The Line

In their play,
My girls often approach a line,
If it is crossed,
Playing will become fighting.
I don’t know if they know
where the line is
Maybe they are tying to find it.

They compete and play,
sometimes the games imply power.
One will be baby, one will play momma.
One will be monster, one will be superzero.
Or maybe they’ll both be robots.
Right now they’re playing with the hose,
and alas there is only one.

While I write this poem from the shade by the house,
they are taking turns watering the tree
and the grass and the slide.
Perhaps it will grow taller,
like the grass does,
like the tree does.
Like the girls do.
As they play, they laugh and run,
spraying each other
and flirting with the line.
If they cross it, I’ll have to intervene, and the poem will end.
But for now, they run and play
and laugh,
learning something
about life, I suppose.
About the fun you can have
together,
on this side of the line,
on the side where
peace plays.

 

Posted in Family, Free Verse, Poetry | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Kingdom Come: A Sermon about Matthew’s Genealogy

He was the “Son of God”, the “bringer of Good News”, the Lord, the Savior, the one who would restore order and justice to the earth—at least that was Rome’s official story about Caesar.  History also seems to look favorably on the Pax Romana, and in many ways, that version of reality isn’t that far off. The Roman Empire brought relative peace, wealth, and stability to many in the mediterranean world.

However, there was another side to life in Caesar’s world. Beneath the heel of the empire were whole peoples, exploited for the empire’s sake, hopeless to fight back against the efficient military machine of Rome’s storied army. In Palestine, a particularly dark cloud hung over the recipients of Caesar’s “good news”. The Jewish people living in Judea and Galilee lived in a world in which power was king—and they had none of it. They had always been a proud people, and once a powerful nation, but now lived under another flag. Over and over again they rose up to resist the Empire, trying to beat the empire at its own game by asserting their own power—and they failed miserably. Rome brutally asserted its power over what was, to them, a strategic territory filled with a stubborn, irritating, and irrational people. Religious leaders based in the temple used divine distinction to stoke the fires of resentment that justified bouts of armed revolution. Many a would-be leader rose to fame by resisting the Romans, claiming divine consent for their revolutionary attempts to throw the pagans out. Certainly not everyone joined in the violence, but everyone felt the force of Rome’s response to it. To some it was an empire of peace, but to others, it was an empire of violence.

Also, while it was an empire of wealth, it was also an empire of poverty, built on the backs of slaves and enslaved nations. Wealth drifted upward, and the few who controlled land or other means increased their assets while the poor became poorer with each generation. Some of the most recent historical work is trying to move beyond simple binary descriptions as elite/nonelite or haves/have-nots, but even still, the best estimate show that between 75-97 percent of the population in the roman world lived in poverty, if that is defined by living at or near subsistence level.

Beyond that violence and turbulence, the economic conditions were tough as well. Under  the empire and its elite accomplices, a small minority controlled land, food, and wealth. Although historians are working to get beyond simple distinctions like elite/poor, the best estimates now are that somewhere between 75% to 97% of the population across the empire lived in poverty—meaning at or below subsistence levels, with very few resources. Palestine, having been rocked by violence and dependent on agriculture, was worse off than most areas.  For many of the Jews of Palestine, life under the Roman empire was anything but a life of wealth—it was a life of poverty.

As far as stability goes, Rome knew that it needed local leaders who sought to keep the people in check, and found more than enough who were willing to become accomplices to the empire’s power in exchange for a few of the empire’s coins. These imperial elite played a dangerous game, negotiating the terms of the relationship between the people and the empire. When the people were pushed too far, revolution erupted. When the empire’s power was too openly challenged, the military convincingly crushed the opposition. The imperial elites danced between these two, trying to keep both parties reasonably content in the effort to maintain their own power, and often failing. Thus the people of Judea and Galilee faced a cycle of would-be revolution, followed by crackdowns, growing dissatisfaction, and new uprisings.

Caesar promised a world of peace, wealth, and stability. For many of the people living in Jerusalem, Judea, and Galilee in the first century, the reality was a life of violence, poverty, and turbulence. Is it any wonder that many of the people were anxious for a change? Caesar’s world was a world where power stood in the place of justice, where influence held more sway than righteousness, and where rich and the poor were nearly destined to become richer and poorer. Depending on who you were, you either hoped it would go on forever, or hoped and prayed that God would intervene, and remake the world into something else.

The book of Matthew grows out of the latter perspective, and is thoroughly subversive to the empire. It begins with the assumption that this is not Caesar’s world. It is God’s world, and God has been active in it a lot longer than Caesar could imagine. The book’s opening line, “The book of the generations of Jesus Christ” calls us back to Genesis, to the story of God creating the world and of God’s relationships and promises to the patriarchs. It points toward the language Genesis uses to introduce its own narrative (“The book of the generations of the heavens and the earth” Gen 2:4), and to move to new phases of the story. (5:1, 10:1, etc.). Matthew uses it here to let the reader know that he is about to tell about a new phase in that same story. He does all this because he wants us to know, from the very beginning, that this is not a narrative set in Caesar’s world—it is God’s world, and Caesar is just living in it. Beyond that, the genealogy is a substitute for a formula such as “in the days of Caesar Augustus…”, and gives the story of Jesus it’s primary context, which is not in the history of the Roman empire, but in the narrative of God’s covenant people. He is the son of Abraham and the son of David, being born in this moment of the story of God’s people.

Matthew marks the significance of the moment by structuring his genealogical list into three periods. There is the period from Abraham to David, one from David to the Exile, and from the exile to the moment of Jesus. Abraham, David, the Exile, represent critical moments in the story, and by noting the time, Matthew is underlining the importance of Jesus. Matthew 1:17 points out the symmetry of this for the reader, “Thus there were fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Christ.” The only problem is, Matthew’s math is wrong. 

Most of the time, we don’t notice stuff like this because we read the Bible too quickly, but if you count up the named generations Matthew lists, the numbers should be fourteen, fourteen, and thirteen. Now, to be clear, I don’t think that’s a mistake—ancient authors loved to play with numbers in settings like this, and I feel certain that Matthew is doing this on purpose, somewhat playfully. I think he is setting us up to look at the story and ask, “Who comes after Jesus?” It’s a great way to open his book, because the rest of the gospel really teases out this question, as Jesus recruits disciples, teaches them about a new way of life, and then eventually charges them to do the exact same thing, replicating their experience of discipleship throughout the world. The genealogy is therefore connected with the rest of Matthew’s story, right up to the end, where Jesus gives the great commission, “Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.” Matthew’s gospel, from the genealogy to the commission, points to the question, “Who comes after Jesus?” and, I think, to an answer.

The answer is “us.” We are the descendants of Jesus. Ultimately, Jesus’s work is producing a sustained community that lives consciously under the reign of God—a community of which we are now a part. In our living as disciples of Jesus we find ourselves in Jesus’s story, and the mission of his life become our mission. We continue his story. We are the fourteenth generation.

Abraham Lincoln once said, “Some folks worry about who their ancestors were. I am more concerned with who my descendants will be.” Matthew’s story shares that concern, and even the genealogy, which seems to look back, looks forward to the fulfillment of Jesus’s mission. As we take our part in that mission, may we look forward to its fulfillment as well, and trust that to that end  we will be used by God, for God’s own glory.  Amen.

Posted in Bible Study, Discipleship, Matthew, Mission, Narrative Theology, New Testament, Power, Story | Tagged , | 7 Comments

They Came From

A day of long meetings,
hours gazing into computer screens,
competitive offices and tense meetings,
projects with deadlines, or
quotas needing to be filled.

They came from soccer practice,
from the field and its glory
or the parking lot,
where the August sun drains the life out of
moms in minivans.

She came from a lonely home,
from an easy chair that sits
in front of a droning television,
next to an end table with an empty coffee cup,
and a phone that never rings.

They came from homework,
chapters underlined and blanks filled in,
some of them right, some of them wrong,
some left undone,
waiting to be turned in for approval.

He came from the worst fight,
(or at least it feels that way),
that he’s ever had with his wife.
Tomorrow’s might be worse,
might be the one that ends it all.

And here they all are, together.
Though they are also
in those places, still.

 

Posted in Free Verse, Poetry | 4 Comments

Google+, Circles, and the Integrated Self

Google has created quite the stir in the world of tech and social media nerds with the release of Google+, their latest foray into the world of social media. Google has for some time desired to capture a greater share of the online advertising revenue pie by leveraging the time users already spend using google products like Google Search, Gmail, Reader, and Google Docs into additional time spent within a social media stream. In other words, they are thinking something like, “If we can get people using our search process to naturally stay in our online system, the hours they normally spend on facebook will belong to us, and make us loads of money through advertising!” In turn, they would love to be able to leverage data collected in the social sphere to enhance and personalize their search results, thus strengthening their relationship to customers on multiple levels, creating super customers. (Read: people whose eyeballs see a lot of ads, and whose fingers make a lot of clicks.)

I don’t mean that cynically—I just think it’s important to note that their ultimate motive is to gain share of advertising revenue. Many consumers, particularly within the online space, seem to accept the illusion that the product is offered for free out of the goodness of the company’s heart. Facebook is, of course, motivated by the same factor.

What’s really interesting to me as a cultural/sociological comment is a fundamental feature of the way Google+ has been built. As I’ve played around with the interface (which I like very much) It’s clear that Google+ has been built around a super-duper version of a feature present in facebook. It’s like facebook’s “friend list” feature on steroids, with a charming personality. Google calls it circles, and describes it this way:

You share different things with different people. But sharing the right stuff with the right people shouldn’t be a hassle. Circles makes it easy to put your friends from Saturday night in one circle, your parents in another, and your boss in a circle by himself, just like real life.

Mashable’s initial article on Google+ provides some insight into this design feature, and what google is thinking with it:

The focus of this social project is not on sharing with a mass group of friends, but on targeted sharing with your various social groups. To do this, Google uses a system called Circles.

[Vic] Gundotra [Google’s senior vice president of social] explained that most social media services (read: Facebook, Twitter) haven’t been successful with friend lists because they’ve been designed as a “tack-on” product rather than being integrated at every level. Gundotra also believes that current friend list products are awkward and not rewarding to use.

I honestly feel a bit conflicted about Circles. Not so much the design and implementation—I agree that google’s iteration is fantastic, a great improvement on facebook’s way of managing friend lists. However, I wonder if there isn’t something of a human problem here. Is it really a great idea to make it easier to subdivide our lives—and the people in them into categories? Sure, google makes it easier to manage the different silos, but are the silos themselves a good idea? This might be a really efficient way to destroy a cohesive picture of our lives. After all, it essentially is a way to make sure that we are able to project a different message to different spheres of our lives. It facilitates a move away from knowing and projecting ourselves as integrated wholes. There is no integrated self in this world, just messages project to certain groups for certain purposes. Isn’t that a little cynical? I understand the such to creates spheres of privacy, but isn’t there some value in being a whole, public person?

I mean, this function is great as a message sender, but doesn’t it greatly limit how much we can trust each other when in the role as message receiver? Doesn’t it limit our ability to trust that what we see from a person is real? And although that is an old uncertainty, I think that perhaps google’s play to make our disintegration more efficient is perhaps a little dangerous.

If you’re on google+, go ahead and add me. The link is on the right. Just don’t expect me to tell you what circle I’m putting you in.

Posted in Social Media | Tagged | 5 Comments

Check Thyself—Two Questions for Disciples Using Social Media

Generally speaking, I’m a fan of social media—the things life Facebook, Twitter, and now Google+ that have become a significant part of the way many people communicate and keep up with each other. They allow us to express ourselves as a stream words and images, and allow those expressions of ourselves to come into conversation with our friends, families, and the community at large. They approach our very human desire to hear and be heard, to see and be seen. They foster at least the feeling of connection, and I believe at times can help sustain connections made in the flesh and bone world we live in. They produce connections with a small threshold of commitment, which of course can be helpful in some ways, and in other ways threatens to water down our sense of human connection.

All in all I think that social media can help support a healthy social life, although (as in any social experience) there are dangers to be recognized. Although the technology is perhaps value neutral, the experience is almost necessarily not value neutral. Depending on the people you follow/friend/encircle(?), and the patterns of interaction you develop, social media can be a brutally negative force in your life, or a positive tool for good.  Like with anything else, it is important to check yourself periodically, to evaluate yourself and your involvement in the social media world. For people who are committed to being followers of Jesus, we have to search out whether our patterns of interaction resonate with the story of Jesus and the world.  If there is too much dissonance between those stories, than we need to do something different.  Here are two critical questions you can ask yourself as you evaluate:

1. Is my time in social media well-invested? This is a critical question, and please understand I don’t assume the answer is “No.” Indeed, when used well, social media can help you reinforce connections with people, stimulate useful conversation, and help manage a high number of relationships. It can be a way of sharing experiences with people or pointing towards your real community interactions. It can be a way of sharing life with each other and really developing our understanding and concern for each other, something critical to the mission of Jesus. But even it’s most ardent defenders and users need to recognize that it can be an incredible time-suck. It can deplete your life by keeping you away from real time with family and friends, from work that needs to be done, or a good book that will add something of your life. None of this glorifies God. Held out of balance it can be poison, and everyone that uses social media needs to really check themselves on whether they are spending an inappropriate amount of time checked into that world and out of the concrete one.

2. What’s my message?  Because it is online and can feel like a distant form of conversation, people sometimes seem to believe that it’s okay to say whatever you’re feeling in any given moment in your facebook status or tweet, as if it’s the same thing as screaming by yourself in your car, or singing in the shower. Let me be clear: It’s not. We are ethically responsible for the things we say. What we say or don’t say is important, and that responsibility isn’t decreased in social media. On the contrary, it’s greatly increased, because social media is public communication. Here’s a guideline: Would you be okay with that status update, tweet, or picture being posted on a billboard with your name on it? Because using social media is a lot more like that than it is writing in your journal or screaming in your car. It is extremely public, and surprisingly permanent. You are creating a message, and it’s foolish not to consider what that message is. If you just need to vent, start calling a friend on the phone or go buy a journal. (By the way, in practical terms, I wouldn’t hire somebody who is always complaining about her job on twitter, nor would I easily respect somebody who consistently and aggressively complains about his parents on facebook.)

The fact that the record of your message is persistent and by default permanent can be disturbing, but it also gives you a great opportunity to check yourself and evaluate on this point. I have a very concrete suggestion here that I would beg you to take. Once every couple of months, you should go to your own facebook wall or twitter stream, and read through the things you’ve posted, asking yourself “If someone read through this who didn’t know me in any other way, what would they think?” (This is a great question, and I appreciate Alex Cone for giving it to me.)  Seriously, you need to do this periodically, and if you’re a disciple, you should ask with an eye to what people would think not just about you, but about the sort of God you serve. Do it today. Right now.  And then think about the message you really want to send.

Posted in Discipleship, Social Media | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Story (As Told by Steven, at This Moment, in This Place)

I’ve been thinking a good bit lately about the nature of scripture, and particularly the grand narrative of the biblical text. There are a lot of synopses of the story,  but I’ve been tinkering with my own, a task that might not be a bad idea for most believers to work on every now and then. Recognizing that such a synopsis necessarily leaves things out and focuses on some elements at the expense of others, I’d love a little feedback on where I’m at with this version. I mean “Version” pretty intentionally, recognizing that it reads a little differently than it would have a year ago, or likely will a year from now. What’s here is a reflection of the story I see myself in right now. What do you see as missing or distorted here?

The world and humanity were created by God, but became estranged from God because of human sin, and thus the world became broken. As a result, God set about revealing Himself to Abraham and his descendants, forming them into a people whose destiny was the blessing of the world—God would reconcile himself to humanity through Israel, and thereby heal what was broken.

Although it appeared God’s plan would at times be thwarted by Israel’s unfaithfulness and resulting exile, God continued to pursue his plan through Israel, and eventually was victorious in creating the possibility of true reconciliation in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. After his resurrection, God began using Jesus’s followers to proclaim the message of his reign, and to exemplify that reign within a new form of human community which we know as church. The church carries out that mission today, while trusting the promise that at some point God will assert his ruling authority over the whole earth, and thus bring the world back into its proper state. At that time there will be a resurrection of those faithful to Jesus, what was broken will be made right, and God’s reign will be fully realized.

I’d love to hear your feedback on this!

Posted in Bible Study, Narrative Theology, Theology | Tagged | 3 Comments

The Pout-Pout Fish

Kelly and I are starting to be a little more intentional about building something of a library for the girls, and since I have a devil of a time finding good books for them, I thought I’d share the good ones that we find along the way.

The current favorite for our girls (who are 4) is The Pout-Pout Fish by  Deborah Diesen. It’s a fun little book written in metered verse, and I can’t help but kind of sing it as I read it to the girls—mostly in a silly jazzy voice. It’s just too fun, and the repeating refrain throughout the book is just too darn catchy, and I can’t help myself. The colorful illustrations by Dan Hanna are cartoony, drawn in a muppetish sort of style—I like looking at all the fun little sea creatures that play on the pages, and for some reason they throw just the right amount of attention at the main story. Most of the little creatures are there just looking along at the story along with us as we read.

The story moves along at a good pace, as a fish who believes himself to be destined to have a pouty expression converses with his sea creature friends and neighbors in turn. They try to talk him out of his deterministic view point, and well the story over along from there. I like that the tale does cut against the fish’s “this is just the way I am and I can’t do anything about it” mentality—I do hope our girls grow up to think of themselves as more than victims of circumstance, after all, and any help we can get teaching them that along the way is pretty welcome in our house.  I like that aspect of this little picture book, but of course that wouldn’t be worth beans except for the fact that girls really do love the book, and for the past few weeks it’s been getting requested almost every night by one of them. If you’ve got kids that are still in to picture books, grab a copy of this, and have a blast reading it to them. I’m having a blast reading it to ours.

(While linking this, I saw that there’s a follow up book…might pick that up next month. Has anybody read it?)

Posted in Book Reviews, Children's Books | 5 Comments

Using Questions to Teach

Discussing Discussions

Increasingly, adult education in churches has depended upon discussion formats and less on lecture formats.  An increasing number of students expect there to be some level of discussion, whether that takes place in smaller discussion groups or with a larger class as a whole.  This shift has some very positive qualities to it, as it enables perspectives to be heard that otherwise would not, asks students to contribute from their own experiences, and think on an application level.  It also can help produce a warm, casual, and comfortable environment.

The shift has negatives as well, though, which often go unnoticed in the rush to adopt the new style of teaching.  It’s easy to imagine that because of the time used by discussion, then the teacher needs less time to prepare for the class.  As a result, sometimes discussion times are used as a crutch to cover over poor class preparation.  This robs the class!  It’s important to make sure that we are using discussion as a tool for the right reason.  As a teacher, I have to ask, am I doing this just to take some of the pressure off of myself, or because it’s what everybody expects, or is it the best way to accomplish the goals of the class?  Starting off with the right reasons for using discussion as a mode of teaching goes a long way towards making sure I’m using it the right way, because done properly, managing and encouraging effective discussions is a lot of work!  It takes thinking ahead, using the right balance of active energy and passive receptivity to elicit the right responses, and using the right kinds of questions.

 

Good Questions

But what are the right kinds of questions?  It takes some skill and practice to realize what will work and what won’t when preparing to lead discussions, and even master teachers sometimes ask a dud.  Here are some things to keep in mind as you develop the skill of leading discussions and grow into a master teacher!

 

What’s the purpose of this question?  Is it to discover new perspectives or to just get everybody talking?  Am I trying to get people to provide information or express feelings?  Think through what you want to accomplish with each question you ask.  How does it fit into the overall plan for your class?  Does it contribute to what you are wanting to accomplish, or does it just fill space?

How many different answers to this question are possible?  A question that has only one right answer is a dead end discussion.  Most people won’t even give that answer, because they sense the dead air that’s going to follow it.  A good discussion question has not only the possibility, but the probability of many different answers.

Who can reasonably respond to this question?  In a related sense, there are some questions that only invite certain members of the class to respond.  Does the question require extensive pre-knowledge to answer, or a certain type of job or life experience?  This isn’t a deal-killer for a discussion question, but it can help you think through what is likely to happen and what is not likely to result from a particular discussion question.

What can I follow the discussion with in order to enrich the discussion and validate it?  This is both a question of preparation and one that is ongoing in the mind of the teacher in the middle of the discussion.  This does not only mean validating the responses given, but demonstrating that the whole discussion moves the class closer to a desired goal.

How does the Word respond to the discussion?  In completing the process, what are some ways that scripture might respond to the discussion, or add to it?

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Preaching on Power

I am super-stoked about preaching this weekend. It’s about power, which underlies so much of the world, but of which we speak so inadequately about. Here is some of the design work that goes with the sermon.

Sometimes the sermon comes easier than others. This week’s had to go through a lot of wrestling, but in the end, after a lot of listening and struggle, I’m extremely excited to share it with the church.

“They sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind.”

Posted in design, Hosea, Preaching | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Thoughts on Mission Trips

This past week I joined my brother Jeremi and some new friends in Antigua for a mission trip. Over a week the team found itself in all sorts of kingdom work, from medical work, a construction project, a soccer camp and a lot of time teaching kids about God in VBS settings.  Of course, within and beyond those projects there were relationships being formed that I hope embodied something of the love of Christ. I hope some of those relationships will continue.

I’m a fan of the mission trip process. I’ve had several opportunities to go over the years, particularly in my time in youth ministry. I really been able to see what I think is kingdom work taking a lot of forms in those trips, as the church partners with people in communities to help address some of the brokenness of the world. Sometimes that comes in the form of concrete progress in some sort of building project, some times it’s been highly relational, and of course a good bit of it has been simply showing love to children. I really do think in all of that God’s kingdom finds expression—healing comes, at least in part—to the things that are broken in the world. Sometimes the effect is substantial, and I think permanent. Often, it’s just a glimpse of the way the world could will be, as the evil which creates hostility between people is put aside.

Beyond the good that happens in the physical places we travel to, I think substantial good also happens within our own hearts. A lot of the things we want to accomplish in terms of spiritual formation are just difficult to move forward while we remain in our typical spheres of experience. A cross-cutural mission trip can open us up to new experiences and perspectives, and help us escape the selfishness that so often consumes us before we ever realize its power. That’s been true in my own experience, and, I think, in the lives of a lot of people that I’ve been able to travel with over the years. (Barna has some statistics suggesting it is broadly true for mission trip participants.) In other words, it gives us a taste of what life under God’s reign can be like, and I think we typically find that to be an incredible experience–so much so, that we come back with a renewed desire to live in God’s reign all the time.

Both of these effects—the kingdom work at the mission site and that within our hearts— need to be held in balance.  The first set keeps us from being exploitative—we need to make sure we are actually doing real good, or mission trips devolve into an ironic selfishness by which we take advantage of others for our own spiritual experience. On the other hand, making sure we think through the formative aspect can help groups become more prepared to join God’s work wherever they find it, and perhaps better prepared to do more real good throughout their lives.

This time of year, lots of trips like this are going on. May the church be prepared to continue the process of transformation that such trips initiate and intensify, and may God’s kingdom continue to break into our world as we learn what it means to partner with him—all the time—in healing the brokenness of the world.

(Thanks to the people at CrossPoint for letting me tag along!)

Posted in Ministry, Mission, Youth Ministry | Leave a comment