Ever feel vulnerable and weak like you don't have control over their circumstances? Here are eight blessings to such a state:
1. That sweet feeling of being a feeble child in your Daddy's arms
2. The blessings of walking by faith.
3. The blessed realization that strengths comes from God and not ourselves.
4. The liberating understanding that victory is not contingent on my outstanding preformance.
5. The hunger to seek God in prayer.
6. The deeper appreciation of simple things.
7. The comfort of knowing God is in control.
8. The sharpening of the spiritual senses.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
God Cares About Your Work (Part 2): Created for Labor (Not the Lottery)
“Now we see if I’ll go in tomorrow.” My friend said – only half jesting – as he scratched off one end of the lottery ticket. Disappointedly, he tossed aside the loosing ticket. “I guess I will have to come into work after all.”
This seems to be the pervasive attitude among people today. Work is just something you do until you win the lottery or get Washington to pay your bills. Even many Christians believe that labor is a necessary evil and the result of the Fall. However, the Scriptures would tell us something different. They tell us that work was a part of God’s original, perfect order.
In Genesis 1:28 we read, “God blessed them; and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth.’”
Adam and Eve didn’t just sit in the Garden and admire the flowers. God designed them to be productive, giving them a task to do. Likewise, we see that there seems to be a special emphasis placed on the man working in the Garden: “Then the LORD God took the man and put him into the Garden of Eden to cultivate it and keep it.” (Genesis 2:15)
Men were created to be productive and creative. Some Christians feel guilty because they want to start businesses, climb the corporate latter, fix up their car, do a home improvement project, study art or pursue political advancement. They’re gotten the idea that these things are somehow less spiritual than others. To the contrary, this is what God created you to do!
Adam was made to use his mind and his hands to gain dominion over creation. Likewise, Adam’s sons have always had similar impulses.
While God’s creation was flawless, I believe that He also left it incomplete. In other words, He wanted Adam to take what he’d been given and make it better, more orderly and more useful. Improving what God has given us is an innate part of manhood. Whether it’s our wife, our family, our church, or our broken Ford pickup (if it was a Chevy it wouldn’t be broken), we’re called to better the condition of the things around us.
Thus, if the Bible teaches that we were created to take dominion than Christian men ought to be the most ambitious men alive. We should desire to be the best at what we do, because we’re blessed by God to do exactly that.
But there’s a problem. God’s glorious design of productive manhood had a wrenched thrown into it. Man rebelled against the authority of God and so creation rebelled against the authority of Man. After the Fall, God said to Adam, “Cursed is the ground because of you; In toil you will eat of it all the days of your life. Both thorns and thistles it shall grow for you; and you will eat the plants of the field; by the sweat of your face you will eat bread.” (Genesis 3:17-19)
Now, just like we actively fight God creation now actively fights us. So, no matter how hard you tried you can’t get that pickup to run smoothly, or the garden to grow properly, or that child to behave. Now we find ourselves sweating and laboring just to eke out on existence.
More than that, sin now taints everything that we do. Thus, work that God blessed for the good of mankind is now polluted with greed and selfishness. We’ve turned the blessed gift of God into a means of hurting others and advancing ourselves. Rather than nurturing and improving what we’ve charged with, we abuse, manipulate and use the things in our charge.
But what’s the answer to all this? Should we spot working? Should we suppress that natural desire to gain control and building our little empire? Should the impulses of apathy take control instead?
Some would say yes. They would say that believers shouldn’t try to be the best at what they do because that’s greedy. Well, it certainly can be. We all know of way too many greedy Christians. However, working hard and achieving success isn’t inherently selfish. As we’ll discuss shortly, there’s a way to succeed in a manner that is saturated in benevolence and charity. I’d argue that Christians ought to try to be the best at everything they do to the end that they might glorify God and serve others.
Remember, it wasn’t sin that made work. God made work and sin made it a burden. In the Garden, Adam had God-given power, possessions and pleasure. Thus, pursuing power, possessions and pleasure is not a wicked enterprise. Though, we must be on our guard for our depraved nature corrupts everything we do. However, we can’t refrain from doing something simply because sin might contaminate it. If we were consistent with that principle we couldn’t do anything. Even the most spiritual of activities can become sinful. But I firmly believe that if we, by God’s grace, free our work and “secular” ambitions from sin than it can be a powerful tool in our Father’s hand.
We can be creators without being tyrants; an authority without being authoritarian; a steward without being domineering. Labor is an institution ordained by God and should therefore be carried out with passion and devotion
This seems to be the pervasive attitude among people today. Work is just something you do until you win the lottery or get Washington to pay your bills. Even many Christians believe that labor is a necessary evil and the result of the Fall. However, the Scriptures would tell us something different. They tell us that work was a part of God’s original, perfect order.In Genesis 1:28 we read, “God blessed them; and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth.’”
Adam and Eve didn’t just sit in the Garden and admire the flowers. God designed them to be productive, giving them a task to do. Likewise, we see that there seems to be a special emphasis placed on the man working in the Garden: “Then the LORD God took the man and put him into the Garden of Eden to cultivate it and keep it.” (Genesis 2:15)
Men were created to be productive and creative. Some Christians feel guilty because they want to start businesses, climb the corporate latter, fix up their car, do a home improvement project, study art or pursue political advancement. They’re gotten the idea that these things are somehow less spiritual than others. To the contrary, this is what God created you to do!
Adam was made to use his mind and his hands to gain dominion over creation. Likewise, Adam’s sons have always had similar impulses.
While God’s creation was flawless, I believe that He also left it incomplete. In other words, He wanted Adam to take what he’d been given and make it better, more orderly and more useful. Improving what God has given us is an innate part of manhood. Whether it’s our wife, our family, our church, or our broken Ford pickup (if it was a Chevy it wouldn’t be broken), we’re called to better the condition of the things around us.
Thus, if the Bible teaches that we were created to take dominion than Christian men ought to be the most ambitious men alive. We should desire to be the best at what we do, because we’re blessed by God to do exactly that.
But there’s a problem. God’s glorious design of productive manhood had a wrenched thrown into it. Man rebelled against the authority of God and so creation rebelled against the authority of Man. After the Fall, God said to Adam, “Cursed is the ground because of you; In toil you will eat of it all the days of your life. Both thorns and thistles it shall grow for you; and you will eat the plants of the field; by the sweat of your face you will eat bread.” (Genesis 3:17-19)
Now, just like we actively fight God creation now actively fights us. So, no matter how hard you tried you can’t get that pickup to run smoothly, or the garden to grow properly, or that child to behave. Now we find ourselves sweating and laboring just to eke out on existence.
More than that, sin now taints everything that we do. Thus, work that God blessed for the good of mankind is now polluted with greed and selfishness. We’ve turned the blessed gift of God into a means of hurting others and advancing ourselves. Rather than nurturing and improving what we’ve charged with, we abuse, manipulate and use the things in our charge.
But what’s the answer to all this? Should we spot working? Should we suppress that natural desire to gain control and building our little empire? Should the impulses of apathy take control instead?
Some would say yes. They would say that believers shouldn’t try to be the best at what they do because that’s greedy. Well, it certainly can be. We all know of way too many greedy Christians. However, working hard and achieving success isn’t inherently selfish. As we’ll discuss shortly, there’s a way to succeed in a manner that is saturated in benevolence and charity. I’d argue that Christians ought to try to be the best at everything they do to the end that they might glorify God and serve others.
Remember, it wasn’t sin that made work. God made work and sin made it a burden. In the Garden, Adam had God-given power, possessions and pleasure. Thus, pursuing power, possessions and pleasure is not a wicked enterprise. Though, we must be on our guard for our depraved nature corrupts everything we do. However, we can’t refrain from doing something simply because sin might contaminate it. If we were consistent with that principle we couldn’t do anything. Even the most spiritual of activities can become sinful. But I firmly believe that if we, by God’s grace, free our work and “secular” ambitions from sin than it can be a powerful tool in our Father’s hand.
We can be creators without being tyrants; an authority without being authoritarian; a steward without being domineering. Labor is an institution ordained by God and should therefore be carried out with passion and devotion
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
God Cares About Your Work (Part 1): Martin Luther On Shoemaking
Hot, sweaty and exhausted, I stumbled out of the car. When I had left for work that morning the sun had been rising. Now, the sun had long since set. My body smelt like grim and chemicals. Every part of my body hurt from the long day of physical labor. I limped into my house to find that most of my family was already in bed. Thus, I took a shower, ate some supper and went to bed only to get up repeat the grueling routine.
At the time I was working for a carpet cleaning company. It was very hard work and it forced me to deal with some issues I hadn’t had to confront before. My parents had tried to instill a work ethic in me, but daily chores just didn’t compare to 60 hour work weeks. So I began to wonder, does this even matter? What’s the bigger picture here? Does God really care about dirty carpets?
Our culture says no, God doesn’t care about your daily work. While no one might be bold enough to make that statement, the sentiment is surely there. On the one hand, we in the Church have a false sense of spirituality that states that only pastors and missionaries are really “serving God full time”. This attitude in the church is then amplified by the general sentiment in the world which sees work as a necessary evil that should be done away with in the ideal society.
Laziness is ramped in our society partially because we don’t see work itself as anything important. Work is just something we do to pay the bills and so we’ll only work as hard as we have to in order to live comfortably. And if the government wants to help me pay the bills so I can do even less work than all the better. But this wasn’t always the attitude.
Once the great Reformer Martin Luther was approached by a man who enthusiastically announced that he’d recently received Christ. Wanting desperately to serve the Lord, he asked Luther, “What should I do now?” The implication was that he man was wondering if he should become a minister or a traveling evangelist or maybe even a monk.
Luther asked him, “What is your work now?”
“I’m a shoe maker.” The man responded.
Much to the cobbler’s surprise, Luther replied, “Then make a good shoe and sell it at a fair price.”
Luther and the other Reformers would introduce a startling dogma called the doctrine of vocation. Alongside justification by faith and the sufficiency of the Scriptures, this would become one of the central pillars of Protestantism. Sadly, somewhere along the line we forgot about it.
Theologian J.I. Packer describes the doctrine of vocation this way: “The word vocation means calling and right at the heart of vocation is, I believe, in every case, the sense that God has called one to do what one is doing. The sense of being called comes out of thinking and praying about what one has been gifted and fitted to do and which of the options for life activity is the best one. (Never let the good be the enemy of the best.) Then as one thinks about these things and prays about these things comes the sense that, yes, this is what God’s called me do. And all honest work is worth doing for the glory of God and we may find ourselves called to do any form of honest work that we are fitted for.”
That may not sound like such a big deal, but this little doctrinal point changed the world. If this idea is true than that means that the farmer in the field is just as much called of God as the pastor in the parish and the king in the palace. If that’s the case, people began to reason, then maybe we should start treating the famer with a little more respect. Thus the “Protestant work ethic” would become the basis of free society.
However, this isn’t just a matter of going back to our historic Protestant roots. I firmly believe that the Scriptures would cause us to value work. There is perhaps any number of reasons from the Bible, but in the next few weeks (or maybe months :-P) I’d like to draw your attention to three of them.
At the time I was working for a carpet cleaning company. It was very hard work and it forced me to deal with some issues I hadn’t had to confront before. My parents had tried to instill a work ethic in me, but daily chores just didn’t compare to 60 hour work weeks. So I began to wonder, does this even matter? What’s the bigger picture here? Does God really care about dirty carpets?
Our culture says no, God doesn’t care about your daily work. While no one might be bold enough to make that statement, the sentiment is surely there. On the one hand, we in the Church have a false sense of spirituality that states that only pastors and missionaries are really “serving God full time”. This attitude in the church is then amplified by the general sentiment in the world which sees work as a necessary evil that should be done away with in the ideal society.
Laziness is ramped in our society partially because we don’t see work itself as anything important. Work is just something we do to pay the bills and so we’ll only work as hard as we have to in order to live comfortably. And if the government wants to help me pay the bills so I can do even less work than all the better. But this wasn’t always the attitude.
Once the great Reformer Martin Luther was approached by a man who enthusiastically announced that he’d recently received Christ. Wanting desperately to serve the Lord, he asked Luther, “What should I do now?” The implication was that he man was wondering if he should become a minister or a traveling evangelist or maybe even a monk.
Luther asked him, “What is your work now?”“I’m a shoe maker.” The man responded.
Much to the cobbler’s surprise, Luther replied, “Then make a good shoe and sell it at a fair price.”
Luther and the other Reformers would introduce a startling dogma called the doctrine of vocation. Alongside justification by faith and the sufficiency of the Scriptures, this would become one of the central pillars of Protestantism. Sadly, somewhere along the line we forgot about it.
Theologian J.I. Packer describes the doctrine of vocation this way: “The word vocation means calling and right at the heart of vocation is, I believe, in every case, the sense that God has called one to do what one is doing. The sense of being called comes out of thinking and praying about what one has been gifted and fitted to do and which of the options for life activity is the best one. (Never let the good be the enemy of the best.) Then as one thinks about these things and prays about these things comes the sense that, yes, this is what God’s called me do. And all honest work is worth doing for the glory of God and we may find ourselves called to do any form of honest work that we are fitted for.”
That may not sound like such a big deal, but this little doctrinal point changed the world. If this idea is true than that means that the farmer in the field is just as much called of God as the pastor in the parish and the king in the palace. If that’s the case, people began to reason, then maybe we should start treating the famer with a little more respect. Thus the “Protestant work ethic” would become the basis of free society.
However, this isn’t just a matter of going back to our historic Protestant roots. I firmly believe that the Scriptures would cause us to value work. There is perhaps any number of reasons from the Bible, but in the next few weeks (or maybe months :-P) I’d like to draw your attention to three of them.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Luke 18:11-12 (New Stilwell Satirical Version)
"The publician, standing by himself, prayed thus: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men, legalists, fundamentalists, traditionalists, or even like this Pharisee. I go to the movies twice a week; I support a tax increase on all that the 1% get.'" Luke 18:11-12 (NSSV)
Self-righteousness goes both ways.
Self-righteousness goes both ways.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Butterflies and Growingdown
When did the extraordinary become so ordinary?
I distinctly remember the day when my maturing mind had reached a point where the simple things no longer captivated my attention. I was about ten when one of my siblings came running in from outside, panting and exclaiming over the sighting of a butterfly. Hurriedly, so as not to miss of second of beholding that incarnate wonder called butterfly, my siblings raced outside to take in the six-legged spectacle. And I was left standing in the kitchen wondering what the big deal was.
In five months, I'll be leaving the teenage years forever. I've learned a lot since the day the butterfly ceased to impress me. I've graduated from high school. I'm pursuing higher education. My room is now host to a library that seems to breed like a rabbit. And yet, I feel like the whole thing has been nothing more than a journey to take me back to the place where I marvel at butterflies again. It's as if I'm not growing up so much as I'm growing down.
All my studies and books and projects have led me to a conclusion that seemed self-evident at age six. There's no such thing as "ordinary". All things are beautiful and awe-inspiring because every single thing that exists was created for a cosmic purpose.
C.S. Lewis stated: "Art has no survival value but gives survival value." Human beings are the only creatures who make things simply for the pleasure of making them. The bird makes a nest to keep warm. The ape catches ants with a stick because he's hungry. But human beings building gorgeous cathedrals and painting beautiful paintings and create stirring songs for no other reason than that we get pleasure from them. Where did this irrational artisticness come from?
Speaking of Christ, Paul said that not only were all things created by Him but they were created for Him (Colossians 1:16). Moreover, the Twenty-four Elders in Revelation proclaimed that all things were created for His pleasure (Revelation 4:11). Take a look around you some time. Look at the blades of grass, the grains of sand, the creeping insects, the flying birds, the floating particles of dust. Look at the details, the glamorous markings of a meticulous Artist. All these things were created for the pleasure of Jesus.
Notice His care for the seemingly unimportant things. No one notes nor cares when you smash a bee or kick the sand. But look at the beauty the Artist put into even these insignificant things. These ordinary things. What grand purpose do they have if not to give the Artist pleasure?
Look at every floating speck of dust. To get that tiny speck there are innumerable combinations of molecules which are made up atoms which are made of elections and neutrons and smaller and smaller we go. Scientists keep finding smaller and smaller particles. Trillions of relationships unseen by humans but delightful to God.
Existence itself is just an immeasurable series of distinct persons forming a single substance which than come together to form another single substance. A billion shadows of the Triune Jehovah. Were it not for the existence of an artistic God the universe would be a scary place.
You and I are just snowflakes in a blizzard, unnoticeable amidst a billion other snowflakes. We could melt at any moment and no one would notice the difference. But each snowflake is a unique display of unreplicable beauty that causes the observant heart to soar and fills its Creator with delight.
At the end of the day, getting to be a part of God's blizzard makes being a melting snowflake worth it. We get to be a drop of paint on His canvass; a letter in His novel; a note in His symphony.
Every time we gaze in wonder at what He's made, we are sharing in the pleasures of God. We get to gaze in wonder at the glories of His masterpiece. Like delighted children, we can marvel at the simplest things because they were created for the pleasure of an awesome God. Life is worth it all just to be a part of His beautiful artistry.
When did the ordinary become so extraordinary?
I distinctly remember the day when my maturing mind had reached a point where the simple things no longer captivated my attention. I was about ten when one of my siblings came running in from outside, panting and exclaiming over the sighting of a butterfly. Hurriedly, so as not to miss of second of beholding that incarnate wonder called butterfly, my siblings raced outside to take in the six-legged spectacle. And I was left standing in the kitchen wondering what the big deal was.
In five months, I'll be leaving the teenage years forever. I've learned a lot since the day the butterfly ceased to impress me. I've graduated from high school. I'm pursuing higher education. My room is now host to a library that seems to breed like a rabbit. And yet, I feel like the whole thing has been nothing more than a journey to take me back to the place where I marvel at butterflies again. It's as if I'm not growing up so much as I'm growing down.All my studies and books and projects have led me to a conclusion that seemed self-evident at age six. There's no such thing as "ordinary". All things are beautiful and awe-inspiring because every single thing that exists was created for a cosmic purpose.
C.S. Lewis stated: "Art has no survival value but gives survival value." Human beings are the only creatures who make things simply for the pleasure of making them. The bird makes a nest to keep warm. The ape catches ants with a stick because he's hungry. But human beings building gorgeous cathedrals and painting beautiful paintings and create stirring songs for no other reason than that we get pleasure from them. Where did this irrational artisticness come from?
Speaking of Christ, Paul said that not only were all things created by Him but they were created for Him (Colossians 1:16). Moreover, the Twenty-four Elders in Revelation proclaimed that all things were created for His pleasure (Revelation 4:11). Take a look around you some time. Look at the blades of grass, the grains of sand, the creeping insects, the flying birds, the floating particles of dust. Look at the details, the glamorous markings of a meticulous Artist. All these things were created for the pleasure of Jesus.
Notice His care for the seemingly unimportant things. No one notes nor cares when you smash a bee or kick the sand. But look at the beauty the Artist put into even these insignificant things. These ordinary things. What grand purpose do they have if not to give the Artist pleasure?
Look at every floating speck of dust. To get that tiny speck there are innumerable combinations of molecules which are made up atoms which are made of elections and neutrons and smaller and smaller we go. Scientists keep finding smaller and smaller particles. Trillions of relationships unseen by humans but delightful to God.
Existence itself is just an immeasurable series of distinct persons forming a single substance which than come together to form another single substance. A billion shadows of the Triune Jehovah. Were it not for the existence of an artistic God the universe would be a scary place.
You and I are just snowflakes in a blizzard, unnoticeable amidst a billion other snowflakes. We could melt at any moment and no one would notice the difference. But each snowflake is a unique display of unreplicable beauty that causes the observant heart to soar and fills its Creator with delight.
At the end of the day, getting to be a part of God's blizzard makes being a melting snowflake worth it. We get to be a drop of paint on His canvass; a letter in His novel; a note in His symphony.
Every time we gaze in wonder at what He's made, we are sharing in the pleasures of God. We get to gaze in wonder at the glories of His masterpiece. Like delighted children, we can marvel at the simplest things because they were created for the pleasure of an awesome God. Life is worth it all just to be a part of His beautiful artistry.
When did the ordinary become so extraordinary?
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
I'll Have the Stone with a Side of Serpent
Do you ever have one of those weeks where it's almost feels like the Holy Spirit just got tired of dropping subtle hints and decided to bring out the big guns? Well, this has been one of those weeks for me. There's a particular issue that's real been driven home to me lately.This issue keeps popping up in my devotions, in my reading, in sermons and random videos I run into. Basically, I've been convicted about the fact that my actions doesn't complete match the God I claim to serve. I believe God to be omnipotent, sovereign and almighty. I also believe Him to be kind, generous and benevolent. Yet, it's recently occurred to me that my prayers don't match my beliefs.
Jesus said something very astonishing. In fact, His statement is so earth-shattering that many preachers spend most their time trying to look for the fine print. Christ said,
"Ask and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!" (Matthew 7:7-11)
This is an awesome claim. It describes a generous Father who delights in giving good things to His children. But then I realized something tragic. I have a tendency to ask for serpents and stones because I trust God to handle those. Maybe if I'm feeling really spiritual I'll ask for a Ritz cracker or a little goldfish. But nothing too "ridiculous". After all, I don't want to ask too much from God.
I seem to only ask God for things that I'm pretty well convinced He would do anyway. Rarely will I pray for things that could only happen if God did them. I've realized that I need to make my prayers God-sized. I mean, if I really believe that God is so big and so generous, why don't my prayers match His character? So, why shouldn't I ask for more Christ-likeness? Why should I ask for greater things for my church and family? Why shouldn’t I plead more earnestly for people's souls?
The sad thing is that I just know my Daddy's so very eager to give good things. Isn't that what the passage says? Because God is infinitely powerful and infinitely generous, we can never exhaust the riches of His gifts. There’s nothing I could ask for that is outside of my Father’s limits to give. Oh, that our prayers would better reflect the greatness of our God!
Granted, this doesn't mean that He'll give us anything we want, but He will always give us what's best. Another problem is that we're so carnally minded that we sometimes can't recognize bread when we see it. We ask for serpents and then get upset when He gives us fish.
But my point is that we should be bolder in asking our Daddy for good things. Why should we hesitate to ask for things that only He can give? As Jesus said, even earthly fathers are diligent to give their children the very best that they can. Our Daddy delights giving us good things. Let’s purpose to give Him the delight of hearing us ask for God-size gifts.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
In Praise of Dead Englishmen Who Wrote Fairy Tales
or A Brief Hagiography of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien
G.K. Chesterton said, “Fairy Tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." It's because of this that I have become immeasurably grateful to a couple of dead Englishmen who wrote such fairy tales.
These men, of course, are C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. I'm extremely grateful to these two men because they did what few theologians or preachers have been able to accomplish. Through speculative fiction they used the imagination to unite the heart and the mind. C.S. Lewis spoke of the "disarming" effect that such literature has on people. He should know. Though he wrote many works on theology and reality, he never really came into his own until he wrote a children's book for his goddaughter Lucy.
But for me, Tolkien was really my introduction into such literature. Now, I must confess that I watched Peter Jackson's movies before I read the books. However, I quickly fell in love with Tolkien's style and content. But, for me, The Lord of the Rings is more than just classic literature. It's theology in 3D. An author's work is always an expression of his soul. And Professor Tolkien's worldview comes through bright and clear in his works. I never really understood total depravity until I read about the damning effects of the Ring. Philio love didn't "click" until I was taken by the friendship of Frodo and Sam. Courage and self-sacrifice came to life for me when I first read The Return of the King.
Some Christians will complain about how dark Tolkien's works are. But, it's important to understand what he was getting at. Through the darkness there are always maintained a slim glimmer of hope and those who grabbed onto that hope made it to the other side. Like all good fairy tales, Tolkien showed us that the dragons of a fallen world could be beaten. In The Silmarillion, he says, "Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that come down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid the weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures."
But perhaps the reason I love Tolkien the most is because of the impact he had on Lewis. When Lewis and Tolkien met at Oxford, Lewis was a devote atheist. His mother had died at a young age and he had seen many horrors while fighting in World War I (something Tolkien could relate to). Lewis taught medieval literature and wanted to believe that the Bible was just another myth. But, because of his intellect, he simply couldn't. He knew that there was something about Christianity that didn't match the stuff he lectured students about.
One day, Lewis and Tolkien spent all evening walking around a pond, arguing about the truthfulness of Christ's claims. During the course of the exchange, Tolkien commented that Christianity was the "true myth". For some reason, that phrase spoke to Lewis and by the next day we was, in his own words, a reluctant convert.
I cannot even begin to tell you of the impact Lewis has had on my life. To this day, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is the only book I've finished in a single day (though I love to read, I'm rather slow at it). Again, the ability to put biblical truths in "3D" had a profound impact on me when I was younger.
Lately, I've become fasinated with his other writings. Screwtape Letters, The Four Loves and Mere Christainity are books that, in my not-so-humble opinion, every human being should read. His logical manner of examining truth and wittily then applying it to practical living is phenomenal. Through Lewis, I learned many practical things, such as the nature of humility and chastity.
But perhaps the thing I'm most grateful for is that he taught me that I need never be afraid of truth. Because, to the Christian, Truth is a Person and a Person whose not ashamed to call us brethren (Hebrews 2:10-12). Therefore, we can always go deeper and deeper into Truth and find fulfillment and satisfaction. He brought into profound light that God is the chief end of all things.
And that's why I wrote this piece. Not just to come out of the closet as a fantasy nerd, but to express thankfulness to two dead guys who helped draw me into a deeper relationship with the God of universe in a way that no lecture could.
G.K. Chesterton said, “Fairy Tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." It's because of this that I have become immeasurably grateful to a couple of dead Englishmen who wrote such fairy tales.
These men, of course, are C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. I'm extremely grateful to these two men because they did what few theologians or preachers have been able to accomplish. Through speculative fiction they used the imagination to unite the heart and the mind. C.S. Lewis spoke of the "disarming" effect that such literature has on people. He should know. Though he wrote many works on theology and reality, he never really came into his own until he wrote a children's book for his goddaughter Lucy.
But for me, Tolkien was really my introduction into such literature. Now, I must confess that I watched Peter Jackson's movies before I read the books. However, I quickly fell in love with Tolkien's style and content. But, for me, The Lord of the Rings is more than just classic literature. It's theology in 3D. An author's work is always an expression of his soul. And Professor Tolkien's worldview comes through bright and clear in his works. I never really understood total depravity until I read about the damning effects of the Ring. Philio love didn't "click" until I was taken by the friendship of Frodo and Sam. Courage and self-sacrifice came to life for me when I first read The Return of the King.Some Christians will complain about how dark Tolkien's works are. But, it's important to understand what he was getting at. Through the darkness there are always maintained a slim glimmer of hope and those who grabbed onto that hope made it to the other side. Like all good fairy tales, Tolkien showed us that the dragons of a fallen world could be beaten. In The Silmarillion, he says, "Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that come down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid the weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures."
But perhaps the reason I love Tolkien the most is because of the impact he had on Lewis. When Lewis and Tolkien met at Oxford, Lewis was a devote atheist. His mother had died at a young age and he had seen many horrors while fighting in World War I (something Tolkien could relate to). Lewis taught medieval literature and wanted to believe that the Bible was just another myth. But, because of his intellect, he simply couldn't. He knew that there was something about Christianity that didn't match the stuff he lectured students about.
One day, Lewis and Tolkien spent all evening walking around a pond, arguing about the truthfulness of Christ's claims. During the course of the exchange, Tolkien commented that Christianity was the "true myth". For some reason, that phrase spoke to Lewis and by the next day we was, in his own words, a reluctant convert.
I cannot even begin to tell you of the impact Lewis has had on my life. To this day, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is the only book I've finished in a single day (though I love to read, I'm rather slow at it). Again, the ability to put biblical truths in "3D" had a profound impact on me when I was younger.
Lately, I've become fasinated with his other writings. Screwtape Letters, The Four Loves and Mere Christainity are books that, in my not-so-humble opinion, every human being should read. His logical manner of examining truth and wittily then applying it to practical living is phenomenal. Through Lewis, I learned many practical things, such as the nature of humility and chastity.
But perhaps the thing I'm most grateful for is that he taught me that I need never be afraid of truth. Because, to the Christian, Truth is a Person and a Person whose not ashamed to call us brethren (Hebrews 2:10-12). Therefore, we can always go deeper and deeper into Truth and find fulfillment and satisfaction. He brought into profound light that God is the chief end of all things.
And that's why I wrote this piece. Not just to come out of the closet as a fantasy nerd, but to express thankfulness to two dead guys who helped draw me into a deeper relationship with the God of universe in a way that no lecture could.
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