A few days ago, I posted a mystery photo and offered a prize to anyone who could guess what it was. Unfortunately, the contest proved to be too great a challenge; a few posted replies, but none guessed right.
You were looking at a close-up of the light fixture above my mirror. Looks much better with the light on than off, I think. Anyway, that was fun.
best,
-csa
I like people who turn things upside down. Throwing stuff up in the air is fun, too. More on these ideas later. I also recently wrote about my (continual) failure to meaningfully reflect upon thoughts, actions, and events.
Part of the point, though, is that there’s something to be said for brief respites from everyday life.
I propose that our weeks should not be “gotten through” but truly lived. Two components of this new “living” are celebration and its opposite — mourning. For the most part, it’s not very difficult to let joy subside or to “get over” something bad that’s happened. Perhaps these events should be made a little more meaningful to us.
I should celebrate things more often. Perhaps even small victories. I refer to the parable of the lost coin:
Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and seek diligently until she finds it? And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.
- luke 15:8-10 (esv)
The coins in question were called drachmas, each worth about a day’s wages. Not a great amount of money, but still not an insignificant amount. I propose this as a standard for celebration. Has something good happened lately? I should go out to eat, or better yet, cook a great meal and invite people over to share it. And I should tell you what I’m celebrating and why so that you may rejoice with me.
The same is true for grief. I imagine that there’s much I could be learning from unfavorable occurrences. Instead, I put on the hard shell of a frown and bad mood to wait out the storm. Could there be meaning to the madness?
But I’m not sure what form this would take. How do you mourn something? I’m familiar with mourning the loss of a loved one. But how do you mourn the loss of a drachma? Or is there a better way to celebrate that I’ve missed?
I took this photo yesterday. If you can guess what it is and your name doesn’t end in Roman numerals or the first name of a famous animator, you win a special prize.
-c. scott andreas
Last semester, I took a class in film production and criticism examining a Danish film movement called Dogma95. The essence of the movement is constraining oneself to a set of rules in filmmaking. I had the pleasure of working with Pat Boyle, Heather Goldsmith, and Coye Lloyd. Our final project required us to write something of a manifesto to guide the piece. The project, called “mobius,” is below. We were largely inspired by Michel Gondry’s “Sugar Water,” produced for Cibo Matto.
Take a minute or two to read and consider the rules following the credits. But above all, enjoy!
I sat down at the Borders’ Café Espresso on October 25, 2005 and wrote a few things in my journal. Below is a page.
It’s about reflection. And Word.
And God. And adventures.
[ click here for a full-size version ]
- c. scott andreas
This is a short-but-striking update to the “go [iv]” article posted below.
This afternoon, I updated the Connexion web site (http://www.connexiononline.org) with Dan Waugh’s verse of the week. It just happens that this verse condenses the 1800 words I wrote in “go [iv]” into less than thirty — and these with authority, nonetheless.
“[Christ] gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works.”
Titus 2:14, ESV.
He redeemed us in order that he might have a people to do his good works, worshipping him while loving and serving others. My words are merely an encouragement and charge to do just this.
grace and peace,
c. scott andreas
note: this is part four in a multi-part series.
update: typos corrected; apologies. 2/2, 1:45pm. -CSA
First, an update to my last article concerning the boycott of Burlington Coat Factory in response to NBC’s airing of The Book of Daniel: The show was recently cancelled, presumably due to the public’s lack of interest in slow-moving TV dramas concerning poorly-developed, stereotypical, uninteresting characters. Or, perhaps it was RenewAmerica’s brilliant strategy. I expect they held a calm, sober victory party worship service.
Tonight, I return to a series regarding the result of a saving and transforming experience with Jesus Christ (which I formerly characterized as “purpose“).
Near the end of the last article, I began to explore the “faith vs. works” dichotomy that we have constructed. It appears that this may have arisen partly in opposition to Pharisaic legalism ca. 80CE (not the historic Judaism of the Hebrew Bible), but also more recently as a response to the works-oriented (as opposed to works-based; I do not believe it is) catechism of the Catholic church during the Reformation in the mid-1500s. I apologize for burdening this paragraph with so many qualifiers. They are necessary for clarification, and indeed, deserve at least an article devoted to each. Unfortunately, this would set the “series” back a few more weeks. In any case, I do not feel that it is worth it.
My essential point is that the dichotomy of faith vs. works is a false one. We are saved by grace through faith (Eph. 2:8), certainly. But in no way does this negate either the value or necessity of concurrent or resulting action. The following is perhaps the most cogent statement concerning this fact:
Likewise, my brothers, you also have died to the law through the body of Christ, so that you may belong to another, to him who has been raised from the dead, in order that we may bear fruit for God.
Romans 7:4, ESV
Bearing this verse in mind, I once again would like to entertain bearing fruit as the “purpose” of salvation. Here, the phrase “in order that we may bear fruit for God” rather clearly indicates that this is so. I do not mean to restrict “bearing fruit” to being the sole purpose of salvation (I expect that there are many). But it is a purpose nonetheless.
Consequently, if we fail to fulfill this purpose, this constitutes sin — a knowing and willful refusal to obey an edict of God.
But let’s pause to consider this for a moment. Intuitively, I’m inclined to view this practice as a transaction. In this model, God pays us salvation in return for serving Him. I do not believe that this is an appropriate framework for understanding the nature of salvation. As I’ve established, we certainly live within a covenant based upon grace. That said, what’s missing in the transactional model?
Love.
Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.
1 John 4:8-12, ESV
We are not “owed” grace.
This passage states that God’s nature is love. Therefore, for him not to love would be inconsistent with His nature — something our all-powerful God cannot do. The fact remains that the Lord continues to bless the world and His people whether they choose to obey him or not. I should note, of course, that God has withdrawn His blessings from groups of people throughout history in order that they might realize their iniquity and return to him.
My point is that both I and my agnostic or atheistic friends are able to partake in the bounty of creation. We’ve clean water, air to breathe, food to eat, and shelter (though each and every one of these is being polluted…but this will be a topic for a later series). In any case, God has blessed and continues to bless all with His love, either directly or indirectly.
That is not to say, however, that there are not many powerful forces working to deprive many people of these blessings. For the purpose of simplicity, I will label this force sin. Operationally, it is what divides us from the Kingdom of Heaven. By examining differences between life as we know it on earth and (authoritative) definitions of heaven, we can deduce its effects.
In Bloomington, Indiana (a somewhat polarized community), people suffer. According to 1999 Census Data, 29.6% of residents have annual incomes below the poverty line. I expect that this is largely due to the size of the student population. However, anyone who has taken a walk down Kirkwood Avenue or passed by the Monroe County Public Library entrance on a cold day is aware that there are a significant number of people who cannot afford heat, shelter, clothing, and perhaps food.
This should not be.
In my experiences working with (absolutely incredible) disadvantaged folk such as these, very rarely do they conform to the lazy, deadbeat, welfare-sucking alcoholic/drug-addicted stereotype that we too-frequently assign to those who wear tattered clothing (not that we bother talking to them anyway). Instead, they are real people. Professors. Veterans. Economists. Entrepreneurs. Homemakers. And for a variety of reasons. Perhaps personal behavior is one. But today, they have been denied opportunities to contribute to society in exchange for income.
Our failure as a community to care for these people represents the paradigmatic failure of the transaction model. Even if it were the model under which we lived, sin prevents the exchange of labor for goods and services. I submit, however, that it is not. I find very little Biblical support for instances in which God behaves like this.
Instead, I find grace.
Throughout history, God has continually engaged in the process of reconciling His fallen people to Himself through this redemptive process. It could not possibly function transactionally; Christ’s actions upon the cross prove that we are unable to offer a sacrifice (or rather, payment) sufficient to satisfy our “debt.” For “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8, ESV).
Indeed, we have been shown grace. But unlike in a transaction, grace does not stop here.
The parable of the Unforgiving Servant found in Matthew 18 explains the proper response. To summarize: A king wishing to settle accounts with his servants forgave the debt of a pleading servant. His debt forgiven, this same servant refused to extend this same grace to one of his debtors. Hearing of this, the king again demanded the debt of the unforgiving servant, throwing him in jail until he could repay what he owed. Christ concludes this parable with the words, “So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart” (v. 35, ESV). Later, in James 2, we’re warned about showing favoritism.
Thus, we have been commanded to extend to others the grace that we have been given indiscriminately. I think that this tells us something about the nature of the Kingdom of Heaven. It is not rooted in greed, capitalism, me-first selfish ambition, or selective love, but in sharing God’s love and blessings with those who have been denied them. Just as our own sin prevented us from enjoying God’s love, He sacrificed His Son in order that we may enjoy this love and its blessings to the fullest. Now, it is our inescapable duty to share this love and its consequent blessings with others. For to withhold the love of God from someone is in complete opposition to the nature of God’s love in the first place! In His economy, hoarding is useless.
I argue that this tradition of sharing and caring in love is the essence of a sense of social justice resulting from a transforming encounter with Jesus Christ . James 1:27 states, “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” Visiting those who have no visitors. Caring for those who cannot care for themselves. Feeding those who do not have food, and helping to find or provide housing to those who do not have a home. This implies that we must also not hoard the blessings we have received for ourselves in greed.
I believe that all deserve heat to survive a cold Indiana winter.
I am convinced that shelter is a fundamental human right.
I believe that children have the right to learn.
I believe that all deserve to be loved.
I believe that all are loved by God.
And I believe that the moment we begin to store up treasures for ourselves here on earth rather than extending this blessing to those who need them so much more than us is an absolute travesty.
I do not mean that we should deny ourselves the enjoyment of the blessings that we have received. I’m certainly not advocating any sort of radical acetism. But I do have a sneaking suspicion that hungry, cold, exhausted families deserve $20 more than I deserve another T-shirt — regardless of whether or not I worked a few hours to earn it.
The moment we as a church cease working to roll back the effects of sin, greed, poverty, pride, hunger, and hate is the moment at which we have failed to fulfill the commission of Christ. This article is written to encourage those who are able to serve (if you have a computer, that’s probably you) to serve. And give. Until it hurts. And then maybe some more. Because there is still suffering and I am still wearing a shirt from the Gap.
This admonishment is as much self-directed as it is anything else. Please understand that I in no way live up to the standard that I am explaining. May God forgive me this transgression as I work toward righting such an egregious wrong. Join me, will you?
What am I going to do?
What are you going to do?
Somehow, saying “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body (James 2:16, ESV) just doesn’t seem like enough any more.
in fear and trembling,
c. scott andreas.
[ look for more soon]
