We had a very interesting discussion at our community group last night about the subject of God’s will and opposition.  Often in Christian circles, you’ll hear people throw around the terminology of “open” and “closed” doors.  When everything seems to fall into place, we take that as an “open door” and decide that it must be God’s will.  When we meet resistance at every turn, we call it a “closed door,”  and decide that God must not want us to pursue whatever it is.  I’ve used that language myself countless times in the past, and the idea behind it isn’t necessarily always wrong.  However, we discussed the fact that very often when we are following God, resistance and opposition will come in many ways.  Rather than meaning something is a “closed door,” Scripture actually points out that the fact that we’re meeting resistance often indicates that we’re actually on the right track.

Yet, how do you know when to work through opposition and when God may be leading you in a different direction?  If we were to get five years into our church plant and had a weekly attendance of five people, we’d likely conclude that it might be time to rethink the whole thing, and probably for good reason.  However, we’ve all heard the stories about missionaries that headed overseas and went years before their first convert only to see a great harvest down the line.  So how do we know when God’s telling us to stop and when he’s telling us to fight harder?

We had some great discussions, mostly centering on viewing the nature of the difficulty and our response to it.  Is this difficult endeavor driving me to sin or causing me to fall short of the requirements in 1 Timothy 3 or Titus 1 – including not leading my family well?  If so, then that’s a sign that it’s time to back off ministerially and get your own house in order.  We also discussed the fact that God gives us wisdom in each circumstance to discern how we can best honor him.  Sometimes, that’s by changing directions ministerially.  Other times, it’s by charging forward in the midst of difficulty.  One thing’s for certain, though – God is continuing to teach me more and more about what it means to seek his will.  Sometimes, the path of obedience is shown by God opening a door.  But sometimes, it’s shown by God slamming a really big, tough door in our faces – and then handing us a sledgehammer.

What do the two have in common?  Check out this excellent article by Doug Wilson to find out.

In my time following Christ, I’ve taken just about every approach to devotional Bible reading imaginable.  Through the Bible in a year?  Check.  Chronological plan?  Done that too.  I’ve done chapter-a-day, three-chapters-a-day, devotional guides, and all the rest, and I can truly say that there is value to be found in each.  For the past couple months, though, I’ve tried something that I hadn’t done before, and that at first glance sounds a bit off – I’m intentionally reading less. 

Now before you rake me over the spiritual coals, let me explain.  Since the new year, I’ve been reading the book of Luke, since it’s the gospel I’m probably the least familiar with.  Every time I sit down to read, I read until I see a thematic break in what Luke is communicating.  Sometimes that means I’m reading half a chapter, sometimes it means I’m reading just a few verses, but what it forces me to do every time is to look for one central idea that is being communicated through Jesus’ words and actions.  Once I’ve read and found that idea, I spend the rest of the day meditating on it.  I think through it from every angle I can.  I apply it to various areas of my life, looking for areas in which I need to come more in line with what God is teaching me through his word.  Sometimes I’ll flesh my thoughts out into a blog post, which really helps me to put meat on the bones of my ideas. 

I’ve found the process to be tremendously rewarding.  As I’ve slowed down, I find myself seeing things and making connections in familiar Scriptures that I’d just breezed over before.  Focusing on smaller chunks of Scripture and seeking just one big truth has helped me to focus more closely on individual truths and really grow in my application of Scripture.  Rather than peppering my brain with low-impact Bible buckshot, I’ve felt like God’s been going in with surgical precision to illuminate areas in which I need to grow.  If you feel like your reading of Scripture has become dry and routine, you might just want to try slowing down a bit and mining for gold that you’ve previously glossed over.  After all, reading 20 chapters of Scripture in a day is worthless if you aren’t retaining anything from it, if it’s not actually shaping your thinking and your living.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad that I’ve read through the Bible in a year before.  But right now, I’m definitely finding that in this season of my life, less is more.  Whatever your reading habits are, the important question is this – what are you doing with what you’re reading?

I had a bit of a double-take moment watching the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl Sunday night.  Colts kicker Matt Stover had just pushed a big 51-yard field goal a couple feet wide left, when the camera caught him turning and pointing both index fingers skyward in that “glory-to-God” motion that it seems you see all the time from athletes after a big play.  My first thought was oh, man – he doesn’t realize he missed it.  It was just then that announcer Jim Nantz explained “Matt Stover, a deeply spiritual man, does that every time – make or miss.”

In sports, like in all of life, it’s easy to acknnowledge God after a big victory.  But praising God after missing a crucial field goal in a one-point game in the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl?  That, you don’t see so often.  Here’s what Stover had to say in a 2003 interview with Baptist Press…

“Through my career I have to first and foremost honor Him,” Stover said. “It’s not about me, it’s about Him. When I point up I’m giving thanks — not only when I get a field goal but also when I miss one. It’s life’s trials that make you grow the most, not the good times.”

That kind of attitude demonstrates a mature faith.  Just ask Job, who came through unimaginable suffering only to remark about God, “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear,but now my eye sees you.”  The same God that is sovereign over our best moments is also firmly at the wheel when it seems the wheels have fallen off.  He is deserving of our praise just the same in those moments, because we can trust his promise that he is working all things for our good.  Matt Stover reminds himself of that reality by pointing to the sky in the triumphs and disappointments of his football career.  Let his example be a reminder to you as well.

I’m not asking that question about your theology.  I’m quite sure that most of you reading this who take the Bible seriously would answer a quick yes.  I’m asking about how your theology practically works itself out into your living.  Twice in the course of the past week, I’ve had church-planting mentors impress upon me and the rest of our team the importance of taking seriously the reality of the spiritual stakes in what we’re about to undertake.  As planters, we will be pushing the gospel forward into places where it hasn’t been and into lives that haven’t believed it.  That will put us on the front lines of the battle, spiritually speaking, and it will draw the attention and retribution of the enemy.  Both our mentors recounted personal stories of suffering and opposition that they and their families encountered along their planting journeys that ranged from sobering to downright creepy.

To say the conversations were much-needed for us all, and for me especially, would be an understatement.  Sure, I know that there are demons, that there is a spiritual reality that goes beyond what we see every day.  I’ve got my theology pretty well in order, thank you very much.  The problem, I realized, is that I just didn’t believe much of it.  On a real, practical, gritty level, I didn’t believe these things I said I believed.  There are a couple reasons for this.  For one, in a way I think seminary intellectual-ed it out of me, largely.  After all, when you’re spending time ruminating on the details of old-earth creationism or the intricacies of eschatological systems, the notion of real angels and demons just seems so infantile, so childish.  The even bigger reason, I think, is that I really don’t want to be one of the crazy charlatans on TV running around bashing people on the foreheads to get the demons out and hopefully procure a nice donation to fund their private jets.  I want to be as far away from that guy as I can get, and so, as is human nature, in the reactionary process I’ve ended up running too far in the opposite direction.   Whatever the reasoning, though, the end result was a giant heap of unbelief I’d weakly attempted to intellectually justify.

Christianity, however, isn’t an intellectual exercise.   This isn’t a game.  The same Jesus who I trust rose from the dead and procured my salvation tended to take demons fairly seriously.  The same Holy Spirit who I praise for convicting my heart of sin inspired Peter to describe Satan as a very real person “roaming around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”  What God convicted me about most deeply this week is that when I disbelieve the reality of the spiritual realm, whether mentally or practically, I am really disbelieving him, since his word speaks plainly about not only the reality of this realm, but the absolute necessity of preparing ourselves to survive what we’ll find there.  As my friend Dan encouraged us last night to be on our guard – while maintaining a healthy and wise discernment – my heart was shaken to the core with the seriousness of the mission God is sending us on.  However, it was made even more resolute in the knowledge that our faith is in a very real God who has made very real promises about the very real power that we have received to overcome darkness through Jesus Christ.  It’s refocused me as a husband, father and pastor.  It’s the best wake-up call I could have had, and I’d ask you to consider if it’s one that perhaps, just perhaps, you might need too.

Doug Wilson has been writing a bit lately on the topic of the morality of food.  He’s got an especially helpful post up today about how the history of what we consume should (or rather shouldn’t) affect our conscience.  It’s well thought out, and a good principle that is relevant far beyond the dinner table.  Go check it out.

Mark Driscoll posted today reflecting on the 14-year anniversary of Mars Hill Church.  This article was such an encouragement to me.  One of the most discouraging and intimidating things about preparing for church planting has been seeing so many incredible churches and thinking, “There is no way we can do that.”  As I read Driscoll’s look back at the Mars Hill’s humble beginnings, I was reminded that, quite frankly, no one can “do that.”  God alone can, and the same God who has been with Mark Driscoll through 14 years will be with us when we head out to plant.

HT: Vitamin Z

After watching the Wilson/Hitchens film Collision over the weekend, I’ve enjoyed reading the recent exchange between Christian blogger Tim Challies and atheist blogger Luke Muehlhauser.  Both have been good discussions with very different styles.  While Wilson and Hitchens’ debates were marked by their acerbic senses of humor, Challies and Muehlhauser are both soft-spoken and cordial.  Both types of personalities are needed in good debate, as they often bring out different sides to the issues.  You can find Challies’ most recent post here, and from there you can find your way to the previous letters from both sides.

Tim Challies wrote some good post-Christmas reflections over the weekend dealing with how explicitly Christian our family Christmas traditions are.  He echoes some feelings that I’ve felt myself and was really helpful in helping me think through some things.  My family experience growing up was much like his in that we didn’t do many explicitly Christian things on Christmas day.  That’s not to say at all that Christ’s birth wasn’t paramount in our minds, because it surely was.  It’s just that a Christmas Day in our house was mainly about family traditions (watching It’s a Wonderful Life was an annual rite) and togetherness and presents on Christmas morning.  I don’t remember reading the story of Christ’s birth every year or any explicitly Christo-centric traditions, but I also remember that Christmas in our house came with an ever present awareness of what was truly being celebrated.

Now that I’m married with a little girl of my own, I’ve thought a lot more lately about what I want my family’s Christmas traditions to look like.  I’ve thought a lot about how to lead my family at Christmas and I’ve wrestled with a bit of the guilt that Challies writes about in his piece, but I found his thoughts and advice really helpful in trying to understand Christmas rightly.  Christmas shouldn’t be a pagan shrine to the altar of materialism, but it’s not something that we’re commanded as Christians to observe either.  I’ve never thought of Christmas falling under Paul’s admonition about days in Romans 14, but it absolutely does – and as such, it leaves the door open for us to observe (or not) it in many different ways.  The question thus becomes, “How can I live this day, like every day, to the glory of God?”  I think I’ll have a good perspective when the holidays roll around again next year, and hopefully I’ll use them to help my family glorify Christ on Christmas – and the other 364 days a year we celebrate Christ’s birth.

As promised, here are a few theological/worldview aspects to James Cameron’s Avatar that I’ve found interesting since seeing it Saturday night.  You can read my full review of the film here.  Be warned – some of this will necessitate discussion of a few plot points, so consider this your SPOILER ALERT if you haven’t already seen the movie.

1. The film is pretty transparent with its environmental message, and I get the feeling that will rub a lot of Christians the wrong way.  However, as my friend Adam pointed out as we were leaving the theater, the irony is that Christians actually have good reason to be “green,” while the naturalists and humanists usually pushing the agenda don’t.  After all, we believe that creation is declaring the glory of God, so it would follow that we would try to avoid cutting out its vocal chords as much as possible.  I think the reason we usually chafe at anything that might appear “treehuggerish” is because it usually comes wrapped in pantheism (as it does here) or left-wing politics.  With that in mind, I think it’s time to start approaching environmentalism like the church is starting to approach the arts.  It’s very trendy right now to seek to “take back” the arts – understanding their role from a biblical perspective and striving for God-honoring excellence.  We need Christian minds to begin to do the same with environmental issues instead of just debating global warming talking points.
2. Speaking of pantheism, it’s certainly the worldview of choice in Avatar…until it’s not.  The Na’vi worship a deity called Eywa, who is described as their mother, permeating their world and upholding the balance of all life.  Toss in Simba and Elton John and we’d be in full Circle of Life mode.  This is hardly new territory for Hollywood, as any good Jedi knows.  It’s easy to understand why our culture is fascinated with eastern mysticism – it’s tolerant, very user-friendly, and comes with a great deal of mystery and allure.  It’s the perfect American religion – until you start to think about it too much.  That’s what happens in Avatar.  Jake, the main character, clumsily and nervously prays to Eywa before a major battle, asking for help in the fight to come.  Neytiri, his Na’vi mate, informs him that Eywa does not take sides but simply maintains balance in the world.  Jake is visibly disappointed, and the audience is too, but hey, at least Cameron had the courage to stick to his guns and be consistent in his pantheistic worldview.  After all, a pantheistic force doesn’t care who wins or loses, it doesn’t hear prayers and it doesn’t send help – it simply is.  It’s impersonal and transcendent.  However, as the battle turns south and all seems lost, the wildlife of Pandora roars to the Na’vi’s aid, with Neytiri happily proclaiming that Eywa has heard Jake’s prayer.  Apparently, Eywa decided being a force wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be and opted to change into a personal deity so we could get a happy ending.  We westerners love the idea of eastern mysticism, but we don’t like to think about it too much, lest we find an uncaring life-force at the center where we want our personal god to be.  Our culture, through its Judeo-Christian heritage, has at least tasted of the true and living God – and once that happens, nothing else quite cuts the mustard anymore. 
3. Last but not least, I found Avatar to be not just a lot of fun, but a worshipful experience as well.  Now, before you go removing the heretic from your RSS feed, hear me out.  As the climactic battle got underway and the onscreen spectacle ratcheted up to 11, I found myself in abject wonder at James Cameron’s imagination and creativity.  It was like nothing I had ever seen onscreen before – the world, the creatures, the effects, the beauty of the whole thing.  And immediately, I considered this: Pandora in all its digital glory isn’t even a drop in the ocean compared to the imagination and creativity of our God who spoke the world into existence out of nothing.  In fact, James Cameron’s abilities and vision are merely reflections of the creator in whose image he’s made.  As a creature of Yahweh, he’s (unwittingly, from all I know of Cameron) glorifying his maker by being like him in his creativity.  I sat, marveling at the greatness of a mere reflection and it served as a reminder of just how great the true spectacle of this world is and what an amazing mind its director possesses.  After all, he trumped Avatar and didn’t even have the $300 million budget.  He even gave us the very tools (the created world and our own minds) to use and manipulate in order to imagine a variation of that world in the digital realm.  I believe if we’re going to be about engaging culture through the arts (and we absolutely should), then we better do it right.  Art is a channel for marveling at the creativity of other people in such a way that our minds are drawn to the infinite creativity and beauty of our creator.  Whether that happens through notes and chords, paintings, or an IMAX 3D trip to Pandora, the aim is the same.  If you’re going to movies seeking mindless entertainment rather than avenues for worship, you’re missing the point entirely. 

Seen the movie and have other things to add?  Let me know in the comments.