Monday, December 29, 2008

All things new...

A blank slate. I think that's why New Year's Day is so appealing. People like the idea of starting over. We want to begin again, without the mistakes of our past, and with the promise of an unspoiled future. That's not something the world offers up to readily. Still, once a year, we shake the Etch-a-Sketch of life and begin anew. Everything starts over again. We have a second chance to do things better; to be better than we were the last time around. We have a whole year full of empty spaces on the calendar that we promise to fill with anything but excuses and the mundane. Every January, the odometer turns over and we begin again with "January 1st."

I wish that there was snow in the forecast for the early morning hours of New Year's Day. There would be something poetic about waking up to a blanket of white. Snow hides everything. Even the quasi-depressing view from the windows of our condo looks pretty when there's freshly fallen snow. Snow covers the dirt, the asphalt, the uneven spots in the lawn and the trash that's been carelessly left. That stuff is still there, hidden underneath. But for a little while, it's all gone. The world looks brand-new; like a blank slate waiting to be written upon.

But the snow, like the new year, is just an illusion. The sense of newness we feel is mostly symbolic. We still have the same friends, the same jobs, the same car, the same church and the same problems. If we really thought about it, we'd soon remember that nothing really changes at the start of the new year. Even 2009, which will quickly have a new president, will still suffer from a sense of déjà vu. Our nation will still face the same problems it did in 2008. So, what makes the new year so special? As near as I can figure it, it might be just the date.

Still, I don't mean to be a pessimist. I actually do think there's more to starting over than just the date or the joy one gets from tearing the plastic off of the 2009 Simpsons calendar. I mean, there must be something that's driving this internal longing for things to be new once again.

The author of Ecclesiastes wrote, "What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which one can say, 'Look! This is something new'? It was here already, long ago; it was here before our time." (1:9-10; TNIV). In other words, life goes on and on as it did before. Nothing really changes. Though there sometimes appears to be something new on the horizon, it's just an illusion. Still, the author of Ecclesiastes understood this same longing we feel - this desire to start again and to be touched by something new.

I think this longing for a fresh start is the same as the desire for a new car. Let me explain.

First off, let me tell you what I don't mean. I'm not referring to that selfish desire that some people have to drive a brand-new luxury SUV every two years. This desire, after all, isn't really for a new car; it's for respect, love, and a sense of self-worth. And cars don't really provide those things.

No, I'm talking about the desire of a mother who's driving a fifteen-year-old, beat-up station wagon and who worries that, one of these days, it's just going to give up it's ghost on I-95 and leave her and her children stranded. She's poured hard-earned money into that vehicle. Her husband has put lots of WD-40, duct tape, elbow-grease and hours of Saturday mornings into that car. Still, they know that one of these days, it's just not going to run anymore. However, if they were able to buy a new car, the anxiety they feel would be gone.

Our lives are a lot like old cars. We try to fix them and make ourselves better. Some improvements work for a time and others don't. Some change the outward appearance, but leave the important things untouched. Still, we know that, no matter what we do, we're slowly running down - physically, mentally and spiritually. The only thing we can hope for is a new start.

And here's the thing. Our calendars are cyclical. Spring turns to summer, which turns to fall, which turns to winter, and then it's back to spring. Over and over again. This could give us the sense that there's never anything new. And I think the author of Ecclesiastes is right: left alone, there is nothing new under the sun. However, at the same time, the secret is this: all of history is headed toward a New Beginning. The Bible tells us that the end of all things is a glorious New Creation. "Behold, I am making all things new" (Revelation 21:5; ESV), declares Jesus at the end of the story.

This hope is set in our hearts, creating within us the desire for a new beginning. Maybe that's why we look forward to the start of a new calendar. We know there is nothing new under the sun; nothing new we can do on our own. Someone who is not bound under the sun must step in if there's to be any clean break. And that's what God promises. But He does so much more than that. If we were given a fresh start, we'd screw it up in a matter of seconds. We need real change and a new nature. And that is exactly what God promises.

I'm looking forward to the new year. There are things I'd like to see happen and plans I'm making. There are things I'd like to see change and things I'd like to leave behind in 2008. I'm praying 2009 is a good year. But mostly, I'm praying that I'll be reminded of the reality of a new beginning and that my life will reflect that new car smell.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

The definition of tolerance

A few months back, Rick Warren graciously hosted a forum at his church with Senators Barack Obama and John McCain. I thought he did a fine job and really showed that Christian leaders can get beyond arguments and name-calling, and that they can show civility toward people with whom they may not agree. Even though it was clear that, on the core issues, John McCain's positions were more in line with those of the Saddleback crowd, Rick Warren was warm and engaging with both senators.

Recently, Barack Obama asked Rick Warren to give the invocation at his inauguration, which will take place one month from today. I think such a choice shows that Obama is planning on making good on his promise to provide a seat at the table for people of all persuasions and perspectives. However, because of Rick Warren's support of California's proposition 8 (which banned gay marriage) during this past election season, and because of his unwavering pro-life position, many on the left are upset with Obama's choice.

Last night, Melinda and I watched the Dateline NBC interview with Rick Warren. I am always amused when Christian leaders are interviewed by the mainstream media. More often than not, they're treated with subtle disrespect and a condescending attitude. The reporter always finds a way to ask the pastor or teacher about the hot-button issues, like homosexuality, abortion, creationism and politics. Last night's interview was no different.

I chuckled a bit when the interviewer, Ann Curry, pulled out her notepad with Bible passages that she thought would unravel Warren's stance on gay marriage. "You said that God says in the Bible that a man and a woman should cling to each other for life, but it does not say that a marriage is only between a man and a woman. In fact the Bible says that King Solomon had 700 wives. Leviticus speaks of homosexuality as being a sin, but also orders the death penalty for eating fish that had fins and getting a tattoo," she announced.

Rick Warren calmly explained that the actions of folks like Solomon weren't always right. He also explained that there are civil, ceremonial and moral laws in the Old Testament, and that some of the prohibitions you might read about are not enforced today. I think it would have been funnier, though, if he would've opened his mouth in shock, and said, "Well, that changes everything. I've never heard that before. I guess you're right; there's nothing wrong with gay marriage. I'll call Billy Graham and the Pope after this interview and I'll let them know." All in all, Rick Warren did a good job explaining his position, despite the trial-like nature of the interview.

At one point, Warren said, "Tolerance used to mean, 'I treat you with respect even though we disagree.' Some people want tolerance to mean now that all ideas are equally valid. That's nonsense. There are some things that are right and there are some things that are wrong." I think that's a great point and the crux of the social debate taking place in America right now. Are we going to respect and love people that disagree with us or are we going to demonize them? Throwing the word "tolerance" around is just not going to cut it anymore.

The idea that Rick Warren should be forbidden from giving the invocation at President-elect Obama's inauguration simply because he disagrees with some of the positions that many Obama supporters hold is ludicrous. We keep hearing that it's wrong to judge someone by one characteristic or core position; gay people should be allowed to have the same rights and privileges as everyone else, even if society-at-large is not ready to accept that lifestyle. (By the way, no one is arguing that homosexuals should be denied their civil rights. Obama and Warren, and McCain for that matter, think that marriage should be between one man and one woman, but that all people should be given the same civil rights in our society.)

If we accept the argument that people should be loved and respected because they are human beings, and not because they are exactly like us, shouldn't folks like Rick Warren be granted the same respect? Should he be automatically blacklisted because he's a conservative Christian? Should we throw out everything good that he's done for the AIDS epidemic and for Africa and for the poor? Should we refuse to give him a seat at the table just because he disagrees with some people on a couple of hot-button issues? Should we silence him until he changes the name of his church from Saddleback to Brokeback?

Seeking power that would silence your opposition is not the way of Jesus. It may be the way that politics typically works, but we should always remember that our primary role is to be one of service. Jesus Himself was a servant and he said, "[W]hoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all" (Mark 10:43-44).

I am thankful that President-elect Obama seems to understand the real meaning of tolerance. He recently commented on the controversy surrounding Rick Warren, stating, "It is important for America to come together even though we may have disagreements on certain social issues." Rick Warren, in a separate statement, added, "I commend President-elect obama for his courage to willingly take enormous heat from his base by inviting someone like me, with whom he doesn't agree on every issue."



Source:

Anne Curry, Dateline NBC, "Rick Warren: Pastor in the political spotlight," December 19, 2008. Transcript available online here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28298093/

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

The importance of being Linus

If you've ever seen A Charlie Brown Christmas, you know that it's about the title character's struggle with the production and commercialization of Christmas. Charlie Brown tries and tries to fit in with the season. He volunteers to direct the school play and then to go and find the perfect Christmas tree. He knows something is great about Christmas and he's trying to get in on it, but he just doesn't get it and disappointment lurks around the corner with every decision he makes.

In the end, Linus Van Pelt fills Charlie Brown in on what he's missing. He recites the angelic announcement of Christ's birth from the second chapter of Luke's Gospel.



The original hearers of that message, the shepherds of Bethlehem, would have been considered losers by just about anyone's standard. They were dirty and smelly from spending all of their time outside with their sheep. And shepherds, in that day, had the reputation of being vandals and thieves. These were not exactly the type of folks that would normally receive an invitation to a royal birth. But that's just what happened.

Charlie Brown is a lot like that. He didn't fit in with the other kids. He was always picked last for the team. He came home from trick-or-treating with a big bag of rocks. His own dog was more popular with girls. And he never kicked Lucy's football, no matter how hard he tried.

I like to say (though I'm not the first) that Linus was the greatest theologian of the twentieth century. He knew what Christmas was all about. And in the grand scheme of things, is there anything more important? All of history anticipates, looks back upon and makes little sense apart from the coming of Christ. What Christmas is about is what life is about.

I know... I know... that's a large, bold statement. I stand by it, though. Think about it. Every decision and significant event in a person's life is radically different if it's viewed through the lens of the Gospel. And, of course, the Gospel would be nothing if Jesus had never come.

Once again, consider Charlie Brown. After Linus' monologue, he still had to direct a Christmas play that was getting out of hand, he was still stuck with the dying Christmas tree he'd picked out, and he still lacked the acceptance from his peers that he so desired. And, he still never kicked that football away from Lucy. But, with a right understanding of God's love for him, Charlie Brown understood what was really important. Regardless of the external circumstances, he got Christmas and he got life.

So, my question is this: What do we do with Charlie Brown? What do we do with those people who don't know what Christmas or life is all about? What do we do with those people who disagree with us on the important issues? Do we write them off and seal ourselves away from them? Do we attack them? Or do we become a Linus in their lives?

It doesn't always come with a stage, a spotlight and a recitation of Luke, but we can show people that there is an answer to the question, "Isn't there anyone who knows what life is all about?" We can answer that question for friends and for strangers if we look for opportunities. It's done through actions and sometimes through words. It's done with love, understanding and humility, and never with manipulation, pressure or arrogance. And it's a beautiful thing.

I recently read that in the late 1980s, Charles Schultz, the creator of Peanuts, told a reporter that he'd stopped going to church and that he considered himself a "secular humanist." He went on to live for another decade or so after that interview and I don't know what his relationship with God was like before he died, but it kind of makes me sad that the man, who was, for all intents and purposes, the "real" Charlie Brown, didn't have a Linus to remind him what Christmas was all about.


Sources:

A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965).

David Templeton, "My Lunch with Sparky," reproduced from the December 30, 1999-January 5, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent. Available online here: htp://www.webcitation.org/5cfZdHu1o.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

The truth of the Christmas story and the lies of Randy Travis

This past Saturday, Melinda and I drove up to New Milford to see Behold the Lamb of God, Andrew Peterson's annual Christmas tour. We caught the show once before when we lived in Charlotte and were so glad to hear it was coming up to Connecticut.

If you've never heard the album Behold the Lamb of God, you need to pick up a copy. It's so unlike any other Christmas record. And it's actually about Christ. There's no Santa Clause or snow or chestnuts or reindeer or anything like that. Instead, AP starts in the Old Testament and tells the story the story of Jesus' coming from Israel's perspective. The record and the show do a great job of showing the unifying story of Scripture.

Just before the intermission, AP made a passing comment about how he hopes his art will last. He's not interested in making something that will be popular for a month and then forgotten. And he wants to write and sing about truths that don't change. Obviously, the truth of Christ doesn't change, so it's pretty safe to write and perform a Christmas show. His latest project is about the resurrection, so again, it's pretty safe since he's shooting for timeless.

And that reminded me of King of the Hill. Let me explain. There's an old episode where the Hills head to Nashville for Fan Fair, that week-long festival of country music concerts and events. In the episode, Peggy Hill is convinced that Randy Travis has plagiarized one of her songs. In real life, Randy Travis seems like such an honest, down-to-earth guy, so it's hard to think of him as someone who would steal another's song. The episode is funny because it turns out Randy Travis is kind of a praise-hogging jerk.

But what does that have to do with Andrew Peterson? Last year, Melinda and I were watching Larry King Live's Christmas show. Mr. King had invited musicians to come talk about their Christmas albums and play songs. Randy Travis was one of his guests, and played the song, "Labor of Love" from Andrew Peterson's Behold the Lamb of God. In the show and on the original CD, the song is beautifully performed by Jill Phillips. It's definitely one of the more memorable songs from BtLoG, and Randy decided to record it for his Christmas CD. That's all well and good, and I'm glad that Andrew Peterson received a royalty check for the song, but here's the thing: Larry King asked Randy about the song and Randy simply called it "an original," implying that he wrote it himself! He had the perfect opportunity to draw attention to Andrew Peterson's music, but did not.

Peggy Hill, the world might not believe your story, but I do; I've seen Randy Travis' true colors.