This time of year we are surrounded by myriad voices telling us to "buy this to make the season special" and "the real reason for the season is Jesus". The two voices are opposed, of course. Yet we indulge in both to some degree. The first voice really does nothing to cause us to edify God. The second, may or may not. The question is, "what do we mean when we say that Jesus is the reason for the season?" (And shouldn't we say the same thing at Easter time?) To clarify, what is it exactly that we are celebrating, and even more importantly, why?
We all know the story: Jesus born to Mary, a virgin, and Joseph, in Bethlehem, in lowly estate. Interesting, but noteworthy? Now consider that Jesus is God, taking on a human body and experiencing fully what it is to be a part of mankind. More compelling, but significant? If that is the extent of it--that God now has a fully "human" experience and can "relate" to us better than even our peers, I still don't see the point. Even adding the life of Christ here on earth and his teaching of, as some say, "how to do life," does not make it all something worth the celebrations we have each year.
What we have that is worth celebrating year after year is that in Christ we have not just the things mentioned above, but the fulfillment of the law of God in order that we can be reconciled to Him. That He submitted to the will of the Father and completed his plan of salvation for us. In comparison to the forgiveness of sins and right standing with God that we enjoy as those called out of bondage, the other aspects seem unimportant. They are however integral to our salvation. The humanity of Christ in the person of Jesus is what makes possible for him to be the perfect sacrifice in our place. The virgin birth that gives him his sinless nature. The life lived sinlessly (and the humanness that ability to relate to us as high-priest). All these things are significant too, but only in light of the plan of salvation. Our salvation makes Christ's coming worth celebrating.
We have in Christ so much to celebrate that it seems silly to try to do it all in one day (or two if you count Easter). We should celebrate Christ's coming (especially what the reason for that coming was) every day as we also look forward to his coming again.
May we all celebrate the reason Christ came: that he was the sacrifice for our sins, that we can be saved.
Merry Christmas
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
The tacos that changed the world
So I titled this blog Good Doctrine and Good Food with the intention that I would occasionally have something to say about food or drink. Shortly after I finalized this name with the blogger system, I came to lament the fact that though I have a great passion for tasty eats, I don't have much to say about them besides 'mmmmmm'. But, after dinner last night, I realized that I can use this forum at the very least to compliment my wife's cooking -- in print!
Last night we had beer battered fish tacos. Fried anything is a rarity in our house. The food is never short on flavor, it just rarely takes a hot oil bath before landing on my plate. Jess is very health conscious with her cooking, which I appreciate greatly. But I digress. Back to the tacos. These tacos were amazing. Its the second time I've had the distinguished pleasure of eating them. The batter makes them crispy and keeps the fish hot. The coleslaw is fresh and has little tomatoes in it, and the white sauce is fantastic with just a little spice. I don't know what's in it, but its great.
The first time I had these tacos I was amazed at how amazing they were. According to Jess, I gave them the highest compliment I've ever bestowed upon any dish she's prepared. I said "These tacos just made sweet love to my taste buds!" And they truly had. I needed a nap after dinner.
So was the experience equally staggering the second time around? Or was the first time with these tacos an experience that can never be repeated. I have to say, the second time was just as good. So good in fact that there were no leftovers.
It seems that combining good things results in amazing things. Beer-good. Fish-good. Fried-good. Taco-good. Add it all up and you've got a combination that could change the world!
Last night we had beer battered fish tacos. Fried anything is a rarity in our house. The food is never short on flavor, it just rarely takes a hot oil bath before landing on my plate. Jess is very health conscious with her cooking, which I appreciate greatly. But I digress. Back to the tacos. These tacos were amazing. Its the second time I've had the distinguished pleasure of eating them. The batter makes them crispy and keeps the fish hot. The coleslaw is fresh and has little tomatoes in it, and the white sauce is fantastic with just a little spice. I don't know what's in it, but its great.
The first time I had these tacos I was amazed at how amazing they were. According to Jess, I gave them the highest compliment I've ever bestowed upon any dish she's prepared. I said "These tacos just made sweet love to my taste buds!" And they truly had. I needed a nap after dinner.
So was the experience equally staggering the second time around? Or was the first time with these tacos an experience that can never be repeated. I have to say, the second time was just as good. So good in fact that there were no leftovers.
It seems that combining good things results in amazing things. Beer-good. Fish-good. Fried-good. Taco-good. Add it all up and you've got a combination that could change the world!
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Pimp That Cart
I read this on a blog post from teampyro.blogspot.com
"The evangelical mistake is this: if we make a community with attractive values, maybe we can then slip the Gospel in sideways and draw people to Christ. It makes the community consequences of the Gospel the objective rather than something which is caused by the objective."
It was a post about the gospel presentation and how watering it down over the years has yielded preaching that rarely if ever includes any message of sin-forgiveness-gospel, etc. In essence, the cart has been put before the horse, and the modern evangelical community has made the false assumption that if you make a nice enough cart for people to get in, they'll eventually notice the horse behind it. But in reality, community is a result of us hopping in a cart with the right horse in front of it because we want to follow that horse, not because the cart is nice. Try convincing a perfectly happy sinner that "a relationship with Jesus" will "make his life better."
Pimped out cart before the horse: (Look at me, I'm in this fabulously pimped out cart and we all love each other and have fun, come join us! Oh, the horse behind us? My pastor can tell you about him later...hop in! Oh, you've got other things to do? Too bad, you'll really miss out on what this life has to offer...)
I think you can imagine the alternative (Hey you! You need a ride in this cart. Look its the only one with a horse attached; its the only one that's going to go anywhere. Oh, and you don't have legs so you aren't going anywhere without this horse.)
This got me thinking about other areas of Christian life and wondering about the cart-horse relationship in those instances. The first that came to mind was worship. Why do we do it? Is it so that I get something out of it? A good feeling or "closeness to God" perhaps? OR, do I worship because as I acknowledge who God is and what he has done, it is the only logical response? If the latter is the case, then the good feelings will follow. Its like giving a Christmas gift. I don't do it because it makes me feel good, I do it for the person I'm giving the gift to. Giving them something that makes them happy makes me feel good. Its not the giving so much as knowing the recipient is pleased. So does worship make you feel good? It should, but it should make you feel good because you know God is pleased by it.
So are you in the pimped out cart or the one with the horse in front?
"The evangelical mistake is this: if we make a community with attractive values, maybe we can then slip the Gospel in sideways and draw people to Christ. It makes the community consequences of the Gospel the objective rather than something which is caused by the objective."
It was a post about the gospel presentation and how watering it down over the years has yielded preaching that rarely if ever includes any message of sin-forgiveness-gospel, etc. In essence, the cart has been put before the horse, and the modern evangelical community has made the false assumption that if you make a nice enough cart for people to get in, they'll eventually notice the horse behind it. But in reality, community is a result of us hopping in a cart with the right horse in front of it because we want to follow that horse, not because the cart is nice. Try convincing a perfectly happy sinner that "a relationship with Jesus" will "make his life better."
Pimped out cart before the horse: (Look at me, I'm in this fabulously pimped out cart and we all love each other and have fun, come join us! Oh, the horse behind us? My pastor can tell you about him later...hop in! Oh, you've got other things to do? Too bad, you'll really miss out on what this life has to offer...)
I think you can imagine the alternative (Hey you! You need a ride in this cart. Look its the only one with a horse attached; its the only one that's going to go anywhere. Oh, and you don't have legs so you aren't going anywhere without this horse.)
This got me thinking about other areas of Christian life and wondering about the cart-horse relationship in those instances. The first that came to mind was worship. Why do we do it? Is it so that I get something out of it? A good feeling or "closeness to God" perhaps? OR, do I worship because as I acknowledge who God is and what he has done, it is the only logical response? If the latter is the case, then the good feelings will follow. Its like giving a Christmas gift. I don't do it because it makes me feel good, I do it for the person I'm giving the gift to. Giving them something that makes them happy makes me feel good. Its not the giving so much as knowing the recipient is pleased. So does worship make you feel good? It should, but it should make you feel good because you know God is pleased by it.
So are you in the pimped out cart or the one with the horse in front?
The Gourmet Pastor
Maybe its because I have been watching too much of the Food network, or maybe because I like analogies like a painter likes paint, but I decided a pastor should be like a gourmet chef. Hang with me here:
A gourmet chef has studied and knows what makes food good.
A pastor has studied and knows the word of God.
The same way that a chef crafts a meal, bringing together all the correct flavors and textures that make the one enjoying it say "wow, that is delicious", a pastor should craft a sermon that is a spiritual meal with doctrine that sticks to the bones. Just as I should never leave a gourmet restaurant hungry, I should never leave the sanctuary hungry on Sunday morning. I would not expect a chef to put ham-n-cheese on white bread in front of me and say to me "you can make fancy food for yourself at home, I am serving something everyone will eat", I would expect him to put something in front of me that I may not have tried before, that would challenge my taste buds, that would make me think about what I was eating. Much the same way, I expect a pastor to put before me on Sunday some challenging concept or new understanding based on his extensive study of the matter. I expect to be fed something substantial, so that having a taste of rich, hearty, meaty spiritual food on Sunday, I will crave it even more throughout the week. I pity those who have only ever heard sermons that could be digested before the last song was sung. Just like those who have never tasted anything but bland food, they are missing out and probably malnourished. But, having never experienced anything different, they have no idea that there is more.
So, whether its a good analogy or not, a sermon should not be bland or forgettable. It should be full of flavor and well presented, memorable, challenging and filling.
A gourmet chef has studied and knows what makes food good.
A pastor has studied and knows the word of God.
The same way that a chef crafts a meal, bringing together all the correct flavors and textures that make the one enjoying it say "wow, that is delicious", a pastor should craft a sermon that is a spiritual meal with doctrine that sticks to the bones. Just as I should never leave a gourmet restaurant hungry, I should never leave the sanctuary hungry on Sunday morning. I would not expect a chef to put ham-n-cheese on white bread in front of me and say to me "you can make fancy food for yourself at home, I am serving something everyone will eat", I would expect him to put something in front of me that I may not have tried before, that would challenge my taste buds, that would make me think about what I was eating. Much the same way, I expect a pastor to put before me on Sunday some challenging concept or new understanding based on his extensive study of the matter. I expect to be fed something substantial, so that having a taste of rich, hearty, meaty spiritual food on Sunday, I will crave it even more throughout the week. I pity those who have only ever heard sermons that could be digested before the last song was sung. Just like those who have never tasted anything but bland food, they are missing out and probably malnourished. But, having never experienced anything different, they have no idea that there is more.
So, whether its a good analogy or not, a sermon should not be bland or forgettable. It should be full of flavor and well presented, memorable, challenging and filling.
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