Our daughter is over four months old now so I'd like to look back on the last little while.
She was born in the morning, and since we used a midwife rather than a doctor, and everyone was thankfully healthy, we went home in the afternoon. My parents and my brother came to see her. (My sister was away on vacation so she couldn't meet her that day.) At night she cried for hours, so Cathy and I switched off holding her. Around 3 or 4 in the morning she went to sleep and must have slept for 5 hours. And so began parenthood.
As anyone who's been through this will tell you, the first few months are tough, especially the first few weeks. Fortunately the baby slept better most nights than the first night--no 5 hour stretches of sleep for a while, but no 5 hour stretches of crying either. And at first she slept better in the day than at night.
If parenting would always be like the first couple of months, I wouldn't want to be a parent. I was sure it would get better, so I didn't regret having the baby, but wasn't loving fatherhood either. Hearing Cathy's frustration was tough too. Sometimes she'd even say she wants to put the baby up for adoption. She sounded serious, but sometimes it's hard to tell how serious she is when she's frustrated. The baby seemed to fit the definition of colic too, so that didn't help.
And then sometimes I'd imagine the future. I imagine taking her camping, seeing her fascination with seeing certain animals for the first time, and teaching her some camping skills. I imagine her curiosity about the world around her. I imagine her affection for us. Then it really feels like parenting will be worth it. I know parenting isn't supposed to be a selfish thing, but I want to experience joy in the sacrifices that it takes to raise a child, and I'm sure I will.
Things have improved a lot. After 6 or 7 weeks, her crying reduced to the point where it wouldn't count as colic. She's healthy, she smiles at us, and she plays with toys (mostly putting them in her mouth or dropping them). We're both embracing parenthood more, and finding more joy in it. I've seen Cathy's confidence grow so much. It is a joy to play with her and see her mature. I'm looking forward to seeing what she's like when she's older.
We're very grateful for all the support we've received, especially from both of our parents, and even more especially, from Cathy's mom who stayed with us for four weeks.
Thursday, December 05, 2013
Monday, September 16, 2013
Church search: Liturgy and Anglican churches
Part of my "Church search" series...
Since I've been most interested in visiting churches that are not evangelical, most of the churches I've visited have been on the more liturgical side, some of them Anglican. Cathy has visited some of these with me. Also, we've visited one United church (I don't think that's considered liturgical) and a couple of Lutheran churches. I'll cover the United and Lutheran churches separate posts.
I find that when I go to an Anglican church when I haven't been to one in a while, I find many parts of the liturgy quite meaningful. There are some beautiful things said about God's love and grace. Also, through some things I've heard and read, I've come to appreciate taking communion more, and communion happens more often in liturgical churches.
And then after a few services, things start to seem more repetitive. Granted, non-liturgical churches can be almost as repetitive in different ways, and in both cases, we are saying or singing words that some other writer came up with, so in either case we aren't just saying personal things. The difference with liturgy isn't just about how repetitive it is; it has to do with a different understanding of what's happening during worship. One place to read about this is this article called "Liturgy Is Not a 'Style'." Getting back to communion, these churches teach that God really does something with us through communion, that in some mysterious, not-fully-understood way, our souls are nourished by the body and blood of Jesus even as our bodies are nourished by the bread and wine. I don't know if I believe that, but I find it believable, and it has deepened my appreciation of communion.
I find that churches with less conservative beliefs tend to understand and appreciate doubt better than more conservative churches. As someone who has wrestled with doubts about God for years, I can appreciate this. But it's important to rise above these doubts, not to explain them away or suppress them, but to find ways of experience God and appreciate Christianity even in the midst of doubt. I find that appreciation of mystery is one way to rise above doubt without simply suppressing it, and that's one reason I appreciate a liturgical understanding of communion. (I'll talk more about rising above doubt when I write about the United Church.)
One time in particular that I visited a certain Anglican church for the first time, I really felt a strong sense of both reverence and grace, through the words that were said and sung, through looking at the stained-glass windows. The songs were familiar enough too, and that helped. Other times that I've been there, it hasn't always felt that way. The time that I went there with Cathy, the sermon was done by one of the lay leaders in the church, and it was painful to listen to. She wasn't a good speaker (maybe needs more practice), and the subject was about giving money to the church.
I also find that I want to learn more from church history. The historic churches seem to have many good insights and helpful practices that often get lost in evangelical churches' desire to follow the Bible alone. On the other hand, the historic churches have done a lot of awful things over the centuries, but it would be good to learn from those mistakes. I appreciate how the Anglican church tries to embrace the best of both Catholicism and Protestantism, and has a more open attitude toward other Christians than some other churches have (for example, they welcome all baptized Christians to take communion, unlike some churches).
In general, I haven't been able to connect well with people at the Anglican churches I've visited. There generally aren't many people around my age, but there are a few, and some that are younger too. I've had good conversations with a couple of priests, but haven't really got to know others.
So my Anglican experiences have been meaningful, sometimes repetitive, and haven't provided much experience of community. I'm not sure if this tradition is the way I want to practice my faith long-term, but it's definitely one that I want to continue learning from.
Since I've been most interested in visiting churches that are not evangelical, most of the churches I've visited have been on the more liturgical side, some of them Anglican. Cathy has visited some of these with me. Also, we've visited one United church (I don't think that's considered liturgical) and a couple of Lutheran churches. I'll cover the United and Lutheran churches separate posts.
I find that when I go to an Anglican church when I haven't been to one in a while, I find many parts of the liturgy quite meaningful. There are some beautiful things said about God's love and grace. Also, through some things I've heard and read, I've come to appreciate taking communion more, and communion happens more often in liturgical churches.
And then after a few services, things start to seem more repetitive. Granted, non-liturgical churches can be almost as repetitive in different ways, and in both cases, we are saying or singing words that some other writer came up with, so in either case we aren't just saying personal things. The difference with liturgy isn't just about how repetitive it is; it has to do with a different understanding of what's happening during worship. One place to read about this is this article called "Liturgy Is Not a 'Style'." Getting back to communion, these churches teach that God really does something with us through communion, that in some mysterious, not-fully-understood way, our souls are nourished by the body and blood of Jesus even as our bodies are nourished by the bread and wine. I don't know if I believe that, but I find it believable, and it has deepened my appreciation of communion.
I find that churches with less conservative beliefs tend to understand and appreciate doubt better than more conservative churches. As someone who has wrestled with doubts about God for years, I can appreciate this. But it's important to rise above these doubts, not to explain them away or suppress them, but to find ways of experience God and appreciate Christianity even in the midst of doubt. I find that appreciation of mystery is one way to rise above doubt without simply suppressing it, and that's one reason I appreciate a liturgical understanding of communion. (I'll talk more about rising above doubt when I write about the United Church.)
One time in particular that I visited a certain Anglican church for the first time, I really felt a strong sense of both reverence and grace, through the words that were said and sung, through looking at the stained-glass windows. The songs were familiar enough too, and that helped. Other times that I've been there, it hasn't always felt that way. The time that I went there with Cathy, the sermon was done by one of the lay leaders in the church, and it was painful to listen to. She wasn't a good speaker (maybe needs more practice), and the subject was about giving money to the church.
I also find that I want to learn more from church history. The historic churches seem to have many good insights and helpful practices that often get lost in evangelical churches' desire to follow the Bible alone. On the other hand, the historic churches have done a lot of awful things over the centuries, but it would be good to learn from those mistakes. I appreciate how the Anglican church tries to embrace the best of both Catholicism and Protestantism, and has a more open attitude toward other Christians than some other churches have (for example, they welcome all baptized Christians to take communion, unlike some churches).
In general, I haven't been able to connect well with people at the Anglican churches I've visited. There generally aren't many people around my age, but there are a few, and some that are younger too. I've had good conversations with a couple of priests, but haven't really got to know others.
So my Anglican experiences have been meaningful, sometimes repetitive, and haven't provided much experience of community. I'm not sure if this tradition is the way I want to practice my faith long-term, but it's definitely one that I want to continue learning from.
Monday, July 22, 2013
The princess
I have some news! Last Tuesday our baby girl was born, at 9:10 in the morning. (Did you think this would be about the new prince or princess of Britain based on the title? Ha ha, fooled you.) She weighed 9 lbs, 1 oz, which was surprising because Cathy wasn't any bigger than most pregnant women, probably even a bit smaller than most. (A few weeks before birth, I heard a few other women say how jealous they were of her.)
Everybody's healthy, just sore and tired. Cathy's mom is staying with us for a while, and she's a big help. And so the adventure of parenting begins...
Everybody's healthy, just sore and tired. Cathy's mom is staying with us for a while, and she's a big help. And so the adventure of parenting begins...
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Church search: Building frustration
Part of my "Church search" series...
It's been about a year since we decided to leave the church we were in. Soon I told my parents, who attend the same church. They were disappointed but supportive of us finding something that works better for us. Soon after that, they were at a meeting talking about some of the church's future plans. They gave me a sheet of paper they got at that meeting, not intending to pressure us to stay, but to just make us aware of potential changes just in case it would make us want to stay.
The paper had an outline that the pastor wrote up about where he saw things going with the church in the next few years. This ministry plan included stuff like starting small group Bible studies in various parts of the city, which is something that I would've appreciated. This was also part of efforts to reach out to other people. It also covered a bunch of other ideas. Something about this whole thing frustrated me. As I've said before in this series, my enthusiasm for reaching out to people through the church is near zero. Simply reading a "ministry plan" frustrated me, however good its intentions were. Maybe I'm better off attending church services but paying absolutely no attention to the church's other programs and plans.
I read that plan on a Sunday morning when we didn't go to any church. That morning, I went out for a jog to a nearby park in the river valley. Maybe I had been planning to go running before I started feeling frustrated, but running turned out to be a good way to vent the frustration. I ended up exploring off the beaten path a bit, ending up at a little ravine where the trail basically ends, or at least gets very narrow. I turned around and continued running, arriving home feeling like that was what I needed.
Why would something like that frustrate me this much?
In future posts, I'll start talking about churches we've visited.
It's been about a year since we decided to leave the church we were in. Soon I told my parents, who attend the same church. They were disappointed but supportive of us finding something that works better for us. Soon after that, they were at a meeting talking about some of the church's future plans. They gave me a sheet of paper they got at that meeting, not intending to pressure us to stay, but to just make us aware of potential changes just in case it would make us want to stay.
The paper had an outline that the pastor wrote up about where he saw things going with the church in the next few years. This ministry plan included stuff like starting small group Bible studies in various parts of the city, which is something that I would've appreciated. This was also part of efforts to reach out to other people. It also covered a bunch of other ideas. Something about this whole thing frustrated me. As I've said before in this series, my enthusiasm for reaching out to people through the church is near zero. Simply reading a "ministry plan" frustrated me, however good its intentions were. Maybe I'm better off attending church services but paying absolutely no attention to the church's other programs and plans.
I read that plan on a Sunday morning when we didn't go to any church. That morning, I went out for a jog to a nearby park in the river valley. Maybe I had been planning to go running before I started feeling frustrated, but running turned out to be a good way to vent the frustration. I ended up exploring off the beaten path a bit, ending up at a little ravine where the trail basically ends, or at least gets very narrow. I turned around and continued running, arriving home feeling like that was what I needed.
Why would something like that frustrate me this much?
In future posts, I'll start talking about churches we've visited.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Work is...
Let the person who has insight calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man. That number is 666.
--Revelation 13:18
But the beast was captured, and with it the false prophet who had performed the signs on its behalf. With these signs he had deluded those who had received the mark of the beast and worshiped its image. The two of them were thrown alive into the fiery lake of burning sulfur.
--Revelation 19:20 (NIV)
At the industrial site where I work, there is a sulfuric acid plant. The first step of sulfuric acid production is to burn sulfur. That sounds pretty horrible, but the vast majority of the product of combustion is converted to sulfuric acid; only a little bit is emitted into the air.
When I've read Revelation in the Bible since I started working at this plant, the parts about the lake of burning sulfur always remind me of work. While we don't have a lake of burning sulfur there, we do have a pit of molten sulfur, and the sulfur gets pumped out of the pit to a furnace where it is burned.
Now I'm involved in a project involving a bunch of the plant's motors. This includes connecting them to a modern computerized control system instead of buttons on the control room panel. Every set of on / off switches on this control system needs a tag number, and one of these motors got the tag number HS-666. This motor runs a pump. This pump moves molten sulfur from the sulfur pit to the burner.
Conclusion: work is hell.
--Revelation 13:18
But the beast was captured, and with it the false prophet who had performed the signs on its behalf. With these signs he had deluded those who had received the mark of the beast and worshiped its image. The two of them were thrown alive into the fiery lake of burning sulfur.
--Revelation 19:20 (NIV)
At the industrial site where I work, there is a sulfuric acid plant. The first step of sulfuric acid production is to burn sulfur. That sounds pretty horrible, but the vast majority of the product of combustion is converted to sulfuric acid; only a little bit is emitted into the air.
When I've read Revelation in the Bible since I started working at this plant, the parts about the lake of burning sulfur always remind me of work. While we don't have a lake of burning sulfur there, we do have a pit of molten sulfur, and the sulfur gets pumped out of the pit to a furnace where it is burned.
Now I'm involved in a project involving a bunch of the plant's motors. This includes connecting them to a modern computerized control system instead of buttons on the control room panel. Every set of on / off switches on this control system needs a tag number, and one of these motors got the tag number HS-666. This motor runs a pump. This pump moves molten sulfur from the sulfur pit to the burner.
Conclusion: work is hell.
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Church search: Straddling the wall
Part of my "Church search" series...
Not too long ago, I happened upon this chart about some common stages of faith and found that I could really relate to it, especially the wall-hitting part. (If you'd like to save time, just read the two gray boxes on that page, but I recommend reading the whole thing.
I'm quite solidly in stage 4 (the journey inward) of that chart, sometimes feeling pulled back to stage 3 (the productive life). Truth be told, I've been trying to straddle that wall between stages 3 and 4 for several years now, but didn't mostly let go of stage 3 until we decided to leave our church last year.
A number of years ago I found myself dealing with increased doubts about Christianity. As I decided to start dealing with doubt rather than just letting it fester, I began to learn about some different ways of thinking within Christianity. The book "The Last Word and the Word After That" by Brian McLaren was influential in this regard. When Christians talked kind of favorably about doubt, it sounded something like, "It's good to confront your doubts because it will ultimately boost your confidence that we're right." But Brian McLaren was willing to consider that maybe we really are wrong about some things in our faith, or even if these things we doubt turn out to be true, there is still something to our doubts. Or the truth / falsity of these doctrines isn't the most important thing.
As I learned from people who are willing to ask the tough questions (mostly through reading), my faith was challenged and refreshed, and I learned to deal with doubt better. But doubt didn't go away, and other things I learned made me feel cynical.
Meanwhile, this whole time I was one of the leaders of the youth group at my church. I wasn't frequently in much of a teaching role, but when I did have opportunities to teach or discuss, I did try to encourage questioning and keeping an open mind, avoiding pat answers, that sort of thing. But I still felt myself suppressing some of my questions and issues, and I found that these issues sometimes made me reluctant to discuss certain aspects of faith with these young people. When I did express these questions and issues, people were generally accepting and sometimes tried to understand, but they rarely challenged my thinking the way that the things I read did, and it rarely felt like they really understood. Actually, the pastor was one of the people who understood me best, but even then, I felt more and more like I needed more space to decide for myself what I believed.
I quit youth group leadership. Even though it had been great in many ways, this was part of getting more space. After a little while longer, I considered quitting church entirely, with the hope of eventually coming back. Instead I decided to just cut back on church attendance.
Cathy and I started dating, and she accepted and appreciated me for where I was at. She began attending the same church as me, when she was able to make it. We got married. Church attendance varied. We got a new pastor, and like the previous one, this one understood me better than most people in the church. Around that time, I initiated a Bible study group mostly for people around my age. Again, I tried to express my questions and issues, and sometimes found that certain people were also wrestling with something similar. When it was my turn to lead the discussion, sometimes I felt like I should be toning down the expression of my doubts. Eventually this group dissolved.
I've often felt like I need to experience a different way of thinking about Christianity on a deeper level. Some of my reading has made me aware that it really is possible, but in the evangelical church (mostly in the church I grew up in) I haven't been able to find people who really get me thinking in those different ways.
Plenty of good things had happened in our old church, including things that wouldn't have happened if we left earlier. But I was stuck, straddling that wall between the "productive Christian life" and searching for something better. And so, last year, it was finally time to go.
Not too long ago, I happened upon this chart about some common stages of faith and found that I could really relate to it, especially the wall-hitting part. (If you'd like to save time, just read the two gray boxes on that page, but I recommend reading the whole thing.
I'm quite solidly in stage 4 (the journey inward) of that chart, sometimes feeling pulled back to stage 3 (the productive life). Truth be told, I've been trying to straddle that wall between stages 3 and 4 for several years now, but didn't mostly let go of stage 3 until we decided to leave our church last year.
A number of years ago I found myself dealing with increased doubts about Christianity. As I decided to start dealing with doubt rather than just letting it fester, I began to learn about some different ways of thinking within Christianity. The book "The Last Word and the Word After That" by Brian McLaren was influential in this regard. When Christians talked kind of favorably about doubt, it sounded something like, "It's good to confront your doubts because it will ultimately boost your confidence that we're right." But Brian McLaren was willing to consider that maybe we really are wrong about some things in our faith, or even if these things we doubt turn out to be true, there is still something to our doubts. Or the truth / falsity of these doctrines isn't the most important thing.
As I learned from people who are willing to ask the tough questions (mostly through reading), my faith was challenged and refreshed, and I learned to deal with doubt better. But doubt didn't go away, and other things I learned made me feel cynical.
Meanwhile, this whole time I was one of the leaders of the youth group at my church. I wasn't frequently in much of a teaching role, but when I did have opportunities to teach or discuss, I did try to encourage questioning and keeping an open mind, avoiding pat answers, that sort of thing. But I still felt myself suppressing some of my questions and issues, and I found that these issues sometimes made me reluctant to discuss certain aspects of faith with these young people. When I did express these questions and issues, people were generally accepting and sometimes tried to understand, but they rarely challenged my thinking the way that the things I read did, and it rarely felt like they really understood. Actually, the pastor was one of the people who understood me best, but even then, I felt more and more like I needed more space to decide for myself what I believed.
I quit youth group leadership. Even though it had been great in many ways, this was part of getting more space. After a little while longer, I considered quitting church entirely, with the hope of eventually coming back. Instead I decided to just cut back on church attendance.
Cathy and I started dating, and she accepted and appreciated me for where I was at. She began attending the same church as me, when she was able to make it. We got married. Church attendance varied. We got a new pastor, and like the previous one, this one understood me better than most people in the church. Around that time, I initiated a Bible study group mostly for people around my age. Again, I tried to express my questions and issues, and sometimes found that certain people were also wrestling with something similar. When it was my turn to lead the discussion, sometimes I felt like I should be toning down the expression of my doubts. Eventually this group dissolved.
I've often felt like I need to experience a different way of thinking about Christianity on a deeper level. Some of my reading has made me aware that it really is possible, but in the evangelical church (mostly in the church I grew up in) I haven't been able to find people who really get me thinking in those different ways.
Plenty of good things had happened in our old church, including things that wouldn't have happened if we left earlier. But I was stuck, straddling that wall between the "productive Christian life" and searching for something better. And so, last year, it was finally time to go.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Leaving church
I'd like to start a series of posts here about something Cathy and I are in the process of. Around the middle of 2012, we decided to stop attending the church that I grew up in and to find something different. We each had different reasons for this, but we agreed that it needed to be done. My reasons for this change are complex and add difficulty to a search for a new church, so I think this experience should provide fodder for a whole series of blog posts.
Cathy has never connected all that well with people at that church. She's found people friendly but hasn't formed any strong friendships or had deeper conversations with people there. When I was younger, I had good friends there, some of my best friends. For a variety of reasons, we've drifted apart. As most of them had kids, they reached a significantly different stage of life from me (one that I'll be entering soon, but I digress). This factor combined with geography--everyone seems to live in a different part of the city, not the same part as me anyway--and not very persistent effort on all of our parts led to weakening friendships. These are among the reasons why Cathy never connected well either.
But in this series I'll focus more on my reasons for leaving and my thoughts and experiences with a search for someplace new. If Cathy decides to write about her experience, I'll post that too if she wants.
My views have been drifting away from typical evangelical Christianity over time. I believe evolution, I don't believe in the infallibility of the Bible, I experience doubts about pretty much every aspect of Christianity, stuff like that. In my former church, those views didn't get me in trouble, but I rarely felt like people understood me either.
This isn't just about changes in my beliefs and opinions though. It's about the way evangelical churches do things, and some deep-seated feelings that I can't entirely explain and justify, but can't let go of either. Something about his just doesn't feel right.
The pastor has an idea: we need to change _______ so the church can reach out to the community better. He encourages people to read books or go to seminars and conferences, changes are made in how the church does things. Maybe the church grows a bit. Maybe the church shrinks a bit. Long term, not much changes. Then the pastor has an idea: we need to change ______ so the church can reach out to the community better...
After a while, we get a new pastor. A similar cycle repeats itself. Maybe the pastor claims it's not so much about growing the church, but simply about serving others. But it feels the same to me. Sometimes good changes happen, and occasionally those changes have a lasting effect. But much of the time, this whole way of doing church feels dead.
Meanwhile, I've been drifting. As I said earlier, my views have been changing and I don't feel understood. I read stuff saying this "church growth" focus takes people's eyes off the Gospel of Jesus Christ and makes people cogs in a machine, and that resonates with me. A blogger or two suggest churches shouldn't even have "vision statements" or much for goals because those interfere with community, and that resonates with me.
My enthusiasm for community outreach through the church is near zero. The church still wants me to reach out to others. But why would I want to bring others to something that leaves me feeling this way? It's not that they've mistreated me. The people there actually mean a lot to me, and some have been part of my life for all of my life. I have a good relationship with the pastor. This church and this pastor are probably a better fit for me than most evangelical churches and pastors are. And yet so much to do with church programs makes me feel so cynical or just weary. Feeling this way has made it clear to me that something about my relationship with God and his church needs to change.
Jesus inspires me. When church is about Jesus, that can inspire me too. When it's about programs for reaching out, I get weary of hearing about it.
I'll unpack some of these thoughts in later posts and talk about things that have happened more recently. If you found this through my Facebook profile and you'd like to keep following it, you'll have to check back here or subscribe to an RSS feed, because I don't plan to post links to any more posts on Facebook.
Cathy has never connected all that well with people at that church. She's found people friendly but hasn't formed any strong friendships or had deeper conversations with people there. When I was younger, I had good friends there, some of my best friends. For a variety of reasons, we've drifted apart. As most of them had kids, they reached a significantly different stage of life from me (one that I'll be entering soon, but I digress). This factor combined with geography--everyone seems to live in a different part of the city, not the same part as me anyway--and not very persistent effort on all of our parts led to weakening friendships. These are among the reasons why Cathy never connected well either.
But in this series I'll focus more on my reasons for leaving and my thoughts and experiences with a search for someplace new. If Cathy decides to write about her experience, I'll post that too if she wants.
My views have been drifting away from typical evangelical Christianity over time. I believe evolution, I don't believe in the infallibility of the Bible, I experience doubts about pretty much every aspect of Christianity, stuff like that. In my former church, those views didn't get me in trouble, but I rarely felt like people understood me either.
This isn't just about changes in my beliefs and opinions though. It's about the way evangelical churches do things, and some deep-seated feelings that I can't entirely explain and justify, but can't let go of either. Something about his just doesn't feel right.
The pastor has an idea: we need to change _______ so the church can reach out to the community better. He encourages people to read books or go to seminars and conferences, changes are made in how the church does things. Maybe the church grows a bit. Maybe the church shrinks a bit. Long term, not much changes. Then the pastor has an idea: we need to change ______ so the church can reach out to the community better...
After a while, we get a new pastor. A similar cycle repeats itself. Maybe the pastor claims it's not so much about growing the church, but simply about serving others. But it feels the same to me. Sometimes good changes happen, and occasionally those changes have a lasting effect. But much of the time, this whole way of doing church feels dead.
Meanwhile, I've been drifting. As I said earlier, my views have been changing and I don't feel understood. I read stuff saying this "church growth" focus takes people's eyes off the Gospel of Jesus Christ and makes people cogs in a machine, and that resonates with me. A blogger or two suggest churches shouldn't even have "vision statements" or much for goals because those interfere with community, and that resonates with me.
My enthusiasm for community outreach through the church is near zero. The church still wants me to reach out to others. But why would I want to bring others to something that leaves me feeling this way? It's not that they've mistreated me. The people there actually mean a lot to me, and some have been part of my life for all of my life. I have a good relationship with the pastor. This church and this pastor are probably a better fit for me than most evangelical churches and pastors are. And yet so much to do with church programs makes me feel so cynical or just weary. Feeling this way has made it clear to me that something about my relationship with God and his church needs to change.
Jesus inspires me. When church is about Jesus, that can inspire me too. When it's about programs for reaching out, I get weary of hearing about it.
I'll unpack some of these thoughts in later posts and talk about things that have happened more recently. If you found this through my Facebook profile and you'd like to keep following it, you'll have to check back here or subscribe to an RSS feed, because I don't plan to post links to any more posts on Facebook.
Monday, March 04, 2013
Big change on the way
I'd like to share some news with both of my faithful blog followers. We're expecting a baby! This will be our first. We're both excited and nervous. Admittedly, we're not as excited as a lot of parents get, at least not as excited as the stereotypical ones. But we are looking forward to it.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Divinely inspired food
"Take also unto thee wheat, and barley, and beans, and lentils and millet, and spelt and put them in one vessel…" Ezekiel 4:9®This is a direct quote from the Food for Life website, ® symbol and all. Yes, that verse of the Bible is now a registered trademark. So where did this come from, and why do I bring it up here?
Well, when I started paying more attention to the natural food aisle at the local grocery store, I noticed a cereal and a few other products called Ezekiel 4:9, which got their ingredient list from a verse in the Bible. Something bothered me about this. There's nothing inherently wrong with getting food ideas from the Bible, and it must be a natural food, probably fairly healthy, but a few things bothered me about this:
- It shows "magical thinking," implying that a key to good health is hidden in an obscure passage in the Bible, that a recipe from God must be healthier than anything else. They even refer to the Bible as the "Holy Scriptures" on the package. Again, nothing wrong with calling the Bible this. But it contributes to the impression that there's something "magic" about their food.
- It seems to be taking advantage of their customers' Christian or Jewish faith in order to make money, especially customers who believe this magical thinking.
But recently we bought one of their products. While eating it, we were wondering what that whole passage in the book of Ezekiel was actually about. Here it is from the New International Version, with verse 9 is in bold. I laughed as I got toward the ending:
So God gave this recipe to Ezekiel as part of an act symbolizing a siege, hardly an event known for healthy, tasty food. And then there's the fuel source. So if Food for Life really wants to be biblically correct, they should bake their products with that wonderful renewable fuel--cow dung.“Now, son of man, take a block of clay, put it in front of you and draw the city of Jerusalem on it. Then lay siege to it: Erect siege works against it, build a ramp up to it, set up camps against it and put battering rams around it. Then take an iron pan, place it as an iron wall between you and the city and turn your face toward it. It will be under siege, and you shall besiege it. This will be a sign to the people of Israel.“Then lie on your left side and put the sin of the people of Israel upon yourself. You are to bear their sin for the number of days you lie on your side. I have assigned you the same number of days as the years of their sin. So for 390 days you will bear the sin of the people of Israel.“After you have finished this, lie down again, this time on your right side, and bear the sin of the people of Judah. I have assigned you 40 days, a day for each year. Turn your face toward the siege of Jerusalem and with bared arm prophesy against her. I will tie you up with ropes so that you cannot turn from one side to the other until you have finished the days of your siege.“Take wheat and barley, beans and lentils, millet and spelt; put them in a storage jar and use them to make bread for yourself. You are to eat it during the 390 days you lie on your side. Weigh out twenty shekels of food to eat each day and eat it at set times. Also measure out a sixth of a hin of water and drink it at set times. Eat the food as you would a loaf of barley bread; bake it in the sight of the people, using human excrement for fuel.” The Lord said, “In this way the people of Israel will eat defiled food among the nations where I will drive them.”Then I said, “Not so, Sovereign Lord! I have never defiled myself. From my youth until now I have never eaten anything found dead or torn by wild animals. No impure meat has ever entered my mouth.”“Very well,” he said, “I will let you bake your bread over cow dung instead of human excrement.”He then said to me: “Son of man, I am about to cut off the food supply in Jerusalem. The people will eat rationed food in anxiety and drink rationed water in despair, for food and water will be scarce. They will be appalled at the sight of each other and will waste away because of their sin.
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