Archives For October 2008

Opening Prayer: Gracious Father, we thank you that You have made us your children and that you love it when we pray to you as our Father. We thank you that you have made us part of your family, and that you feed us and clothe us and care for us and all of our needs. Feed us now, our Father, visit us in our distress, for we pray in the name of the righteous Son, our Lord Jesus, and Amen!

Introduction
After visiting Strasbourg, Gerard Roussel, the chaplain of the queen of Navarre, reported in 1526 that the way the poor were cared for was one of the most impressive aspects of the Reformation. In the city of Nuremburg, alongside the reformation of the baptismal rite and the translation of the liturgy into German was a new city-wide plan for caring for all of the poor. Homes for the care of the elderly, widowed, and orphaned were run by the deacons of the churches in every protestant city. Calvin taught early on that the office of deacon was primarily an office called to care for the poor, and the Reformation in Geneva included the establishment of hospitals, schools for orphans, homes, and support for refugees. As we commemorate Reformation Day, it is good to remember what it is that we are celebrating. Often we emphasize the doctrinal legacy of the Reformation, but hand in hand with that came an aggressive ministry to the poor, the strangers, and orphans and widows in their midst. What’s really wonderful, is that over the last several years, God has been giving us some of these same opportunities, and the following is in many ways something of a “go, team, go!” This is an important part of what it means to be “Reformed.” But as we celebrate the Reformation, this is a good opportunity to think through this aspect of Reformational living. I want suggest that it was the reform of the Mass that was directly related to caring for the poor. At the center of reformation is worship, and this means gathering around the table of the Lord to feast upon His Word and Sacrament. One of the great blessings that God has bestowed on us is a community of Sabbath celebration and feasting which flows out of our worship, and when the people of God understand this gift, it breaks out in families and cities

The Text: “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy…” (Ex. 20:8-11)

Sabbath and Feasting are for the World
The Sabbath command begins with the word “remember.” The Sabbath and all feasts are memorials in time. And this act of remembrance was to include not only taking rest but also giving rest. As the command makes clear, the requirement to rest extended to family, visitors, and even to animals (Ex. 20:10). The Sabbath principle also applied to the land (Ex. 23:10-11, Lev. 25) and debts (Dt. 15:1-2). And the supreme expression of Sabbath was in the 50th year, the year of jubilee (Lev. 25:8-17) which began with the sounding of the trumpet on the Day of Atonement (Lev. 25:9-10). But the Sabbath was not merely a day off; it was one of the high feast days of the Old Covenant (Lev. 23:1-3). What is significant is that these feasts (like the Sabbath) were not merely for the enjoyment of those who threw them and their friends. The Feast of Weeks was for the fatherless, the widows, and the strangers (Dt. 16:10-12). The Feast of Tabernacles was for the fatherless, the strangers, and the widows (16:13-14). And this emphasis was to be a way of life for Israel because they had once been slaves in Egypt (Dt. 24:10-22). The offering of firstfruits and tithes was likewise for the world (Dt. 14:27-29, 26:11-15). The Jewish leaders who established Purim also clearly understood the Sabbath principle (Est. 9:18-22).

Let us Keep the Feast
It is no accident then that as the early church grew and multiplied, at the center of that covenant community was the doctrine of the apostles, fellowship, breaking of bread, and prayers (Acts 2:42). At the center of the early church was worship, the Sabbath Feast of the New Covenant. And because this Sabbath Feast was the Old Covenant feasts all grown up and glorious, it’s not surprising that there was almost immediately problems distributing the bread to the widows (Acts 6:1). When the gospel breaks out in a city, one of the greatest challenges should be figuring out how to care for all the orphans and widows. This challenge appears to be the origin of the deaconate, and immediately following the close of the canon, we find deacons assisting with the Lord’s Supper and taking the bread and other alms out to the poor of the church and community (e.g. Tertullian). This is the probable connection for why the deacons came to be primarily liturgical assistants in the middle ages rather than leaders of mercy ministry. But in the Reformation this was recovered by all the major reformers. Worship – and the Lord’s Supper in particular – was for the world. The gifts of bread and wine and milk and honey that were placed on the table during the offertory were alms for the poor. When we break the one loaf here, it is meant to be multiplied to feed thousands. As we “remember” here and celebrate the Sabbath feast here, we are immediately called upon to give Sabbath and to remember the strangers, orphans, and widows.

Conclusions & Applications
As we celebrate Reformation Day and All Saints Day, we do so as people who are thankful and grateful all the way down to the ground. This is because we understand the gospel, and when we do, we immediately see our mission. There is a rich legacy of mercy ministry that has been handed down to us in the Protestant Reformation. Hand in hand with the recovery of the gospel and faithful worship was the recovery of mercy ministry.

As we pursue this calling it must be remembered that part of this means not carelessly creating more strangers, fatherless, and widows (1 Tim. 5:8). There is no either/or dichotomy here. The command is still there to love your wife, love your children, and love your neighbor. But the promise is that there will be more oil (2 Kgs. 4). There will be more than enough bread to feed them all.

And we know this because there is still bread for us. Every week God invites strangers, fatherless, and widows to his feast. The Christian Church is the orphanage of God; he has not left us as orphans in the world but has given us His Spirit. We were once strangers, but we have been brought near; God has given us the Church as our Mother and himself as our Father. In this family there is more than enough to go around. As we celebrate Reformation Day, we celebrate the restoration of the gospel to the masses; we celebrate the bread of life for the world.

In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Closing Prayer: Our Father, you have bestowed on us great mercy, great grace, and you keep giving us good things in spite of ourselves, in spite of our ingratitude, in spite of our squandering. You keep inviting us to your feast, you keep inviting us into your rest, into your Sabbath. Teach us to truly rest in you, to rest such that our sons and daughters and spouses, and friends, and enemies are blessed. Through Jesus, the Lord of the Sabbath, who taught us to pray singing…

“Then you shall keep the Feast of Weeks to the LORD your God with the tribute of a freewill offering from your hand, which you shall give as the LORD your God blesses you. You shall rejoice before the LORD your God, you and your son and your daughter, your male servant and your female servant, the Levite who is within your gates, the stranger and the fatherless and the widow who are among you, at the place where the LORD your God chooses to make His name abide. And you shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt, and you shall be careful to observe these statutes.” (Dt. 16:11-13)

Today is Reformation Sunday. With Protestant Christians throughout the world, we give thanks to God for the 16th century Reformation. One of the central acts of the Reformation was the reform of the Mass, a restoration of the Lord’s Supper to the Lord’s people. What had become a superstitious and elitist cult-like activity was reformed according to Scripture, which centrally meant a recovery of this meal as a feast of thanksgiving for all of the people of God. We are gathered here as heirs of the Reformation to celebrate this High Feast of the New Covenant. This liturgy, this service of worship is a festival gathering every Lord’s Day. We gather here to read and sing the Scriptures, our epic poem of victory over sin and death and evil. We sing our songs of praise and celebration; we raise our hands and sit down together at the table of the Lord to rejoice together in the salvation of our God. This feast is the pinnacle of our Sabbath; here we sit down and eat, drink, and rejoice, resting in the provision of God. This festival, this feast is all of the Old Covenant feasts and Sabbaths all grown up and glorious. As I mentioned in the exhortation this morning, one of the central features of the Reformation was the renewal of a robust mercy ministry. Cities throughout the Reformation became famous for the care of strangers, orphans, and widows. The fact the cities who restored the table of the Lord to the people of the Lord became famous for caring for orphans and widows is not an accident. When this feast is restored to the people of God, and they understand what sort of grace this is, it breaks out into the world. Feasting here means feasting everywhere. And feasting means rejoicing before the Lord not only with our families but with the strangers, the fatherless, and the widows in our midst. This bread and wine of the New Covenant is not only for the remission of your sins, but for the remission of the sins of many. So come and rejoice before the Lord, you and your sons and your daughters, and rejoice in such a way that you preparing your heart to take this feast with you into the world. This is the grace of God for you; go and be grace for the world.

Bread for the World

October 28, 2008 — Leave a comment

At Pentecost, when the Spirit was poured out on the Church, and the gospel burst out into the world from Jerusalem, there was almost immediately a problem with figuring out how to take care of all the widows in Jerusalem. As the early Christians feasted at the Lord’s Table and from house to house, they understood that this feasting was for the strangers, the fatherless, and the widows in their midst. Throughout the Old Covenant, there was the repeated refrain that God’s people must care for the strangers, the fatherless, and the widows in their midst. And this calling was renewed in the New Testament: When the leaders of the early Church confirmed Paul’s ministry to the Gentiles, they gave him the right hand of fellowship and only insisted that he remember the poor, the very thing, Paul says that he was eager to do. Likewise, James famously insists that pure and undefiled religion is to visit orphans and widows in their distress. When the Reformation broke in Europe, it should come as no surprise to find that this gospel renewal almost immediately included a renewal in mercy ministry. Cities across the continent became famous for their care of immigrants, orphans, and widows. As we celebrate Reformation Day, the exhortation is to go and do likewise. First, care for the people in your midst such that there are no functional strangers, orphans, or widows. It will not do to talk about how important mercy ministry is and simultaneously neglect your own wife and children. In your zeal to care for the fatherless, the strangers, and widows do not create new ones. Remember what Paul says to Timothy, a man who does not provide for his own household is worse than an unbeliever. And he says that in the context of caring for widows. Secondly, do not believe the lie that says that after your own family there will not be anything left. This lie says that if we extend ourselves beyond our family and close circle of friends we will neglect our children, we will be too strapped financially. There just won’t be enough. This is really just a lack of faith. Jesus fed 5000 with a little boy’s sack lunch, and therefore you have nothing to fear. Yes, love your children, love your wife, love your husband, but there will be more for you. There was more oil for the widow and her son, and there will be enough bread for the world.

Rendered Harmless

October 27, 2008 — Leave a comment

In The Contemplative Pastor Eugene Peterson writes: “But if I, even for a moment, accept my culture’s definition of me, I am rendered harmless. I can denounce evil and stupidity all I wish and will be tolerated in my denunciations as a court jester is tolerated. I can organize their splendid goodwill and they will let me do it, since it is only for weekends.

The essence of being a pastor begs for redefinition. To that end, I offer three adjectives to clarify the noun: unbusy, subversive, apocalyptic.” (16)

Sitting on His Rock

October 27, 2008 — 1 Comment

I love the fact that when the angel comes and busts Jesus out of the tomb on Easter Sunday, he rolls the stone away from the door of the tomb and sits on it (Mt. 28:2).

He’s just sitting on the stone, all white, all bright like lightening, and the guards are shaking with fear and fainting.

I love that the angel is just sitting on that stone. I think he was probably smiling while he was sitting on that stone, smiling at those trembling guards. He knew it was the beginning of a new world, and he was the lucky angel, the one chosen by God from all eternity to roll the stone away and then to sit on it and watch the Roman guards squirm in their terror.

I wonder if the angel had been practicing his earthquake-stone-moving moves for some time or if he just did it on the fly.

And then the angel tells the women not to be afraid. He knows they came looking for Jesus who was crucified, but he’s not here, the angel explains. Again, I can’t help hearing a smile in those words. He’s not here. But, the angel wants them to see where the Lord lay. The angel is beaming with joy.

Go tell his disciples that He is risen from dead, and He is going before you into Galilee; there you will see Him.

And the angel adds one more line: See, I have told you. There he is sitting on that gigantic rock that formally hid the Prince of Life. There he is sitting, all beaming, all white, and he points out that he has told them.

See, I’ve told you. He is risen from the dead. And I’m just sitting here on my rock all bright and shiny. All things are new.

Beginning with Nothing

October 24, 2008 — Leave a comment

The story of Ruth opens with death. The beginning of Ruth is the story of a dying family, barren women, and famine. The land is dead. Wombs are dead. And the family is dying and falling apart. The story of Ruth opens in darkness, hopelessness, and emptiness. That is the beginning of the story of Ruth. Naomi returns to Bethlehem at the beginning of the story in this state, at the beginning of the barley harvest. In the beginning there was death. In the beginning there was famine. In the beginning there was emptiness. And of course all of this should remind us of the first beginning, the ‘in the beginning’ that precedes all ‘beginnings.’

In an important sense beginnings always come from brokenness. The first beginning, the beginning of the world there was nothingness, but once God began to speak worlds into existence, all other beginnings come from the reshaping and reforming of what has come previously. God divides light from darkness and begins the cycle of days and nights. God divides waters and creates the sky. God divides a rib from Adam and creates a woman. God divides the sea, and his people walk through on dry ground, a new people, a new nation. God says that sons must leave their father and mother and be joined to their wife and become one with her. The disintegration of the family line of Seth through sin and wickedness made way for Noah and the new world after the flood. The burdens of Pharaoh and his policies of population control made way for Moses and the new world after the Exodus. And even the chaos and instability of the period of the judges made way for the monarcy, the new world under the Kings. Beginnings after the first beginning mimic the original beginning. Just as there was darkness and formlessness and emptiness in the first beginning, there is now some degree of brokenness, darkness, death, and emptiness involved in every new beginning. There is a sort of nothingness that precedes the beginning of something new. And all of this is the glory of God because he delights to do the impossible. He delights to speak light into darkness, to speak worlds from nothings.

And this is true of baptism, and it is particularly evident in infant baptism. When we bring an infant to be baptized we bring a person who has only just begun to be formed. We bring a child who has only recently broken out of their mother’s womb which involves pain and bloodshed. The birth of a child is always a certain kind of death. But even more than that what we say about infant baptism is fairly amazing. We say that these children are about to be formally engrafted into the Lord Jesus. We confess one baptism for the remission of sins, and therefore this baptism is their baptism for the remission of sins. We believe the promise of Peter at Pentecost that the Holy Spirit hovers over these waters and promises to fill these new members of the body of Christ. And so it’s not surprising that Christians have often tried to tame the Scriptures, downplaying what baptism actually means and often simply limiting it to older children or adults who show more signs of being fully formed into Christians. But what this does is get the creation story backwards. These well intentioned brothers and sisters want to have a world first and then the words ‘let there be light.’ They want to see the Red Sea mostly divided and then they’ll permit Moses to declare to Israel, “Stand still! And see the salvation of the Lord, which he will perform for you today.” To insist upon adult baptism is to insist that we must see God perform his work before we will believe his words. But this is not faith.

And so when we bring an infant to be baptized, the objection is, look he/she is really cute and all, but we don’t know if he/she believes, we don’t know what they will become, there’s nothing there yet. She’s formless, she’s only just begun, there’s not enough there to work with, not enough to go on. And our faith-filled answer needs to be: exactly. You are exactly right. There is nothing here but too helpless infants. They cannot do anything for themselves. They cannot speak, their thoughts and actions and desires are still hardly formed. There is hardly anything here, and that is just how our God likes it. He comes to us in our brokenness. He comes to us in our emptiness. He comes to us in our death, in our helplessness, in our inability to do anything. And he says, “Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord.” While there was still darkness, God said, “Let there be light.” While there was still a Red Sea and charging chariots and horsemen, God said, “Watch this.” While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. And therefore, why would it be surprising in the slightest that God would take babies, infants into his arms and bless them and say, I have saved you. I have forgiven you. I have washed you clean. You are mine, and you will do great things in my kingdom. Of course that’s what God does because God delights to begin with nothing. He begins with death. He begins with helplessness. He begins with a widow and her barren daughter in-law in the midst of famine. He begins at the beginning of barley harvest, and he visits his people.

That’s all that matters. If God visits his people then we are saved. We are completely and unalterably dependent on him. If God is far off then we are to be pitied, and we have no reason for hope. But if God is near; if he visits his people, then we have every reason to believe, every reason to hope. We serve the God of beginnings. We serve the Lord Jesus who is the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega. He who begins good works in us completes them to the day of Christ Jesus.

Therefore, Aaron and Emily, Nate and Alexis, as you bring your children up, do so in this faith. And particularly as they face the challenges of life, the brokenness of sin and death, the trials and temptations of growing up in the Church, teach them to remember how God began with them. He declared their forgiveness ahead of time, he promised them the world at the beginning, he promised them life and glory even while they were tiny babies in their mothers’ arms. And teach them to believe that God delights to accomplish what he has spoken. Teach them that death and brokenness and emptiness is always the beginning of the story. Teach them to believe that life and resurrection always lie ahead. And live this out with one another. Amen!

Bread in Bethlehem

October 24, 2008 — Leave a comment

We noted this morning that Bethlehem literally means “house of bread.” In the story of Ruth, Naomi goes from a married woman with two sons to a childless widow. Like the land with no bread, Naomi has become a woman with no life. She has become barren like the land she inhabits. Naomi returns to Bethlehem because she hears that Yahweh has visited his people by giving them bread (1:6). Of course this is not the last time something significant happens in Bethlehem. Many centuries later, God would also visit his people. In Luke 1, Zacharias’ tongue is finally loosed and he is able to speak, he is filled with the Holy Spirit and sings, “Blessed is the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people.” In the story of Ruth, God sends bread to Bethlehem, and later a son is born to Ruth to give life to the family of Elimelech. In the story of Luke, God again visits his people Israel in the midst of their barrenness, and he gives them a son, the Son, and this Son is also the bread of life, the true manna which comes down from heaven. And the glory of the New Covenant is that God promises to visit us every week. Every Lord’s Day when we gather for worship, we gather in the midst of various forms of death and famine and barrenness. Whether it is literal famine, economic crisis, death and sickness of loved ones, or whether it is the barrenness of sin and evil that plagues us and our families, it is in the midst of that that God declares that he has visited you, and he gives you himself in the form of bread. Your faithful Father visits you with a Son; He visits you and gives you life in the midst of your death, in the midst of your famine, he feeds you. And if he is feeding you, then you must believe that he intends to raise you up, to give you life, to bless and renew you . So come and believe. Come and rejoice. The God who cared for Naomi cares for you. The God who gave bread to hungry, gives bread to you.

Opening Prayer: Gracious Father, we come now before you because we are hungry. We live in a land that is growing more and more barren. We live in a land of famine, and therefore we ask for you to feed us. You gave bread to your people in the wilderness, and you have given us Jesus who is the bread of life. Feed us now by your Word, through your Spirit, that might know you, love you, and follow you.

Introduction
Ruth opens with a pretty desperate scene of famine, barrenness, and death.

Days of the Judges
The book opens with chronological information placing the events of Ruth in the period of the Judges. The traditional date of the Exodus is around 1445 B.C., and if we tack on the forty years in the wilderness and the conquest of Canaan under Joshua, that puts us around 1350 B.C. Which makes the period of the judges run from that point until Saul is anointed King around 1050 B.C. It’s likely that the events of Ruth are taking place somewhere between 1150-1100ish. Remember too that this story is written in the time of David (Ruth 4:22).

We’ve Heard This Story Before
Bethlehem is near where Rachel, Jacob’s wife, was buried, on the way to Ephrath (Gen. 35:19). This is where the name Ephrathite comes from: Ephrath or Ephratha is apparently the old name for Bethlehem (cf. Gen. 48:7). One of the striking aspects of the beginning of Ruth are the multiple echoes of other stories that are evident from the start. “A certain man of Bethlehem, Judah…” is reminiscent of two very odd stories that have just concluded the book of Judges. The first has a man leaving Bethlehem (like Elimelech) (Jdgs. 17:7-8), and the other is related by its connection to Bethlehem. These stories seem to be commenting on the degeneration of Israel and the failure of the Levites in particular. Both have a very simple moral that includes the injunction not to leave Bethlehem. So that invites us to be a little suspicious of Elimelech at the first. At the same time, this is not the first time in Scripture we have seen a man moving his family to a new land due to famine. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob all did it (Gen. 12:10, 26:1, 42:5). But that was before the conquest. After the conquest, famine was not supposed to plague the land of Canaan unless they were unfaithful, a curse that would fall upon Israel if they were unfaithful to the covenant (Dt. 28:48, 32:24). And proof of the curse of God is the fact that instead of coming up out of the land blessed and prospering as Abraham, Isaac, (and Jacob), Elimelech and his sons die there (Ruth 1:3, 6). It’s reasonable to suggest that the state of the Levites in Bethlehem is directly related to the general state of the city. There is no food because the law of God has ceased to be their food, and the story of Eli and his sons is probably exemplary of this (1 Sam. 2:12-17). There are ironies woven through the text here: there is a famine in “Bethlehem”, the “house of bread.” Elimelech’s name means “my God is king” and yet he’s leaving the promised land of his God. Another allusion is bound up in Elimelech’s destination: Elimelech takes his family to the land of Moab. Moab was the son of the older daughter of Lot by incest (Gen. 19:37). Thus, interestingly, in a matter of verses we have two “daughters” in Moab again, and once again the problem is that there is no man for them (Ruth 1:11). This land was given to Lot, and therefore was not part of the promise land (Dt. 2:9), and Moab was not known for its friendliness (e.g. Num. 22-23, Judg. 3, 11). The story of Lot in Gen. 19 has a number of parallels to the story in Judges 19.

Curse, Death, and Famine
There is death in the land and in the family of Elimelech. There’s a famine of bread and men. Notice that after getting married, they dwelled in the land for 10 years before the two sons died. This means that there was barrenness in the family. Not only is Naomi “barren” through the death of her husband, her sons do not raise up any children, and then Naomi becomes barren through the death of her sons (1:11). This reminds us of Samuel’s mother, another barren woman, who lived in this same general era. All forms of barrenness are related. And this is part of understanding the exhaustive nature of the covenant. The covenant extends to all of life. God wants all of us, and this is ultimately so that he might bless all of it. There is no compartmentalizing of sin, and this also relates to the broader body of Christ. When one member suffers, we all suffer. Remember Achan, but also remember Jesus.
Naomi hears that Yahweh has “visited” his people. This word is not a throwaway. The first time this word shows up in the Old Testament is in Gen. 21:1 where God visits barren Sarah and blesses her with conception. The word is used several times during the story of Joseph to describe Joseph being placed in places of authority, being raised up from humiliation, being blessed. Later, when Joseph is dying, he tells his brothers that God will “visit” Israel and bring them up out of the land of Egypt (Gen. 50:24-25). And it is this same word that describes Yahweh’s activity toward Israel as he comes to deliver Israel out of bondage in Israel (Ex. 3:16, 4:31). Another use of this word is to count/list/enumerate (e.g. Num. 1-4).
Naomi urges her daughter in-laws to return to their mothers’ houses in order that Yahweh might give them “rest” in the house of a husband (1:9). This is the same word used to describe the camps of Israel on their way to the land of Canaan (Num. 10:33), and later the rest that Israel enjoy in the land (1 Kgs. 8:56 cf. Ps. 23:2, 95:11). When Solomon describes the rest, he particularly associates it with Yahweh keeping his “good promise” to Moses. In Psalm 132, it is particularly associated with God’s resting place in the Temple with the ark (Ps. 132:8, 14). Isaiah prophesies of Christ and says that his “resting place” shall be glorious (Is. 11:10). Ruth follows Naomi to find this resting place.

Conclusions & Applications
What are you running away from? All the appearances are that Elimelech was running away from challenges and difficulties he should have stayed to face. If it’s hard now, running is only going to make it worse.

Husbands are called to give their wives rest. They are called to create a Promised Land rest for their wives. Their homes must be places of Sabbath rest.

Finally, remember how God visits his people. He feeds them; he gives them life. He bestows mercy. In the midst of their failure, in the midst of their famine, in the midst of their barrenness, he visits them and gives them bread.

In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen!

Closing Prayer: Gracious Father, we thank you that you have visited us, that you have forgiven us and delivered us, and that you feed us and give us life. Give us strength to follow you. Through Jesus our Lord, who taught us to pray, singing…

God Likes Kids

October 24, 2008 — Leave a comment

God has blessed us and continues to bless us here at Trinity in many ways. In particular, we see God’s blessing to us in the many children in our midst. Many of you have several young children, and all the indicators are that this will only continue and increase. But this means that many of you have the challenge of teaching young children how to worship with us, how to join in with us on the Lord’s Day. And this really is a challenge, and I want to suggest several principles for thinking about how we cultivate our families. First, we need to remember our children’s frames. A six month old and a two year old and a five year old will all be at different places, and even among those broad categories it is simply a fact that God has made all of our children differently. There will be amazing two year olds that can sit still for an hour, and there will sometimes be older children that must still work at it. Remember their frame. But this doesn’t mean you just show up every Sunday and just “see what happens.” God does not require of us what he does not also at the same time give to us. When God calls us to obey him, he also always gives us the grace to obey him. This means that if you expect your children to behave in a certain way on Sunday you must give them that grace. You must be blessing them with that training throughout the week. Secondly, remember that God loves your children. Your children belong first of all to Him. He has claimed them in baptism, and he is not embarrassed by them. He is not embarrassed by their cries; He is not annoyed by their childishness and immaturity. He still welcomes them into his arms, snotty noses, crying, and fidgeting. He loves them. He has invited them. He delights in them. And therefore so should you. Of course if your child is being obnoxiously distracting, help them calm down, but we really don’t want to cultivate a community of stuffy pietism. Moms, you in particular need to remember not to worry about what people are thinking about your children. Your job is to love your kids. Love them, delight in them, rejoice over them, serve them, and care for them, but do it all without worry or fear that someone is silently judging your mothering skills. And of course Dads need to be all over this too. Particularly when the kids are very young, Mom is under great demand. Make sure she knows that you appreciate her, you love her, respect her, and admire how she gives and gives and gives. And remember in all of this that we are all the children of God. We may not be tempted to cry out or be distracting, but we are all no less tempted to be distracted. So I call all you to attention now, come and worship, the Lord invites you warmly, and despite your immaturity, despite your fidgeting, despite your wandering minds, he invites you and he says come and welcome.

Last Week

October 22, 2008 — Leave a comment

It’s been a little while, I know. Things have been hopping around here.

Just a couple of short notes: First, I just got back from last week’s CREC Council and Presbytery meetings in Houston, TX. It was a rip-roaring good time full of cigars, beer, laughter, more beer, good jokes, missionary reports, psalm singing, and of course we did a little business somewhere in there. God has been very kind to the CREC in its short history, and at the close of this year’s Council (this is our General Assembly that meets only every three years), we divided into seven presbyteries which also include a number of churches from Europe and Asia.

Another point of interest is that our presbytery and council “moderators” now go by the title “minister” or “presiding minister” which is meant to communicate a more pastoral and representative sort of role than merely running meetings (which “moderator” seems to suggest). Perhaps the closest historical precedent in Presbyterianism for this sort of role is the Scottish Presbyterian “Superintendents.” These were the sort of quasi-bishops that even John Knox was comfortable with, having pastoral roles in the regional church but which nevertheless still answered to presbytery and were not hierarchically “over” the other pastors. Anyhow, that was a move in a good direction by my estimation.

The week closed out with the Christ Church ministerial conference which was held in the same location as presbytery to allow for as many as presbyters as possible to attend. While all of the talks were quite good, the highlight was easily the opening lecture given by Pastor Tim Bayley.

Anyway, that’s all for now.