The Greater Glory

Okay, okay, I admit it: I am a lazy blogger.  But when you find a quotation this great, why spend the effort needed to be all original and witty?

From Dr. Kevin T. Bauder:

Indeed, the righteousness of the law presents a vague and hazy picture that snaps into crystal clarity in the person of Christ. Now that Christ has come, I find that He is the fulfillment of the law. All of the beauties that I see dimly in the law are disclosed with brilliant precision in Jesus Christ. It is not that the law has become less glorious. Instead, its glory has been eclipsed by the greater glory of Christ. If the law is like a travel brochure with little, grainy pictures, Christ is Himself the destination. 

            
All that I love about the law, I love about Christ to an exponentially greater degree. My delight in the law feeds directly into a delight in Christ. In a manner of speaking, Christ has taken over the place of the law for me, in the fullest, most forgiving, and most enabling sense. He himself has become my law insofar as reflecting His person and character has become my rule of life. This “law of Christ” (take that as apposition) has displaced the law of commandments and rendered them inoperative, not by canceling them, but by fulfilling them and enabling the righteousness to which they point.
            
In sum, I cannot despise God’s law because it offers a preliminary (if somewhat obscure) picture of Christ. I love the law for His sake. At the same time, to be fascinated with the picture rather than the person would not honor either one. Christ offers me the beauties of the law without its terrors because He has endured its terrors for me. Ultimately, He is my law (not as a different law, but as the fulfillment of all divine law). As the Holy Spirit transforms my character to resemble His, I hope for my practice to take on the majestic contours of a life that truly honors the law.

Read the entire article here.

Can't spell "flaunt" without "aunt"!

I can contain my auntie-pride no longer.  Introducing...Marianna!

And here's big brother Aaron keeping her entertained...

7 Things I Learned from My Dad

The importance of regular oil changes.

The art of the pun.

The merits of Exedrin, Gordon Lightfoot, and The Far Side.

The value of silence and solitude.

The joy of learning.

The dignity of hard work.

The preeminence of God's Word.

20,001 Reasons to Know the 10 Commandments

Reason #1: Because they come directly from the mind and heart of your Creator and Judge.

Not that we should need any more motivation than that, but here are 20,000 more reasons:

Uninsured... And Loving It.

I have news for Mr. Obama: I am uninsured and I like it that way.

I've been a member of Samaritan Ministries' Christian Health Care Newsletter program for almost 2 years now, and I will never go back to health insurance.  Let me rephrase that: I will never go back to health insurance... unless the government makes me.

The concept of the Christian Health Care Newsletter is refreshingly simple (funny how biblical concepts often are): every month I receive the name/address/medical concern of another member.  I send a card with a personal note and a check directly to him/her.  I pray for complete healing, as well as patience and peace in the midst of suffering.  If I were to wind up with medical bills, the same would be done for me by other members.

Because every applicant must pledge Christian conduct, including no smoking or illicit relationships, and supply written approval from his/her pastor and another Christian, my checks do not go to support health problems that are the result of unbiblical behavior.  I love that.  A lot.

Since I've never had to be on the receiving end, my membership in the CHN was somewhat abstract--until this past February.  My assigned need for the month was a woman who had lost her husband to a heart attack, and now had piles of hospital bills.  I sent my share and prayed for her, but it wasn't till a couple weeks later that I got a note from an old college friend... it was her dad who had passed away.  She had been helping her mom sort through the 600 (yes, 600!) cards from praying Christians, when she saw my name, as well as another college classmate's.  Helping a friend's family through such a deep loss--that's priceless.

"Bear one another's burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ."  Galatians 6:2

Titus Got Me Thinking...

The Book of Titus has captured my attention recently.  Specifically, the emphasis on "good deeds"--in only three chapters, they are referenced six times.  While Paul makes it crystal-clear that good deeds have nothing to do with salvation (see Titus 3:5), he is emphatic that good deeds are the high and non-negotiable calling of those who have experienced spiritual re-birth.  His instruction to "be careful to engage in good deeds" (3:8) implies far more forethought and intention than I usually put in.

Anyway, last night as I was spending some time in Titus, I started recalling different instances when I have been on the receiving end of a good deed.  The list would be endless if I were to recount every nice thing that someone has done for me.  However, some memories stick out, and they all have a common denominator: the good deed was from a stranger.

Elsewhere I have recounted a woman's kindness on a Greyhound bus headed to Minnesota, and how it influenced me to turn around and (grudgingly at first) express the same sort of generosity on another Greyhound barreling down I-70, years later.  I don't remember that woman's name, but through our conversation I learned she had a personal relationship with God, too.  She was returning home from one of many visits to her father, who lay slowly wasting away in a cancer hospital.  Despite her personal pain, she had made a point of packing extra blankets to share with fellow travelers.  That's what I call "being careful to engage in good deeds."

Last summer, when I went to pay for a tankful of gas with a gift card that the cashier rejected, the young man behind me in line offered to take care of my bill.  I could have paid with a credit card, or even cash, but by this point in my life I had learned a valuable lesson: let a man be chivalrous.  I asked his name and thanked him sincerely as the cashier ran his card for both our bills.  He accepted my gratitude quietly and immediately left after signing the receipt.  As he drove away, the cashier informed me that my quiet benefactor was a soldier on leave.  Two minutes ago I had been steaming mad at this coarse woman with greasy hair, for rejecting my gift card.  But at that moment, we were drawn together in appreciation for a good deed.  "God bless him," she muttered as we stood watching the soldier's pick-up drive out of sight.  Yes, God bless him--whoever he is.

Then there was the scholarship from an anonymous donor while in Bible college.  And the self-sacrificing way an upper-classman I didn't know from Adam sat down and took the time to get to know me, when I was previewing the college.  (This one didn't stay a stranger; I count her among my closest friends today.)  And the compliment a toll-booth worker paid me on a long, lonely drive.  "Has anyone ever told you you have gorgeous eyes?" from a high school-age boy is a good deed that will perk up a tired female traveler for a good many mile.

This is just a sampling.

Here's to good deeds.  Here's to strangers who--perhaps without realizing it--are agents of God's grace in our lives.

And Christians, we've got some work to do.  Let's get busy.

What's your story of a stranger's good deed?

Marianna Joy Clark

What a beautiful name, don't you think?  My first niece was born early this morning.  Lord willing, I'll get to meet her at Labor Day.  Welcome, Marianna!

Ready or not?

Let's review today's top news stories:

>> Our President proclaims this month "Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month."

>> An anti-abortion activist is charged with murdering abortionist Dr. George Tiller at his church yesterday.

>> A plane is confirmed to have crashed in the Atlantic, killing 228 people.

Still, God's grace endures.

So take a deep breath.

Read Lamentations 3 and maybe Daniel 9.

And bring to mind Jesus' words, still crackling with life, still ringing with hope and truth and promise:

"Yes, I am coming quickly."

Are you ready?

In Praise of Homesteaders, Prairies, and all things Midwestern

Today's entry of "The Writer's Almanac" included this bit of history trivia:

"It was on this day in 1862 that President Abraham Lincoln signed the Homestead Act. Settlers who paid a filing fee of 10 dollars and agreed to live on a piece of land for at least five consecutive years were given 160 acres for free. By 1900, homesteaders had filed 600,000 claims for 80 million acres. Willa Cather's parents set out to homestead in Nebraska, Laura Ingalls Wilder's parents in South Dakota, Lawrence Welk's family in North Dakota, and George Washington Carver in Kansas."

As a lover of history, a lover of America, and especially a lover of the Great Plains, I tip my metaphorical hat to the Cathers, the Ingallses, the Welks, the Carvers, and the other 600,000+ homesteaders.  My own grandfather, who I sadly never had the chance to meet, was one of those who rode a covered wagon west with his family, post-Homestead Act, to the young state of South Dakota.

It was an almost sacred quest for land.  Until the Homestead Act, land ownership the world over had pretty much only been for the wealthy and well-bred, or for those who were willing to fight tooth and nail for it.  And now: ten dollars for a square quarter-mile of rich soil?  A tenspot for the chance to start over, make something of yourself, do what your parents had only dreamt of doing in the Old Country?  Inconceivable.

Hollywood would have us believe it was just as much a quest for freedom, adventure, and that soul-longing to watch the sun set over unpeopled hills.  Maybe it was for some.  But I wonder if most homesteaders wouldn't have identified more with the fright Willa Cather felt upon reaching the untamed, eerily quiet prairie which was to be her home.  She wrote this about the wagon journey she made as a young girl from Virginia to Nebraska:

"As we drove further and further out into the country, I felt a good deal as if we had come to the end of everything--it was a kind of erasure of personality.  I would not know how much a child's life is bound up in the woods and hills and meadows around it, if I had not been thrown out into a country as bare as a piece of sheet iron."

The land grew on her, though.  Later she wrote: "We come and go, but the land is always here.  And the people who love it and understand it are the people who own it--for a little while."  Cather loved and understood better than most this land and its people.  Her books O Pioneers! and My Antonia are poignant portraits of homesteading life on "the divide" of south-central Nebraska.  Another deeply moving book I came across along these lines is Giants in the Earth by O.E. Rolvaag.  Of course, there's also the timeless Little House on the Prairie series.  And right now I'm savoring each page of The Dry Divide by Ralph Moody, which takes place around Oberlin, Kansas a good deal after homesteading days, but tells the same story: working the land as a means of survival--and falling in love with it in the process.

If I had a dime for every complaint I've heard from easterners (or westerners too, for that matter) about the topography of the rural Midwest--well, I'd have just about enough to buy a ranch there myself.  "It's so flat...there's nothing to look at...I got bored out of my mind driving across Nebraska...when I finally saw the Rockies ahead I promised myself I would never make that drive down I-70 again..."

Mindless complaining--we Americans have become experts at this.  I think such remarks do a disservice to both the pioneers and homesteaders of yesterday, and the farmers and ranchers of today.  Remember, one Kansas farmer feeds 129 people plus you.  And though $50,000 combines have replaced teams of horses pulling headers and binders, the love for the land is still alive and well.  If that love is beyond your understanding, read Cather.  Or at the very least, shut up.  My goodness, it felt good to write that.

I'm no agriculture guru; I didn't even grow up on a farm, which is what everyone assumes when they hear my roots are in South Dakota/Minnesota/Kansas.  But I do know the reserved, stalwart people of the Great Plains have a special place in my heart.  I know America is the better for its vast middle-section and its people who stick out tornadoes and drought and the lure of an easier life in the city.  And I know that right now I would give anything to hear the music of wind in wheat and see 180 degrees of blue sky--the same sky that greeted the courageous homesteaders 150 years ago.

Good Thoughts for Good Friday, Part II

Upon that cross of Jesus

Mine eye at times can see

The very dying form of One

Who suffered there for me;

And from my smitten heart with tears

Two wonders I confess,—

The wonders of His glorious love

And my unworthiness.

Elizabeth C. Clephane

"Beneath the Cross of Jesus"

Good Thoughts for Good Friday

This is an academic look at the doctrinal implications of the death and resurrection of Christ, i.e. "the gospel." It is an excerpt from an article written by Dr. Kevin Bauder. It's lengthy but worth the read.

The gospel is not primarily about the amelioration of social, economic, cultural, or environmental evils. It may entail these things, but it is about the forgiveness of personal sins, of individual transgressions of divine law. Because God cannot overlook our sins, He has provided a substitute to bear His wrath in our place. Therefore, the gospel affirms that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He was seen of many witnesses. [See I Corinthians 5:1-7]

The gospel deals with historical events: the death of Jesus on the cross, and the subsequent resurrection of His body from the tomb. The gospel is not an ethical code, a moral philosophy, a liturgical ceremony, or a system for self-improvement. Rather, it deals with historical events, real happenings that occurred in space and time.

The gospel, however, does not merely narrate these events. It explains them, and the explanation is what makes the difference. That Jesus died on the cross, by itself, is not even a particularly interesting fact. Thousands died on Roman crosses whose names we do not care to know. What matters is not merely that Christ died, but that He died for our sins. When this explanation is attached to the event, it constitutes a doctrine.

The same is true of Jesus’ resurrection. That a corpse might be resuscitated is certainly a scientific curiosity, but not necessarily a matter of any spiritual interest. What grips us about Jesus’ resurrection is that “Christ is risen from the dead and become the firstfruits of them that slept.” We understand that “since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead.” With Paul we affirm that “as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive.” Because of Jesus’ resurrection, we have confidence that “the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” These affirmations explain the significance of Christ’s resurrection. Attached to the event of Christ’s resurrection, they are doctrine.

The foregoing implies that the gospel is irreducibly doctrinal. Without doctrine, we have no gospel. In some sense, doctrine does save, because the gospel itself is doctrinal.

Moreover, the doctrines do more than simply repeat the core affirmations of the death of Christ for our sins and His resurrection from the dead. The proposition, “Christ died for our sins,” implies that we had sins, that eternal judgment for sins is approaching, that our sins required condemnation, that we could not deliver ourselves from that condemnation. The same proposition implies that Christ was a qualified sin bearer, which implies both His deity and His humanity, which in turn necessitates the virgin birth. The fact that we know these things “according to the Scriptures” implies both the authority and the veracity of the written Word of God.

These doctrines [...] are essential to the gospel. [They] must be guarded as a precious heritage.

Taking the "blah" out of "blog"

Notice anything different?  Yep, I'm in the midst of overhauling the ol' Utah Journal.  After all, even the Mona Lisa needs dusted and hung in a new spot every now and again.  It's all part of a series of blogging classes I'm taking at the library.  Stay tuned, esteemed reader(s).

Cularious!

I was wondering if I could figure out how to post a video; turns out to be easy as pie.  Easy as eating pie, that is.  Making pie is a different story.  Anyhow, I know I'm biased and all, but I find this little video of my nephew, Aaron, cularious (cute + hilarious).  Notice how the kid always has to have music going and has come up with his own makeshift boombox (a musical truck my folks gave him for Christmas).  He has a very bright future as a deejay like his aunt or perhaps a musician; probably, he's not going to win any coordination awards (again, like his aunt).

Up next: a tongue stud?

My facial hardware has increased by 200% during the last few months. The braces were very painful for the first few days, but I'm seeing huge improvements already and I'm so excited about the end result. Meanwhile, I don't eat popcorn, I carry a toothbrush with me everywhere, and I spend 15 minutes every evening flossing. I make it fun by listening to CDs I borrow from the library.

The glasses are my first pair ever, and I wouldn't even have them except that I work for an eye doctor. It's good advertising. In case in you're into such things, as I am, they're designer frames--"Ambrosia" by BCBGMAXAZRIA, with polycarbonate, anti-reflective lenses. I love them! Even though my prescription is pretty slight, it's amazing how colors "pop" and everything seems that much more brilliant when I'm wearing my glasses.

So what's next, a tongue stud? An eyebrow ring? Alas, the magnets on my fridge already slide toward me whenever I come near. I'd better call it quits on the metal for now.

The Loft

Several people have asked what my apartment looks like. I humbly present... The Loft. Come visit!

Oswald, A.W. and George

Three great excerpts from three great writer-thinkers:

Our Lord [...] was never suspicious, never bitter, never in despair about any man, because He put God first in trust; He trusted absolutely in what God's grace could do for any man. If I put my trust in human beings first, I will end in despairing of everyone; I will become bitter, because I have insisted on man being what no man can ever be--absolutely right. Never trust anything but the grace of God in yourself or in anyone else.

--Oswald Chambers

What is generally overlooked is that truth as set forth in the Christian Scriptures is a moral thing; it is not addressed to the intellect only, but to the will also. It addresses itself to the total man, and its obligations cannot be discharged by grasping it mentally. Truth engages the citadel of the human heart and is not satisfied until it has conquered everything there. The will must come forth and surrender its sword. It must stand at attention to receive orders, and those orders it must joyfully obey. Short of this any knowledge of Christian truth is inadequate and unavailing.

--A.W. Tozer

There is a great difference between "I wish I were" and "I would like to be." To be content is not to be satisfied. No one ought to be satisfied with the imperfect. It is God's will that we should contentedly bear what He gives us. But at the same time, we can look forward with hope to the redemption of the body.

--George MacDonald's character "Polwarth" in The Curate's Awakening

Only Nuns Change Habits Overnight

It's a privilege to participate in blog tours of newly-released books from WaterBrook/Multnomah. When this book was introduced, I leapt at the chance to review it, for two reasons:

1. I have some bad habits that I despise, and I want to be free. (And if you think I'm going to bare my soul with the specifics here, you've got another thing coming.)

2. If there's one thing I love in this fallen world, it's the clever, humorous usage of the English language. The book's title is precisely that--as are the chapter titles (e.g. "What if the Hokey Pokey Really IS What It's All About?").

What I missed in the hurried sign-up process was the subtitle: "52 Amazing Ways to Master the Art of Personal Change." But I figured it out quickly when the book arrived and I began reading: this book was not going to change my bad habits, it was going to tell me how to change them.

Rats! That takes work. And time. And painful honesty with myself. And failure before success. And more work. And lots and lots more time.

OK, I'll admit one (and only one!) of the bad habits I'm aching to change: procrastination.

Yet, here it is, January 4... and the book review was supposed to be posted by January 2. I would laugh at the irony, except I'm too sick of this habit to laugh.

The thing is, I don't procrastinate everything. And I didn't used to be that way...it started in college. And I bet I could change if I really tried. Besides, it's never gotten me in too much trouble, so how bad of a habit can it be?

OK... Rationalizing my mistakes. That's another bad habit I have, I admit. (But seriously, this is the last admission you people are dragging out of me.)

But since it's already obvious, I may as well come to terms with my awful habit of rambling when I write, and using excessive punctuation and sentence fragments. And then there's my addiction to limericks...

I am only on #20 of the 52 Ways to Master the Art of Personal Change (did I mention the habit of reading too slowly?), but I'm ready to recommend it if you, like I, are ready to change. Just get ready to roll your eyes at the author's corny humor along the way. The 52 suggestions Karen Scalf Linamen offers vary from so-simple-I-can't-believe-you're-getting-paid-to-write-that, to agonizingly difficult. I've done a couple and they work. Oh, they don't miraculously make you brush your teeth after every meal like you've always meant to...or stop judging others by appearances...or start praying for God's will and meaning it... but they do get you re-evaluating your habits and beginning the process of change.

Thank you, Mrs. Linamen, for writing the book I need. I just wish you would do the work of changing my habits.

Sigh. Yes, laziness is another bad habit I have...

Only Nuns Change Habits Overnight can be purchased here: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1400074002

A Case of Mistaken Identity

Here's a little something I wrote for a magazine that KEYY advertises in, which goes to senior citizens in Utah Valley...

It was an unfortunate case of mistaken identity.

I was 11 years old and was shopping in a Pamida store, when I found something to show my brother. He didn't come when I called. Since I could see him from the corner of my eye, I knew he was ignoring me. "Tim!" I said again, "Look at this!" Annoyed when he still didn't respond, I walked toward him. He was bent over, facing away from me, the seat of his pants temptingly within reach of my foot.

I like to think I didn't kick; I prefer to recall it as a slight tap with the toe of my shoe. Regardless, my brother jumped and spun around with a breathless "Excuse me?"—except it wasn't my brother. It was a middle-aged woman in a blue Pamida smock. My brother was two aisles away, I discovered as I ran toward the door, my face flaming.

Embarrassing, to say the least. I have never entered that Pamida since, afraid the woman in the blue smock will recognize the source of her recurrent nightmares.

Sometimes mistaken identity isn't so funny; sometimes it goes far beyond mere embarrassment.

In Matthew 16, Jesus asked His disciples what people were saying about Him. They replied, "Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets."

Talk about mistaken identity! Some Israelites were convinced Jesus was a man who had died centuries before. Others weren't quite sure but admitted He was a bit out-of-the-ordinary. They were impressed with His miracles, and His peculiar teachings gave them something to talk about over supper. That's as far as it went.

Unperturbed, Jesus asked, "But whom say ye that I am?" Peter spoke up: "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God."

What would you have said? Who is Jesus to you? A religious teacher? An irrelevant historical figure?

Later, Jesus explained His identity this way: "I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me" (John 14:6).

Peter got it right. Jesus was--and still is--the one and only Son of God, the one and only way God has provided to come to God. His identity is all-important and non-negotiable. So are the consequences for your beliefs about Him.

Me, Myself and I AM

One Sunday morning when I was twelve, I was sitting in a church service, full of pre-teen angst.

I am sorry to say I was not listening to the sermon. No, I was thinking how lonely, unfair, and--above all --how misunderstood my life was.

I have forgotten why, but that particular morning I was ready to boil over. It was then that an infinitely patient God, knowing I wasn't paying attention to my dad's preaching, placed a thought in my head: journal.

Of course, I thought it was my own clever idea. As soon as I got home that afternoon, I raided Mom's closet for a notebook. The victim I chose had a dark blue cover to reflect my mood, and it was college ruled so I could cram all my self-righteous assertions into its unsuspecting pages.

I wasted no time. Finally, I thought, I have an outlet for self-expression. Make that selfish expression. Every time my fragile feelings got hurt or the world didn't treat me with the respect I deserved, I marched to my bedroom, whipped out my notebook, and wrote. And wrote... and wrote.

I'm not proud of the way I began journaling. But I'm thankful, oh-so-thankful, the Lord not only gave me the idea, but also patiently guided my writing. The blue notebook was followed by the green one, and then the red one... Likewise, immature rants gradually gave way to a more balanced perspective. I began documenting my aspirations and honest soul-searching; then my meditations on God's Word and written prayers.

My journals chronicle my spiritual journey, and I've kept all of them. They contain written expression of thoughts and ideas just between God and me. But sometimes I go through a period when the journal gathers dust and the pen lies still. I'm not sure what brings on dry spells, but I do know I am not the same when I'm not journaling regularly. It means I'm not internalizing that which the Lord is teaching me.

Well, I've had a dry spell recently, and I've needed a jumpstart. Enter a remarkable little book:

Yes, I admit it. All of this has been leading up to a book recommendation.

Me, Myself and I AM is a sleek little hard-back book that packs a punch. All it does is ask questions. But when those questions are probing questions about your relationship with the Lord, all you need is a little honesty and you're well on your way to some serious introspection. Warning: you may not like what you discover about yourself. I'm on page 48, and I've had a few surprises, veteran journaler that I am.

Not all the questions are life-changing, granted. But who doesn't like listing their favorite foods and cool Christmas presents?

Then you turn the page and have to confront this one: "Three things I do currently that I am not proud of." Or how about, "The word that best describes Jesus' place in my life is..."

Bottom line: this book, coupled with the all-important honesty-factor and a little time, is an effective way to get to know yourself and your relationship with Jesus for what it really is. Even after I make it though page 83, I've got plenty of fodder for journaling on my own again.

Me, Myself and I Am can be purchased here: http://www.christianbook.com/

Want a FREE copy for yourself? Leave me a comment. Any comment.

Upon coming face-to-face with one's insignificance in the Information Age

I just realized it has been over two months since my last post. Surprisingly, the internet seems to be humming along just fine without me. No desperate pleas from "Utah Journal" readers in withdrawal, no black holes in cyberspace that only a post from Karisa can fill. *sigh* The truth is, I've wanted to blog about several topics or events recently, but the absence of (1) a computer at home, (2) an internet connection, and (3) time have prevented me. Either that, or given this fair-weather writer excuses not to write. Let's stick with explanation number one. Anyhoo, this is simple proof that I'm still kicking. And yes, another post is in the works.

Onward and upward!