On Heaven as it is on Earth

“On Heaven as it is on earth.”

I do recognize that this is a direct misquotation of the Lord’s Prayer. Forgive me for that.   I hope this is in no way sacrilegious or dishonoring to the magnificence and glory that we will surely one day encounter in heaven.  But I think it is a pretty powerful thought.  Let me explain.

The other night—a sleepless one, where there was nothing in particular restraining me from sleep, yet a continuous sequence of nothings rendering the fading hope of a little kip as elusive as a vanishing cloud under the burning summer sun—I found myself visiting a blog that I had read through just over a year ago.  Many, to be sure, may have also been exposed to the incredible journey of Katie Davis—a 21-year old adoptive mother of 13 little Ugandan daughters, founder of Amazmia Ministries, currently (and most permanently) living in Uganda.  Along with thousands of others, I have at times been quite drawn to her bold story of love, sacrifice, obedience, and blessing.  At 19 years of age, she left home, her boyfriend, everything she knew, and took on the role of Mommy to 3 precious little girls.  I don’t mean to glamorize her life, or exonerate her sacrifice above any other.  I certainly don’t think everyone needs to move to Africa (not to mention, alone) and adopt 13 children, but I do think her example is living proof that we can give EVERYTHING to God.  Absolutely everything.  Nothing could ever be too much.  Katie’s life is so completely full.  Every day is a mission field.  Every day seems to hold incredible adventures, blessings, and trials.  Yet, in some ways, her life is even normal.  She loves her daughters as they love her, they read stories together—laugh, play, get sick, get better, and eat dinner together.  I imagine Katie even has days, just like I do—where we wake up (or lie awake) and think—“What in the world am I doing here?”  I am sure there are, or have been, days where Katie wanted to quit.  I am sure there have been times where her heart felt like it was ripped out of her chest, where the hurt was so deep or loneliness was so great that even breathing became a chore.  And then, there may have been times where her heart maybe even felt numb, or almost desensitized to the world moving around her.  I am sure there are days Katie almost talked herself into packing up and moving home—that her sacrifices there weren’t really needed, or that perhaps the easier road was really where God wanted her.  (I realize I am speaking for her quite a bit here, but even the Savior of the world asked God to “take this cup from [him].”)  But then, looking at the pictures of Katie, surrounded by her loving, precious, happy family—I thought of how incredible it will be one day, when all of those souls are gathered around her in heaven and are no longer her adopted children, saved by grace after enduring trials we have never even imagined, but they will be whole creations, at one with her in the Creator.  I thought of her whole family in a mansion grander than any on this earth.  I thought of the love and fullness that Katie and her family would experience in heaven because of their obedience, sacrifices, and love here on this earth.  And I prayed for a second, “Lord, on earth as it is on heaven…”  And that is when it clicked.  

Bounce back.

Almost 3 years ago, I went on my first study-tour to the Near East with George DeJong.  We actually began our journey in Egypt, and worked our way over to the Sinai Peninsula, through Jordan, and up to Israel.  We followed the journey of the Hebrews as they were taken out of captivity in Egypt and in to the Promised Land.  A year later, I joined Ray Vander Laan on a trip through Israel and Turkey.  There, on the rugged Turkish hills—land forgotten and unnoticed by most “visitors” to the country, land that our feet came to know so well, and land that taught me so much about the story of our God and His people—I remember a small little faith lesson that I believe was a bit unplanned (as so many of Mr. Ray’s are).  I think we had passed a bit of trash on the road, or—given the scorching desert heat—perhaps his stance on global warming came in to question.   But I remember he was commenting on our role as Christians to be good stewards of the land, the earth.  He said that we had been given dominion here to rule over the resources God placed here in a way that would honor and glorify the Creator.  Now—this particular concept was not necessarily new news, as I had been working for a youth mountain hiking ministry in Colorado for the previous 7 summers.  There I developed an appreciation for the land and learned about our relationship with the natural world—the Creator, and His creation.  Mr. Ray also told us how diligently the Hebrews would work and tend to their land.  They saw their land as God’s charge to them and their purpose would be fulfilled in the honor with which they tended the land.  They would pass on their fields generation to generation, always hoping to leave the land better, more fertile for the future generations.  

But what Mr. Ray said next was new.  It did bring entirely new light to my idea of Godly Purpose on this earth.  He said that part of the reason the Hebrews were so diligent in their tending of the land was because of their dutiful commitment to their God-given dominion over the earth, but another aspect was a result of their their understanding of the Covenant.  Part of God’s promise to Abraham was certainly referring to a Promised Land land flowing with milk and honey, where they would not be enslaved.  But the other Hebraic understanding included the comprehension of a place to serve God, and then extend His kingdom.  Each square foot of land that the ancient Jews would work, was a square foot of land that had been reconciled to God.  The Jews thought of their service as literally bringing down the Kingdom of heaven, in accordance with the ancient prayer, “on earth as it is in Heaven.”  

And I have never been one to “get into” end times studies or even postulate too extensively or concretely on the reality of heaven, but this next discussion made a lot of sense to me.  Mr. Ray said that perhaps (just perhaps—always only a suggestion), there wasn’t a new place that we would ascend to in order to enjoy eternity, but maybe this earth was really it.  Maybe this earth was also part of the “all things reconciled to Him…” from II Corinthians 5, or from Acts 13, “Repent and return, so that your sins may be wiped away, in order that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord; and that he may send Jesus, the Christ appointed for you, whom heaven must receive until the period of the restoration of all things about which God spoke by the mouth of His holy prophets from ancient time.”  

God’s ordained Words, the very Words of God—a period of restoration, not recreation.  

We will dwell on the new earth—yet, perhaps not an entirely new world or some floating pearly city in the sky. 

And this realization gave me a renewed sense of purpose.  The work I do here is actually aiding in the restoration and reconciliation of “all things.”  Under this interpretation, I can participate in the ushering in of the new earth.   I can be a part of that force that Rv. 21 refers to as the new Jerusalem descends like a bride on this earth.   

“And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.”  (Rv. 21.2)

What we do really matters.   This understanding makes the purpose of God’s creation, salvation, and reconciliation so much more relevant and immediate.  I can be a part of this “on earth as it is on heaven.”

***Disclaimer:  I am not saying the above is necessarily “correct” Biblical interpretation, but I am merely suggesting (per Mr. Ray) that this is perhaps a layer of how we can understand Heaven, earth, and our place there within.

Which is where I jump back to Miss Katie’s story.  She is doing it.  For her, it is happening.  She is ushering in the grace of God and the reconciliation intended for us all.  She is serving with the diligence, determination, and immediacy that the descent of the new Jerusalem and the establishment of the new earth will require of us. In going back to her blog to confirm a few details for this post, I noticed for the first time that the tab of her blogspot reads "on earth as it is in heaven."  My heart is pricked with the ironic confirmation of her work.  In her daily, constant, loving, tried, and true efforts, Katie is partnering in God's story to bring a piece/peace of heaven to this earth.  And even now, the truth is evident--in so many ways, her world already resembles what I envision to be the nature of heaven.  How cool is that. For Katie, perhaps it may be “in Heaven as it is on earth.”

And maybe, someday, for me as well.

Thanks for reading.  Stay Dusty.

*b.Nicole

**Disclaimer:  If I have misrepresented the views of either Katie Davis or Mr. Ray Vander Laan, please feel free to let me know (if you are either of these two--highly unlikely!!, if you were there, or if you can provide me with the correct details from a reliable source).  Gracias.

Freedom is as Freedom does.

What is Freedom?

It was my third hour in the less-than glamorous La Guardia Airport just outside New York City. After exhausting all installed distractions and attractions in the single corridor of the LGA terminal, I found my departure gate and dipped in to my “Mary Poppins Bag” to find some distractions of my own. After MadLibs got old by my lonesome, I had wasted enough doodles on my 3-D notepad, and the malfunctioning fire alarm system siren had kept me from reading, I gave up my activity-driven occupiers, and settled in with some thumb-twiddling and people-watching. But with over an hour left before Elite and Assisted boarding began—which I was not--I used a lifeline and “phoned a friend.”

The conversation turned rapidly from a brief recap of my trip to a consideration and appreciation for my ability to travel with such freedom. And there it was. The word. Freedom.

I should be grateful for the freedom to travel?

For some reason, the verbiage struck me as odd.

Of course, by law I am granted liberty to travel—but pending my adherence to certain documents, fees and rules. There is an awful lot I have to comply with if I am going to have the "freedom" to take a trip to New York that I am not quite sure I feel comfotable toggling to my association of freedom. For example, I need a government ID to board a plane; I need a way to make money to pay for my airfare; I need to understand the rules of aviation travel and go through certain security measures in order to be allowed access through the airport. I also must hope that the pilot shows up, that the flight isn’t overbooked, and that there isn’t too much traffic on my way to the airport. So there are quite a few contingencies to this “freedom” that I arguably possess in order to travel--and some of them are completely beyond my control.

And then I begin to wonder—is this really freedom at all?

Sure—my questions may set us on a bit of a rabbit-hole race through Semantics Grove. And perhaps a pointless pursuit, but I do believe there is something profound beneath the conventions of our cultural freedoms which allude to our assumptions of the idea. And even more so, such usage and associations shed light on our conceptions of Freedom (capital “F” on this one, for those less-than-OCD readers--ME!).

Words such as these: Love, Goodness, Truth—the words that are really ideas—are quite precarious in our modern culture. The versatility in the application of even the word "Love" ranges from the candied lips of a pre-adolescent mall rat expressing her enthusiasm for the Hello Kitty bracelet at Claire’s, to the tender, profound look between the seasoned wrinkled eyes of the golden-anniversary lovers.

And me?  Well--I love my phone. I love your shirt. I love that song. I love my friends. I love my mom. I love the Lord.

Notice a problem?

We do not have a linguistic distinction between how we feel about our cell phone and how we care for our parents. Admittedly, I think we all recognize the variant nature of the word love, and no one really asserts that one’s love for a technological device and the love for a mother are really even that similar. We are cognitively aware of the difference, but my question of distinction would point more to the reciprocal relationship—do we ever “love” our mothers like we “love” our cell phones? When our cell phone saves us, we love it! When our cell phone works normally, we often forget about it. And when our cell phone breaks, or isn’t working properly, or is the vessel of an unappreciated conversation or interaction, we despise it and sometimes mistreat it.

So is this really “love”? And I do not intend to infer that if we had a different word for cell phone and mother-love that we would always treat our mothers with the Love that we should bestow upon them, but perhaps our idea of love would be a little less murky and a lot more meaningful.

And I regress to the idea of freedom. Perhaps we have done similar damage in our cultural exploitation of the idea. Our country was established on the premise and promise of freedom. But is freedom really freedom if there are things we have to do—or even more devastatingly, things that must be done—in order to remain a beneficiary?

I would venture to say that freedom and compliance are mutually exclusive. I could get myself in to some trouble here, so allow me to preface my thoughts—I believe with all of my heart that Freedom is absolute dominion, but within our will, we can choose freely to comply. Thus, freedom can often turn to bondage, masquerading as religion or righteousness, if we do not first understand the nature of freedom. And I may not at all understand Freedom today as it will one-day be revealed to me, but I see no circumstance that could entail any form of requirement. Otherwise, such prerequisites would contradict the very essence of Freedom—complete dominion. But I will explicate this idea at a later point.

My primary concern is that the colloquial usage of the word freedom carries certain requisites or contingencies that should not be attached to the true idea of Freedom. Notably, the conceptual application of Freedom to freedom does not construct such compromise as the unintended consequences incurred by the application of freedom to Freedom.

True Freedom does not have strings.

And God repeatedly emphasizes this in His Word. But we still somehow miss it. And I think part of this is because there is nothing, apart from Freedom in Christ, that is really Freedom at all. Our ideas of freedom are limited and distorted by the experiences we associate with the idea of Freedom. Our perception is instructed by how we classify our experience. We have municipal freedoms, social freedoms, financial freedoms (which many of us understand more in relationship to its opposite) and religious freedoms. We even hold strong mental images of freedom with white doves, broken shackles, unbolted cages, and whimsical winds.

But none of these are the Freedom God offers.

There is nothing we could ever do, nothing we could ever find, and nothing that we could ever truly compare to what Absolute Freedom must look like.

So how can we begin to understand freedom?

Well, I read a book once about a woman’s experience in Rwanda, Africa during the civil war between two tribes—the Hutu and Tutsis. The woman was a Tutsi, and was hiding in a bathroom with seven other women for 91 days. The women—over the three-month period—had to sit on top of each other just to fit in the tiny space, rotating positions throughout the day and experiencing all of the issues of normal women throughout the months. Her situation seems to me, something like Hell. But in her book, Immaculee tells one story that floored me. After she was freed from hiding, she came in to contact with the person that killed her family and then left her to hide in a bathroom for three months—she looked him in the eyes and said, “I forgive you.” And I believe her. But more than my vote of confidence towards the woman’s display of grace, and incredible sense of lightness overcame me when I considered the beauty in her words and her heart.

I remember thinking to myself—“This is Freedom.”
Yet such a picture of freedom would seem so contradictory to traditional interpretations. The woman was locked in a bathroom. She was being persecuted. She barely had room to sneeze, much less the ability to take a trip to visit her sister or buy a car. Even her sister had been taken from her. Nothing really was within her control. Not even her own life. She would either die in that bathroom, or be there until she was set free. And there is it—the word free again. Something she seemingly did not have. But when I reflect on this story, my heart fixates on her Freedom, and I would imagine her heart would sing a profound sense of Freedom, as well.

Therefore, Freedom cannot be contingent upon anything. Our Freedom is a gift, to elect or reject.

When we understand Freedom in this context, the implications can be profound.

To begin at the beginning, God’s story records, “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” And then, he assigns His Good Creation to rule “everything that has the breath of life in it” (Gen 1). If we have been given dominion over all that breathes, we are also given dominion over ourselves. We are, in a sense, our own principalities. So this should be enough for freedom, right?

But then we somehow compromise our freedom when we take advantage of freedom in a way that God did not intend for His Creation. We again found ourselves in bondage. In order to re-discover Freedom, we needed salvation.

And this is where the story of the Cross becomes incredible.

People always question the difference between the story of God and our Messiah Christ and all of the other religions. I can be the first to admit that there are a lot (a LOT) of similarities. This prospect used to threaten me, but I know say, “Of course.” My heart finds such consolation when I recognize that we are all searching for the same thing. God even promises us that there is enough of Him in everything for every man to witness to the Creator. In our attempts to satisfy our insatiable inner magnetism towards God, we find ourselves at variant points along the continuum of understanding. I do not think any one of us have “arrived,” so I rest with the peace that God is moving each of us along within the unique circumstances of his evolutionary Creation. But I digress. The difference in our story is that our Freedom, our Salvation, is contingent upon nothing other than the sacrifice of Christ that has already been made—that God foresaw at the establishment of the Universe. The only true Freedom is in Christ.
“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free” (Gal. 5.1).
And when we really understand—I mean really, really try to grasp—that we could do absolutely nothing to earn this gift of Freedom, I think we finally merge the great divide to something like accessing it.

We give up all self-righteousness when we find true freedom. We give up on pride when we find true freedom. We eliminate all sense of insecurity, self-hate and envy when we discover true freedom. And when we are no longer bound by the patterns of this world, we become a whole lot more like Christ. We adopt His mind and His will when we live within the freedom that has always been available to us.

Freedom is as Freedom does.

Thanks for stopping by.
Stay Dusty.
*b.Nicole

Response: Suicide and Eternity

Anonymous said...

How do you feel about suicide and heaven? If you repent before you well do the deed do you still get into heaven?????

August 18, 2011 2:50 PM

Response:

I will say, I appreciate your comment more than you could know. I also must note--I am just a human, with human knowledge, dealing with real human problems. I will begin more traditionally by sharing some of the specific places the Text deals with these issues… but then I will follow up with what the entire narrative--within the full context of how I understand the story of God and His creation-- tells my heart.

There are seven recorded instances of suicide in the Bible. Probably the two most well-known occurrences are the acts of Judas Iscariot (the one that betrayed Jesus, recorded in the synoptic gospels) and Samson (the Jewish judge that was essentially the ancient-equivalent of the 9/11 bombers, recorded in the book of Judges). (If you are not familiar with these stories, I would encourage you to follow think link to both Judas and Sampson and familiarize yourself with this content. A brief reading could lay foundational context in approaching this subject.) Interestingly, Judas’s choice was committed in shame, remorse and guilt and the Bible does not seem to approve of his act. Yet in contrast, Sampson’s act was spurred by his request to God for great strength—strength enough to pull down the supporting pillars of a temple—on top of himself and many more Philistine “rulers and people.” It seems atrocious, but God is recorded as approving of Sampson’s sacrifice.

So we have two forms of suicide within these stories, as well as two different divine reactions. The problem of suicide (from a biblical perspective) does not seem to revolve around the “act” itself as much as we may have originally considered. Perhaps there is something larger, or completely different at play.

Without diving too deep into the nature of God, the problem of Good and Evil/Heaven and Hell, it seems that Anonymous is asking about suicide within the context of the eternal existence that the Bible refers to as “heaven.” Since biblical terminology has been introduced, I can only assume the regard for the Bible that I possess.

I think the Bible is Absolute Truth. Now, my own human understanding of this Truth is an entirely different subject, but I can only continue allowing the Text and this life to influence and expand my understanding. Also, when I refer to Absolute Truth, I do not mean historical, nor scientific, accuracy. To explain--although there probably never existed two little German children named Hansel and Gretel that left a trail of crumbs on their way to play, the story may contain Truth—in the capital “T” sense. There may be a lesson within the story that deems the fable worth telling. Also, instead of dissecting the individual segments of the Bible (although this vein of study can be beneficial, as well), when I consider Universal or Ultimate Truth, I try to consider the entire story. From my understanding of the entire story, I believe God is Good. Perhaps I cannot understand His Goodness, but my hope informs my faith of this, even in my lack of understanding, and I trust in the Text that affirms my hope. I also believe in the full reconciliation of the Creator to His Creation. “For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him [speaking of Jesus], and through him to reconcile to himself [God] all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.” God wants everything to be reconciled to Him. I believe this with all my heart. That said… here are a few considerations.

What is wrong with suicide? I would venture to say that suicide is playing God. I would consider suicide in the same “category of transgression” as murder. Taking a life is taking a life, whether someone else’s or your own. There are many atrocities of terror that, as in Sampson’s case that appear as martyrdom—a single soldier with a sure fate running to the front line of a battle to save his platoon, or the lone astronaut that stayed behind on Apollo 13—but these have a diametrically distinct sentiment to the acts we most often refer to as suicide. The latter are normally characterized by shame, guilt, depression, hopelessness and loss. When someone takes their own life in this state, I feel as though they have lost faith in God--lost faith that His Goodness, although not synonymous with happiness, will see them through. Life seems to be some kind of training ground, full of lessons and obstacles to bring us closer to the image of Christ. Many Christians live for the Afterlife, and become focally fixated on heaven and hell to the extent that they ignore, what I see as, an intricate part of God’s intent of Creation. So, although this life may be “fleeting,” there must be some eternal aspect or significance to it that gives it any validity.

I see Jesus’ ministry as much more immediate and with far more emphasis on the life we have here on earth, than the Christian perspective tends to embrace. I also see our purpose here as a partnership in ushering in the eternal—that somehow we are a part of “all things being reconciled to himself.” God has given us ways to be a part of this. He has shown us how to be a part of this in Jesus—whom is our Salvation. Our salvation seems to be in taking part of His plan and abiding within His will. (Salvation here is not in the eternal sense, but in the freedom offered in the life God offers.) Cutting out early is missing out on the opportunities to be a part of this incredible story. And this is where I think the tragedy lies.

So is suicide sin? In 1 John 3.4, sin is considered a “transgression of the law” or anything “unrighteous” (1 John 5.17). Then Paul adds in Ephesians, that “what is not of faith is sin.” To me, I see sin as anything outside of God’s will. I would consider suicide a sin. Many people attach this particular sin, because it is a finality I would assume, as an act that would exclude the sinner/victim from the eternal existence outlined in the Bible. Yet, there is only sin the Bible lists as unforgivable--blasphemy against the Spirit. This unforgivable transgression is referenced in all three synoptic gospels. Therefore, suicide is forgivable. And then the question may arise, "But if repentance and acceptance of Christ as Savior is necessary for salvation, when would someone who had killed themself have the opportunity to repent?"  But there must be many that have died with unrepented sin.  And if the person were so deeply lost in the darkness without a sight of Hope, yet all their life, they saught out the Goodness in God and this world and they recognized and knew Christ as Saviour, will they face eternal condemnation?  I struggle here, but my heart hopes for a God larger than death and time.

Such logic, of an arbitrary judgement, disregards the eternal nature of God. We are bound by a directionally limited existence—we can only move forward in time, like one-direction ray. In eternity, this concept of time in progression would be unnecessary. Eternity is not bound by time as we are. Therefore, the ordinal chronology of repentance and sin may be irrelevant.

In my understanding of God’s ultimate plan for reconciliation, my heart would hope that all would be brought into his eternal existence. I think He certainly wants this, as well. I do not know what would happen eternally to a person that takes their own life, but I know God must mourn the loss of hope in His creation as my own heart mourns the brokenness and destitution of suicide.

But most of all, to really “answer your question,” this is not my call. I know that brings us back to square one. But I am not Judge. All I can do is seek to understand the life He calls me to today—in this life—and hope that His life in me will bring others into this incredible plan, as well. And although I could never know for certain in this life whether or not there is an Eternal Heaven and Hell, I live my life considering that there may be. But without focusing on where I (or others) will end up, I focus on how I can live THIS LIFE as a part of His Creation. I don’t know how much this would help, but this trajectory is where my heart brought me. If you have more questions, please continue the conversation. Your heart for people is very apparent, Anonymous. Thank you.
Stay Dusty.
b.Nicole

 

RESPONSE: Has anyone ever stopped and asked...

Comment from Original Post:


       Anonymous said...

YES!!! I've asked that question to the point where it's caused me great anxiety! Why would Jesus have to die and how does that save me? I mean, this is the very core of our faith, isn't it? This is the first time I've had it explained to me this way and it was quite encouraging and thought-provoking. So, thank you!

I still have a lingering question or two. For example, who wrote the rule/law that there must be a sacrifice made or that the consequence of sin is death? Why did Abraham and his people have to be perfect to be blessed?

Thanks again!

Hello, there "Anonymous." :) Thank you for your words.. and your questions. I am going to attempt this, but please understand that I am in no way claiming to "have it figured out..." I ask a lot of questions, too--and when I start digging around and exploring the context of the Text, I sometimes end up with a few "ideas," but I normally find myself in a mountain of entirely new questions. So I completely relate.  

As for your questions... I don't know that there is a "law," per se, that requires a death sacrifice (that is, before the covenant with Abraham), but the blood covenant I refer to in this post is a cultural tradition that still exists in Bedouin culture today. The blood covenant is most often associated with the marital customs, but there are also times when a business deal or land dispute would necessitate a blood covenant. The greater party would be the groom's father and the lesser would be the bride's father (or grandfather). If the bride did not keep her promises--she wasn't a virgin, she didn't stay faithful, etc.--you would more than likely find her father or grandfather dead in a wadi, with bloody footprints dancing over the ground of his blood. Same scenario with the groom--if he did not provide for his bride, treat her well, provide the promised dowry--you would be sure to find the groom's father's body slung out in the desert, again with the mark of bare feet in his blood. This was simply the nature of the covenant.  

Now, in reading Genesis 15, God has promised Abram some very wonderful blessings. Abram is a righteous man of faith, and he tries to call God's bluff. Abram asks for some sign that he would know that God intended to keep his promise.  

Then, God commands Abram to go get a few very specific animals. (Later in the Hebrew Bible, these become the acceptable animals of an atonement sacrifice.)  

And next verse, Abram cuts the animals in half and lays them across from each other... This seems bizarre. There is no recording of God instructing Abram to do anything specific with the animals; God simply says, "Go get them." But God seems to be pleased, or at least not surprised, by Abram's actions, so it seems that God has approved of this ceremony or was expecting it. And to be fair-- perhaps God did instruct Abram to do this, and the Bible just has not recorded God's directions.  

But I believe there is another possibility.  

To me, when God asks Abram to gather the animals, and Abram knows exactly what to do with them, suggest that there must have already existed a custom in Abram's day that involved these specific animals. I grab my dog's leash and she runs to the door, wagging her tail in frenzied expectation. She knows what is coming, and I believe that at this point in Genesis 15, Abram knows exactly what is coming, as well.  

Thus, in the Covenant, the terms were not, "Abram--I give you all the heirs, a land to serve me, and and the blessing of the Messiah. So I will die for you to keep my promise." The covenant was, "Abram, I bless you with all these things, and in exchange, you and your offspring must be blameless." The CONSEQUENCE for not following through with a covenant--by default of EITHER party--would call for the blood of the transgressor. The covenant would then be null and void, and neither party would have any obligation to the other.  

And now, the incredible pictures in this story begin to unfold... God, the greater party, passes through the bloodpath first, sealing His promise to Abram. Next up would traditionally be Abram, being the lesser party. But if Abram steps one teeny-tiny toe into the blood, he essentially voids the transaction and will pay with his life.  

In this moment, I imagine Abram-- about to sentence himself to death--and God throws His strong, gentle arm in Abram's beating chest, and with the sage gravity of a martyr says, "No, my son. I've got this."  

And the terms all of a sudden change.  

God still says, "Abram--I give you all the heirs, a land to serve me, and and the blessing of the Messiah," as well as, "Abram, I bless you with all these things, and in exchange, you and your offspring must be blameless." But the difference is that God walked through the bloodpath path twice. Therefore, God ultimately says," If you, Abram, and your offspring are not perfect, YOU may do this to ME."  

And this is actually what I view as the necessity for God/Christ's death. He had to fall at our hands. And with His death, a new covenant is made. Hebrews 7 refers to this, "For if that first covenant had been faultless, there would have been no occasion to look for a second." Abram and his offspring failed, as we fail. We have sinned, and our sin sentenced Jesus to death on the cross. But this was God's gift to us. And in the completion of the Old Covenant, we can rejoice in the New Promise. '

So, this was long, but I was good for me to review all of this, as well. If you had these questions, I am sure others did, as well--even if they have not expressed or even fully formulated them. Thanks again...  

And as always, be encouraged.  
Stay dusty, 
*b.Nicole

Has anyone ever stopped to ask, "Did it really have to be like that?" Jesus and the Cross

We are thankful. We all rejoice. 

But has anyone ever stopped to ask, "Did it really have to be like that?"

Religious holidays are always a time of growth for me.  And not so much in the typical "spiritual high" sense.  They are a struggle.  I am always in a tug-of-war between remorse, rejoicing, and my own pride.  In light of Easter/Resurrection Day,  i find myself working through this conflict.  Part of me wants to fall in to humility and embrace the day with simplicity and gratitude.  People love to celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus.  It is incredible.  But another part of me knows that this emotional, and very real reaction is just not possible for me.  Probably a portion is my pride, but certainly a greater part is the loss I know I would experience in the raw, majesty of the whole story.  But I can't just talk about Jesus' blameless life, brutal death and miraculous resurrection without honestly addressing this one questions.

Really?  I mean--I am grateful.  If this is what needed to be done, I owe every breath and more to show my gratitude to Him.  But I must ask--Did he have to be perfect?  Did He have to die?  Did He have to die like that?  And what significance does the ascension really have?  

Basically,  God--Your story is  brutal.  When I look to the cross, I remember a blameless, righteous man hang there.  His life was so full of love and conviction, and You say love wins.  But why didn't Your perfect Love win then?  Couldn't He just have been perfect, and died loved by all?  How is this Your plan?

And this is where Easter brings me.  My soul mourns.  My thoughts break.  And my heart bleeds.  And I remain incredibly grateful--and grateful in a greater way than I could access when I thought I understood.   

But here is my point--do other people ask these questions?  Or is what I ask heresy?  (Although, David and Abram--and even Jesus--all asked God tough questions.)  But my greatest regret is, "How could we not ask this?"

Jesus hung on a cross--one of the most excrutiating and humiliating deaths--for us.  


His dying hours were horrific.  If he was at-all/any-ration human, his last breaths must have been miserable.


His death began early, as the soldiers mocked and whipped him the night before.  Then, he was made to carry the heavy timber that would serve as his tool of death through the winding streets, as he shamefully struggled under its weight.  When they were crucifying him, they did not break his bones, as they often would to accelerate death.  Jesus did not take wine to numb the pings that must have shot through His body as the nails were driven through his wrists.  


Was he even aware of what was happening, or did it all become a blur?  I don't honestly know if the body can really comprehend this level of pain.

And if he ever was aware, did he ever feel foolish as he hang on the cross--naked and bleeding.  Helpless.  And all who pledged their undying love, denied Him in the most profound sense.  Even His father turned his back on Jesus in His darkest hour.  Jesus dies with Psalm 22, the death Psalm, on His lips.  He was faithful.  But did He ever question why this was His plight, or even--if He had been mislead? 

I do not paint this dramatic picture to draw salty tears from heavy hearts, but almost the contrary.  Isn't this absurd!  Jesus did not deserve this.  Yet supposedly our sin convicted him.  But if God made the rules, couldn't he have slanted the game a little in His favor here?  

If love wins, why didn't it?

So there must be more.  And I believe there is.  Firstly--although we tend to believe that everything Jesus did was completely miraculous and unique, there had been a pattern in Judaism around the time of Jesus where a wise rabbi who led a Godly and righteous life would develop a following, heal the sick, spend time with the poor, and die a martyr to be raised after three days, then ascending to heaven promising to send another helper.  I don't say this to diminish anything that Jesus did.  He is the one True Messiah, but at least in the culture of Jesus' day. this pattern already existed--whether in truth or apparition.  I think we put so much emphasis on a few qualities of the Jesus story, focusing on how unique his healings and ascension were, but it seems that the gospels and following books highlight other aspects of the story.  

I know most of us probably stay in the gospels today, but perhaps taking a look at Genesis 15 could help us connect the stories.  In a rather obscure moment between God and Abram, I find the entire purpose for Jesus' death, and I get a sense of God's incredible love for his people.

God has just promised Abram offspring numbering the stars, and a land which he can live his life under God's authority and a seed which would bless the nations.  All if Abram could continue leading a life of righteousness.   Abram, displaying quite the dosage of Hebraic hutspuh, asks God how he will know that these things will be.  And then, God sends him to gather a heifer, a goat, a ram, a dove, and a young pigeon.  


And we miss this.  


Abram must have been shaking in his boots.  He asked God, more or less, to prove or promise that God would honor his word.  And God basically says, with words not recorded, "Okay, Abram. Then, let's make a covenant.  Go get the animals, and you will know that I am serious."  


But we do not understand the ancient tradition of covenant, so we read right past this is and miss the story that connects the entire Bible.  

In some parts of the near east Bedouin world, this form of covenant is still practiced.  It is called a blood covenant--between two parties, always a lesser and a greater.  The greater establishes the term, and the lesser can either agree, or pass on the covenant.  Then, the animals are gathered, cut i half, and placed across from each other creating a literal blood path where that blood runs in the middle.  The greater party walks first.  Barefoot though the blood, and without a word, he confirms that if he does not meet his end of the covenant, the other party may stomp through his blood like he walks through blood now.  Then it is the turn of the lesser party.  He does the same, without a word, committing the covenant and understanding that if he does not live up to his word, this will be his plight.  

Now we return to the Genesis story.  


This is the context of where Abram and God stand.  God says--being the greater party he gives the terms (not in Gen. 15, but from other contextual references), "I will give you, Abram, my righteouss servant, offspring numbering the stars, a land which to can live your life under my authority, and a seed which will bless the nations.  All you have to do is be perfect."   And this is the deal.  Perfect.  Abram must be perfect.


And as night falls, Abram falls into a deep slumber (thanks, Mom) and a smoking firepot passes through the blood path.  The Genesis account tells us of two images that travel the path.  Assumedly, God and Abram.  The first image--the smoke--is obviously God.  Many times before and after this story, God is symbolized as smoke (burning bush with Moses, coals in Galilee, etc.).  Plus, He is the greater party, so this correlation is largely undisputed.  


And in covenant tradition, next up is Abram.  


But curiously, the image that passes second is a torch.  There is no textual reference of a human ever being portrayed as a torch.  


Only God is ever fire or a flame.  


And I have to think--in this moment, as Abram--in his altered state of consciousness--is preparing to assume his role as the lesser party and step in the warm blood.  He considers the weight of his covenant with God--to be blameless so that he may receive receive God's promises.  Abram must have realized that he would fail.  And failure within this covenant is basically writing away any promise of offspring, and land to call his own, and most devastatingly,  the messiah.  


And in Abram's sure distress, God appears.  


With the symbolism of a torch, God walks the path for Abram as to say, "Abram, if you and your people are not blameless, you may do this to Me."  

And in this moment, God convicts Jesus to die on the cross.  


God even foreshadows His own sacrifice when he commands Abraham to offer up Isaac.  But God provides, just as he promised in His covenant.

In the later aftermath of this covenant, at Mount Sinai, as God gives an identity to the sons of Abraham, he calls them a royal priesthood and a holy nation.  God commands His people to confirm this covenant with Him that they will again live under the authority of the Lord, as he has brought them out from Egypt.  The children of Israel, are to make a sacrifice two times, every single day--once in the morning, and again at 3:00 pm before twilight "at the place where [His] name is" (the Tabernacle, then the Temple) to remind the people of this promise.  (Exodus 24-27)


Although the daily sacrifices had become quite elaborate by Jesus' day, the people understood the sacrifice to be an offering, begging God to keep his promise--to bring the messiah who would atone for their unrighteousness.  This is slightly different than our understanding of the ritual sacrifices.  We would tend to focus on sacrifice being atonement for our transgressions, which is certainly part of it.  But to miss the desperation in these sacrifices--the cry of the children of Israel to their God--to please bring about the blessing to the Nations.  


And for a thousand years, this practice was done twice a day, and the entire Jewish world would pause at 9:00 am and 3:00 pm, awaiting the sounding of the shofar which would signify the blood sacrifice.  And in the hour of their remembrance, they could take comfort in the covenant between their forefather and their God. 

Almost 2,000 years after the covenant between Abram and God.  It is Passover, and the Judaic world crowds in to Jerusalem to be a part of the feasts.  


On a Friday at 3:00 in the afternoon, just like thousands of Fridays before, the shofar resounds from within the city walls.  


But something is different.  Just outside the city gates, at the Place of the Skulls, a man hangs on a cross, and perhaps cries out his last words from Psalm 22 ("He has performed it," in our English translation.) 

"IT IS FINISHED!"

And it is.  God did it.  


God became the blameless sacrifice.  God offered salvation to the world through the life of Jesus and the death he had promised.   


Jesus' death was absolutely necessary.  Abram failed.  We failed.  This is our consequence.  


The most loving, incredible, wise, Good man in the history of the world had to die at our hands.  And his salvation is, in a sense rooted in his death, but the way to eternal, or everlasting life, if found also in His life.  His life of love.  

So let us be somberly, gravely thankful for the death atonement, but let us celebrate the story.  Let us celebrate the breath of life within the narrative.  Let us praise a God so huge, and so loving, as to not only give us a way of salvation, but to actually become it.  

So, today, I celebrate God.  I love Jesus.  I look to His life, and I rejoice in the one and only Messiah Christ.  

Blessings, friends.  Stay dusty.


And if you are in a scandalous mood, another perspective on the Blood Sacrifice of Jesus.

b.Nicole

***much adapted from the teachings of Ray Vanderlaan.  

      www.ttwmk.org

Faith Lessons on the Life and Ministry of the Messiah (Home VHS Vol. 3) Home Pack/Bible Study Guides

    

Questions from Humans: the Rob Bell/Heaven+Hell Controversy

We are the body. And we are imperfect. But we must never abandon Love. We must never forsake correctness for Unity. Unity can embody differences. The church can encourage disagreements. We can believe with a Holy passion in the truths which God has revealed to us, yet to divide the church, or summon condemnation seems a hateful perversion of our commission as followers of Christ. First and foremost we are children of God. Always, we are his and dearly loved. As His children, gripped by the evil in this world, we are offered salvation on Christ. We follow His son, and build His church. His banner over us is love.

There have been several high profile discussions over Rob Bell's recent book: Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. I would never want to stifle the discussion of such eternal principals; however the trajectory of these blog commentaries seems minimally hateful and malicious. My heart is heavy and my spirit is saddened. Satan will use ANYTHING. He is quite resourceful.

I have not yet read the book, so I hold no position to comment on the content. However, my current understanding is that there are far more questions posed than answers offered. If this is the case, what are we all so afraid of? If we seek the Truth, does not God tell us thT He will reveal Himself. For even the mountains and rocks cry out the name of the Lord! Anyhow, as stated, I have not read it, so I have nothing further to say regarding Bell's book.

What I can observe, however; is the response of the Christian community. We are breaking apart. This is a tragedy that burns me to my core, in far proportion to incorrect doctrine. Although, if I were in tue opposition, this travesty would pain me greatly, as well.

There are many blogs. But this particular blog is the one I have gotten involved in, for whatever reason. I have posted the link, not to point fingers, but because I do feel there is a lot of very valid content from both sides. I mourn the egos that emerge, but if you are seeking textual support and opposition for Bell's claims, there are some very knowledgeable sources from both sides.

http://www.dennyburk.com/rob-bell-outs-himself/

Please aim not to just adapt anyone elses view, but understand that we have been given (each of us) the mind of Christ to discern truth. Let us listen to our teachers and consider what God has placed in our heart and be willing to engage on an exploration of the truth that only God can reveal to us.

As always, thanks for stopping by. And please, friends... Stay Dusty.

*b.Nicole



Love


Please pray that the power of love does win, as promised.

Hope, Perception, and Expectation

Three words: Hope, Perception, Expectation. 

Such huge ideas.  Can any of us really fully understand the cause and function of hope?  Or the formation of Perception and to what extent it represents reality?  Or if Expectations are fair and how we are to know how to evaluate them. 

These are the questions that keep me up at night.  I know my introduction sounds rather metaphysical or existential, but really--everyone else has these same questions.  I process these firings in my brain through words adn writing, but others paint, draw, sing, or tell stories of these three muses.  I don't know that I have ever heard a song that did not touch on one of these three.  Every painting or piece of art is the created perception of the artist.  And why even get out of bed, or take the time to live, if we have no hope.  Thus, these three are central to the human condition. 

Honestly, I don't think I would have ever denied the incredible power hope, perception and expectation all play in our lives, but what I have recently begun to discover is the bguiling and mysterious connection between the three. 

Beginning with hope.  I think hope is the most wonderful gift humans have at their disposal.  We can remain in our present state--whether wonderful or devestated--but still see something beyond our circumstance.  Sure, the loss of hope can bring grief of uncomprehensible measures, but this is not necessarily all bad, either.  And the potential dissappointment of unrequited hope should never be a deterrent in maintaining the silver lining.  Yet, if we are to maintain hope, what are we to hope for?  Many people have hopes and desires that--unless by the divine stroke of God's intervention--are just never going to happen.  I can say, I have fallen victim to the hopeful illusion before.  But I just didn't understand what we were supposed to base hope on.  I have hope for heaven.  And for redemption.  And for a day when Good will reign for eternity.  I mean, if I allow myself to hope for these things, that should certainly give me leave to hope for mere acceptance to my choice Grad School.  Or that I will one day make it to Uganda.  And it doesn't even seem so crazy to hope that someday I may find a friend to share life with.  (WARNING: This is the DANGEROUS one.)  Because, if we can hope for heaven, what would ever stop us from placing hope in every desire? 

Well, this is where perception comes in to play.  When trying to understand why some hopes seemed healthier, or more valid than others, I began to see a patter.  Hopes thrown to the wind, with no string to draw the kite in, are empty and not tied down.  An example would be (DON'T LAUGH--I'm being vulnerable!) my desire to be walking down the streets of New York, bump into a dashing gentleman in his thirties, and him look deep into my eys and ask me to coffee, where he would tell me all about his life as a director, and make me the star of all his movies.  Ha.  I know, ridiculous.  I recognize that, but I cannot tell you how many times this scenario has played through my daydreams!  So, here is the breakdown on why this is so completely unrealistic.  I do not live in New York.  I am way too aware of people to mindlessly clothesline somone.  And I can't act.  So, although the vision is romantic and appealing, is is in absolute contradiction to reality.   To invest in this hope would be foolish.  I do not fly to New York weekly and circle the blocks, looking for handsome gents to "bump" into.  However, many people (to a far lesser extent) make these kinds of sacrifices for a hope, equally detached from reality. 

So, why is Heaven okay to hope for?  Well.  We must look at the facts. Observe the past.  Assess our perception.  For me, heaven is a wonderful hope.  But I see the evidence from my experience and my experience in my faith that has allowed me to perceive the promises of God as Truth.  As reality.  God promises a new earth.  A heaven.  I hope for this with each breath. 

What I am trying to get at is that a hope for heaven, as grand as it is, in my honest perception--my reality--is validated.  In perceiving past experience (not imagined futures), I develop an honest perception.  And then I take that perception to those in my world that I love and trust, and they help me see where my perception may be flawed or distorted.  I then continue with my hope in hand.  A solid hope.  A healthy hope based on the honest perceptions of my experience.  Granted, this method is still not full-proof.  There is a risk involved in hope.  But if your perception measures up and outweighs the risk, at least it was a risk worth taking. 

We will experience grief when the door closes on hope.  But as difficult as grief may be, and as dark and cold and long as the tunnel appears, we must realize that with time, the light of hope will eventually resurface. 

When hope enters our dark world, it illuminates all that it can reach, but it also cast shadows on what is hidden from its rays.  These shadows are the places affected by our hope, yet left unnoticed because of the shadow.  In these lurking places of our soul, we should evaluate our expectations.  I have never been sure what I can expect from another person or from life.  Without appearing too pessimistic, I have been dissappointed.  But we all have.  Unmet expectations could probably explain 99% of the world's problems.  So--if expectations cause so many problems, what is their benefit?  We should certainly use our perception assessment to evaluate our expectations.  If the reality of the past continually does not meet the expectations we hold, then we should evaluate our satisfaction with the past. If we are happy and contented, perhaps we should not hold ourselves arbitrarily to such rigid expectations.  Yet, if our past does not reflect peacefulness and happiness, we should probably work towards upholding our expectations.  We can not control the actions of other people or events, but we can decide what we will allow and what investment we will make in the pursuit of our hopes and fulfillment of our expectations. 

Simply, we may need to redefine our boundaries and commit to enforcing them.  By restricting our investment, we are creating a reality where our expectations have the opportunity to be met.  Boundaries are an interesting aspect of the triad.  They function within each angle of hope, perception, and expectation.  They reinforce the bonds between the three, keep us tied into ourselves, and keep us rooted to the reality that hope may allow us to forget. 

Overall, i cannot imagine my life without hope.  I find such peace and contentment in a place of healthy hope.  I can find solace in today.  I can be present in the present hour.  And I can allow my imperfections, knowing that each day is another step toward the goodness that I am seeking. 

Thanks for stopping by.  Be Encouraged.  Have Hope.   And stay dusty. 

The High Courts of Love + The 14th of February

Note:  I have chosen to arrange this post so that the historical background of St. Valentine's Day appears before my personal discourse and discovery of the Day for Love.  If you are less interested in the data, and would prefer to just observe insight from another perspective, I would suggest scrolling down to just below the Roses are Red poem to the paragraph beginning, "So I am not sure any of this work..."

Whichever point you find yourself on the continuum of St. Valentine's Day sentiment, I do not believe a heart exists outside of, or beyond, its spectrum of influence.  Sure, many see only the bad, and those of such opinion may readily contest my belief.  Yet, I would remind the skeptics that negative associations remain to be emotions, and humans have yet to discover how to avoid the affects of emotion.  Thus, Cupid's arrow still carries the sting, and his arbitrary target practice renders February 14th an annual excuse to disdain love.  But why let the American commercialization of yet *ANOTHER* holiday control the possiblity or mask the opportunity for something good?  For me, I had just lost contact with what the day was purposed to acheive.  It can't be all bad (as much as I think that would be easier), so I went on a quest to redeem the chubby cherib.  As [almost] always, I googled it.  

For starters, who is Mr. Valentine?  Well, there are actually 2 known martyrs of this appelation: St. Valentine of Terni (AD 197) and St. V. of Rome (AD 269).  However, by the time these two Casanovas were linked to the romance of 2.14, they had become one memory.  Not much is known of Val, except that he/they was/were buried on the Via Flaminia on the day we now celebrate. 

So, how did these two young chaps get hooked up on the love train?  The historical data, as it relates to the romantic tradition, actually presents a sketchy link.  Yet, as the origins of V-day, the subject remains worthy of consideration. The medeival acta, or "acts" of the saints appear in the haiographical Legenda Aurea [a.k.a.: The Golden Legend (the G.L. from here on), circa 1260 AD, is the Medeival equivilent of today's Harry Potter or Twighlight series--the "everyone-and-their-mother has read/loved/watched the movie/bought the T-shirt" fad.  However, instead of twisting tales of vampiers, warewolves and witchery, the G.L. records the fanciful accounts of the Saints as an anthology.]  Anyhow, the historical records state that Val was a Christian who came into contact with the Roman Emperor Claudius II.  Claud kind of liked Val, so the Emporer tried to convince Val to convert to pagaenism in order to save his life.  Val wouldn't concede, and in reply, he offered an audacious presentation instead, trying to convert Claud to Christianity.  Well, Val's "Come to Jesus" session didn't sit so well with Claud, who was not exactly enthused by Val's blatant disrespect.  And immediately, Claud called for Val's execution.  Suggestively, while awaiting his death, Val healed the blind daughter of his jailer.  A seemingly random point, but the significance ties in to the story at a later crossroad. 

So, those are the key points as recorded in the G.L., commonly accepted to be largely representative of historical fact. As for the modern romantic connection, we can attribute to the great "historical investigations" of American Greetings.  As posted on the history.com website (submitted by none other than American greetings), we read the story of a harsh Roman Emperor Claudius II who would not allow his soldiers to marry because he believed they would be less-effective warriors.  The love-crazed St. Valentine believed so faithfully in love, that he would secretly officiate the marriages of the soldiers.  When Claud discovered this treason, he ordered Val be put to death.  And then, while imprisoned before his execution, St. Val fell in love with the jailer's daughter, who would come to visit him everyday leading up to his death.  The day of his execution, February 14th of the 2nd or 3rd century, St. Val allegedly wrote the first "valentine" to Miss Jailer's Daughter, signing the note, "From your Valentine..."  Thankfully, history.com concedes the potential mysticism of this lore, a legend that most-certainly romanticizes the tale of a Christian martyr.  


From the 3rd century A.D., no St. Val romantic reference appears in literature until the 14th century, A.D.,  when Chaucer ushers in the use of the Saint's Day in reference to a season when birds meet to find their mate.  The poem, Parlement of Foules, was commissioned for the wedding of the 15-year olds, Richard II of England and Anne of Bohemia.  Cute. 

Now, the connection has been made.  France becomes the center of the world during the Early Renaissance and Enlightenment Periods.  The world comes together in Paris and explores life, learning and love.  On St. Valentine's Day in 1400 A.D., the High Courts of Love are established in Paris.  The special court deals with matters between lovers, betrayal, and the abuse of women.  Interestingly, the judges in the courts are elected by the women.  And the basis of their selection, a poem submitted by applicants.  These poems came to be known as, Valentines.  The earliest surviving record of such a Valentine is scribed by Charles d'Orleans from the 15th century who was being held in Captivity in England.  His submission was a poem for his wife, and in French, it reads:

Je suis desja d'amour tanné
Ma tres doulce Valentinée...
Charles d'Orléans, Rondeau VI, lines 1–2
The proliferation of this idea lead to an onslaught of literary references, and soon, the idea of Valentine's Day as a special day for lovers became tradition. An interesting note, we are all familiar with, "Roses are red. Violets are blue...," but the origins of this poem are actually from Edmond Spencer's, The Fairee Queen. The original text reads...

"She bath'd with roses red, and violets blew,
And all the sweetest flowres, that in the forrest grew."

Grammar's Garland Nursery Rhymes took off on this epic piece of literature and offers us,

The rose is red, the violet's blue
The honey's sweet, and so are you
Thou are my love and I am thine
I drew thee to my Valentine
The lot was cast and then I drew
And Fortune said it shou'd be you.

So, I am not sure if any of this work has acted to redeem or expose the origins of the Holiday for the Heart, but for me, I think I am ready to reclaim St. Valentine's Day, fable or fact. I do tend to question tradition--and not to rebel against tradition alone for rebellion's sake--but so that I do not forsake the richness and fullness of its origins. To take a retrospective glance reveals the rose-scented road that has brought us to dancing teddy bears and kiss-print boxers. This discovery liberates me to decide for myself whether, or not, this is an occasion I will accept, reject, or choose to redeem.

And the verdict. For me, I think this one may take some intentional redemptive measures, but I am none-the-less confident it can be done. Over the years, I have bounced between being jaded (wearing black on Feb. 14), rebellious (Single's Awareness Day! YAY!) and/or compensating (Jesus is my Valentine--true, but not legitimately the spirit of the day). As for today, I will choose to redeem. Because Valentine's Day IS a day for lovers. So, although I have no such attachment in 2011, I can recognize the holiday each year, but without feeling any pressure to compensate or yield.

I think of it like this. I am not Muslim, so I do not feel the need to participate in the fasts of Ramadan. Yet, I also feel no need to criticize, react, nor justify my absence in the festivities. Conversely, I am a person who loves God and Jesus. There are many days which carry a special significance to my faith. Passover, for example. Although I am thankful for the covenant between God and Abraham every single day, the Passover feast is a special time for me to fully embrace the gift of God's goodness. I just imagine a young boy in Jerusalem, participating in the ceremonies of the sacrificial lamb for the first time. Passover would be a yearly festival known to the young boy since his birth. Yet on this year, the festival carries unprecedented excitement, honor and significance--an experience that will hang heavily in his heart until the day of his death.

For me, I think I would like to look at Valentine's Day as such. No red balloons or boxed chocolates for me right now, but that is perfectly okay. I am presently not of station to participate in V-Day, but just as the young boy experiences the the yearly festivals since birth, his waiting period does not spoil his anticipation with shame or resentment, but he can cherish the day that he should be the one to bring the family sacrifice to the altar. Even now, I can see the goodness, and one day, if/when it is my turn to "carry the lamb to the altar," I will be ready to meet the occasion with steadfast joy and profound understanding and humility.


So, my charge to the Beyonce Crew/Single Ladies and the Bachelors 'til the Rapture--time for us all to sluff-off the shame+guilt associated with not appearing on Cupid's hit list, and maybe even be thankful for another year of escaping the crazy, toxic venom of Chunk's arrows. 

To all my Romeos and Juliets, Ferdinands and Isabellas, Guineveres and Lancelots, Edwards and Bellas, Bennifers and Brangelinas--equally time to stop taking for granted the goodness of Valentine's Day by cheapening it with false love or gifts not worthy to be brought to the altar. To bring back the metaphor, families would literally spend an entire year's wages just to bring a worthy sacrifice to the temple--all in hopes of begging God to remember their covenant. The promises of their faith rested in their traditions. Imagine the streets of Jerusalem perverted with paper cut-outs of lambs and pigeons and cotton-stuffed animals that perhaps even sing the scriptures. Impossible.  But if the Jews forget the origins of their traditions, perhaps this possibility becomes plausible, and even logical, considering the costs. Yet, what a profound detriment tied to the loss of the heritage of such rituals. And if the annual sacrifice could be purchased at a market on your way to the altar--with little, or no, effort and from only an hour's wages--would the redeeming covenant retain its potency? Suggestively, perhaps the real "gifts" of St. Valentine's Day have been muffled in the convenient markets filled with paper cut-outs and plush toys masquerading as the true gifts, leaving the Lover's Day empty or cheapened. 

 

Perhaps when the brokenness of Valentine's Day is restored, all hearts can be truly filled on February the 14th--either through God's gift of romantic love, or the hope found in God's love for romance.

Thanks for stopping by. Happy Valentine's Day. Stay dusty.