to real life and real people, there is a serious problem.

Why? Because if theology is simply loved and studies for itself, the knowledge us not only futile; it is dangerous.

Like the Pharisees, our heads will swell up like ripe watermelons, as we grow increasingly enthralled- not with God, but with ourselves. Intoxicated with the staggering grandeur of our own high contemplations, we'll miss the point altogether.

Incredibly, instead of falling flat on our faces in adoration and worship, Christians are easy prey to pride within the enticing web of lofty knowledge. Rather than being unspeakably humbled and awed, we can even have the audacity to approach our Maker as if He is a grand scientific specimen- dissecting His words, toying with them carelessly, and twisting them whenever it suits our theological purposes.

And then, I'm tempted to be impressed. Not with the Holy One, who I examine detachedly, but with my own meager intellect. Astounding, isn't it? Unless our hearts are postured in humility, a dose of good theology will only inflate our egos. Once infested with pride, even the study of theology becomes detestable in God's eyes. But when theology is studied truly, the very opposite is true. It is impossible to evade being humbled, as the pages of the Bible trumpet the truth about our Lord, and ourselves.

Studying theology is not enough. It must also be studied for the correct reason: To magnify the name of our God, and show others how to join us in doing so.

Poem Sunday - Jan 10th '10

Sea Fever - John Masefield

"I must go down to the seas again, to the

lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer

her by;

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and

the white sail's shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey

dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call

of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be

denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white

clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and

the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the

vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way, where

the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing

fellow-rover,

And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the

long trick's over."

Solitude - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

"Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone.

For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,

But has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;

Sigh, it is lost in the air.

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;

Grieve, and they turn and go.

They want full measure of all your pleasure,

But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;

Be sad, and you lose them all.

There are none to decline your nectared wine,

But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;

Fast, and the world goes by.

Succeed and give, and it helps you live,

But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure

For a long and lordly train,

But one by one we must all file on

Through the narrow aisles of pain."

Be Strong - Maltbie Davenport Babcock

"Be strong!

We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;

We have hard work to do, and loads to lift;

Shun not the struggle - face it; 'tis God's gift.

Be strong!

Say not, "The days are evil. Who's to blame?"

And fold the hands and acquiesce - oh shame!

Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God's name.

Be strong!

It matters not how deep intrenched the wrong,

How hard the battle goes, the day how long;

Faint not - fight on! Tomorrow comes the song"

Vessel of Honour

I know that I am precious to the Lord and that He is overseeing my life, but sometimes it's hard to believe that He has a plan bigger than that one I can see.

"But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay, some for honor and some for dishonor. Therefor if anyone cleanses himself from the latter, he will be a vessel of honor, sanctified and useful for the Master, prepared for ever good work." - 2 Timothy 2:20-21

Some of my friends have gotten married and are having children. I've enjoyed seeing their wedding pictures and watching their families grow. I devour the Christmas emails and I laugh at the cute online videos.

When I see the happiness of the blissfully married, I sometimes yearn for what they have. And why shouldn't I? Their covenant is an earthly picture of the unity between Christ and the church. I am created to recognize the beauty in that.

Perhaps this is the reason that even though I know I am created in God's image as much as anyone, on some level, I feel like less of a person because I'm single. Why else would I feel like changing the topic when people start asking me I am not yet married? Or feel like I have nothing to contribute to all the mommy talk conversations?

Reconciling the call God has on my life with what He is doing in the lives of other can be difficult. And when feelings of inferiority creep in, especially regarding my spiritual life, it makes matters worse.

This is one reason I believe the church has sought to elevate singleness in recent years. Some have used Paul's word in 1 Corinthians 7:8 to make a case for singleness being desirable and even preferable to marriage - "a gift". Those who promote this view may not actually be trying to say that singleness is superior to marriage, but rather establish that singles are equally valuable to God.

We live in a culture in which marrying well is a challenge. Many Christian singles would love to be married, but though they desire marriage, and are praying and preparing for it, it simply has not happened.

While I believe that God's opinion of me is not wrapped up in my marital status, I sometimes receive these messages from those around me. One that is particularly insidious says that a spiritual deficiency of which I am unaware or a lack of God's favor or direction in my life is keeping me single. In other words: If I were holier, I'd me married by now.

That is why I find those verses from 2 Timothy so encouraging. How wonderful to hear God telling me that He has a plan and purpose behind my singleness - especially in my commitment to purity. In His eyes, my single years are not a waste.

Much of the talk on singleness todays seems to either devalue marriage or over-value it. We live in a culture that is hostile towards marriage. TV alone could convince you matrimony is a losing proposition. But that is not God's view: He established marriage to meet humanity's basic need for companionship and intimacy, and, as such, it is His intention for most people.

At the same time, we know that marriage isn't the answer to our deepest longing for communion. Plenty of married couples would tell you some of their loneliest moments have occurred since they tied the knot. At their deepest level, all humans long for communion with Christ. So how can we adopt a balanced view of God's intention for marriage and singleness?

First we must realize that God's will for people isn't dependent on marital status. But faithful and chaste singleness proclaims God. Marriage is an earthy reflection of the union with Christ and other believers awaiting us in heaven. Celibate singleness declares that ultimate union by forgoing sexual union on earth for a season - or, in special cases, for a lifetime.

Ephesians 5:25-27 says: "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her, that He might sanctify and cleanse her with the washing of water by the word, that He might present her to Himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but that she should be holy and without blemish."

By loving their spouses devotedly, married men and women demonstrate on a small scale Christ's love for the church. And by keeping themselves pure, singles express the significance of Christ's coming union with His church (a moment fraught with such greatness that the trials of denying the flesh in this life pale in comparison). In both states - singleness and marriage - a believer reflects Christ through a lifestyle of self-giving.

At this time, I do that by serving the people God has placed in my life- friends, the kids at my church, my classmates. In the future, I may fulfill this calling by serving a husband and children. Now I minister as an individual; in the future, I may minister through a family unit. In both states, my life testifies to God's miraculous plan as I pour it out for His use.

Let me offer some encouragement to those who have either remained virgins or committed themselves to a 'second virginity'. "True love waits" can ring a little hollow as time continues to pass and still no Prince Charming carries you into the sunset. Especially in a culture that places extreme value on sexual conquest and experimentation.

While my convictions are deeply set at this point, I won't say that David's words in Psalm 73:3 don't resonate with me: "Surely I have cleansed my heart in vain, And washed my hands in innocence."

Sometimes I feel like my commitment to sexual purity is a waste. That thinking is the result of living in a world that scorns purity and celebrates licentiousness. But the truth is God cherishes purity. And ultimately, I am not the one who has kept my heart pure; through His Spirit, the Lord has preserved it as a testimony to Himself. This is a high calling. Purity in singleness is a special offering to the Lord.

Yes, sexual purity will set you apart. But set apart (which is the meaning of the word holy) is what God calls us to be (1 Peter 1:15-16). I am reminded of the 10 virgins in Matthew 25. Five of them waited with their lamps full of oil. Their preparedness was a testimony to their desire for the coming bridegroom and their faith that he would actually come.

I have been reminded of my high calling. There have been times when I have felt dissatisfied with my current position in life. Sometimes I wonder if God is really ordering my steps.

I think singles must feel more acutely than most that we are "sojourners and pilgrims" in this world (1 Peter 2:11). The thing is, all people long for something more because this earth is not our true home.

And so the gap between single and married is not so wide after all. All of us wait eagerly for our ultimate union with our heavenly Bridegroom. And as we live faithfully - single or married - our very lives proclaim Christ to the world.

The Strange Ways God Arranges to Forgive

The desiring God blog, written by John Piper, has an excellent post today entitled 'The Strange Ways God Arranges to Forgive'. Check it out here.

And because just writing that makes this post seem much too short, I thought we'd have a little John Piper Fest haha. Here are some quotes that I particularly like:

"The longer I live the less optimistic I am that I will end without sin and the more grateful I become for the blood of Christ imputed to me. As I grow older I do not feel myself becoming gloriously holy but I find myself feeling great love for the gospel."

"Faith is looking away from ourselves to another. Faith is total dependance on another. When faith stands in front of a mirror, the mirror becomes a window with the glory of Christ on the other side. Faith looks to Christ and enjoys him as the sum and judge of all that is true and good and right and beautiful and valuable and satisfying."

"God's wisdom exalts what the cross stands for, and human wisdom is offended by what the cross stands for."

"Jesus Christ is not merely the means of our rescue from damnation; he is the goal of our salvation. If he is not satisfying to be with, there is no salvation.

He is not merely the rope that pulls us from the threatening waves; he is the solid beach under our feet, the air in our lungs, and the beat of our heart, and the warm sun on our skin, and the song in our ears, and the arms of our beloved."

Happy Monday everyone

p.s. I haven't forgotten my promise to make Sundays 'poem sundays', however the holidays have messed with my schedule. It will resume this week, so no worries.

My Dresser Drawer

Not long ago I carried an armload of fresh laundry into my room and separated the shirts from the pants; placing them all in their correct drawers. Folded, tidy. The trouble occurred when I tried to close the drawers. I pushed harder on the thick padding of shirts and pants. No movement. It was full - really, really full. I tossed the remaining pieces of clothing from the neatly folded laundry pile back onto my bed.

Now I must interject, it's not that this dresser drawer is the epitome of disorganization, but rather it was simply so full of clothing that not one more t-shirt was going to fit. And this dresser is not small - it's a decent size dresser. And that's when it hit me.

I suddenly recognized the amazing blessing that was sitting before my eyes - I had completely overlooked it. What I saw at the moment was a brief inconvenience that was causing me trauma. Just think about how many millions would love to have my problem. So many parents who would do anything to give their child the gift of having to struggle to fit all of their clothing in a massive dresser. In that moment, I bent over my dresser and prayed for forgiveness and thanked God for the many blessings I have in my life.

I remembered Jesus' words to those souls who believed that they had the right to enter heaven:

"Depart from Me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was hungry and you have Me no food; I was thirsty and you have Me no drink; I was a stranger and you did not take Me in, naked and you did not clothe Me, sick and in prison and you did not visit Me."

Oh, but "Lord, when did we see You hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to You?"

The reply is chilling, "Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me."

I need to stop complaining and worrying about what I possess and how I dress. God hit me hard on my issue of pride once again. I was proud of what I look like or what I wore and what I possessed. My humility was false because I was taking pride in my humility! I realized that I need to stop worrying about money for college. God will provide. If the birds and flowers were are taken care of, I'll be fine. As the Caedmon's Call song says, "You know the plans you have for me / and You can't plan the ends and not plan the means." I rest assured in the sovereignty of God.

Moreover, I realized that I must see the needs of others, both physically and spiritually. I understand that life is not about me - it's about God and Him glorified through the salvation of souls and the cross. He cares about humanity, and I must care about humanity as well. I must share not only clothing, but also the gospel. That must be the ultimate goal, yet I must not neglect the act of sharing food, or giving money, of clothing the naked, or nursing the sick. I have been commanded to share these blessings. Does that mean giving away clothing? It certainly points to that.

All my life I have been burdened for the unsaved and suffering in our world. But when they have so little, and I have so much, it feels hypocritical to talk about how much I care for them but I could obviously be doing so much more. Nelson Mandela once said that it is not what you are born with that makes one great, but what you do with it. I quote him not because I desire to be great, but because I think it's right for those of use who were born into privilege to use our wealth to bless and take care of those who were not in the name of Christ, not live as though our brothers and sisters in Africa, Asia, etc did not exist.

Stephen Lewis (the former Canadian ambassador to the UN, current UN Secretary-General's special envoy for HIV/AIDS in Africa, director of the Stephen Lewis foundation, and personal idol of mine) said in his book Race Against Time, "I have to say that the ongoing plight of Africa forces me to perpetual rage. It's all so unnecessary, so crazy that hundreds of millions of people should be thus abandoned."

We read things like that, and like the newly released statistics out of Malawi that for their population of twelve millions, there are only three hundred doctors. That means every doctor should be taking care of 40,000 patients each - an impossible goal (Canada has a ratio of 1/470, much better odds). And what do we feel in reaction to these things? Sadness. A sense of injustice. A motivation to help in some way. Guilt. Anger perhaps. But what comes of those feelings? They last for a moment. And then we go out for dinner with our friends and families and laugh and chat and forget. We let ourselves forget because acting on those emotions would lead to sacrifice, and no one likes sacrifice.

Sure, some of us give donations from time to time. Some of us send canned goods around Christmas time. But that's not enough. How long have the western, so-call Christian, countries known about the suffering in Africa and beyond? So why is it still going on while we by ourselves plasma TVs and new cars for Christmas, then attend church the next evening?

Maybe I'm missing something here. Maybe I'm making a bigger deal out of this than I should. But for me, this all doesn't make sense. It just doesn't. I don't get it. And don't get me wrong, I was right in there with the rest of you this holiday season with the gifts and the ever-growing materialism. I'm equally as guilty. But I want to change. I've been commanded to care for the suffering and I don't think Jesus was talking about scribbling a cheque for a charity once a year, or donating clothes that you yourself wouldn't wear anymore to homeless shelters (not that you should stop!). This is a challenge to put others before yourself. Like, really and truly.

The sad thing is that I know this post won't make a difference. Some people may read it and feel momentarily convicted and challenged. But then they will forget, as we always do. Jesus said that the poor will always be among us, and I can see why that is. But I still think it's worth a shot to TRY and do something... or at least give a little more than I already do.