The Big 5-0

 FIFTY.

I’m turning FIFTY years old today.

I’m struggling with that number. Not because I feel old, because I don’t. Not because my life isn’t wonderful, because it is.

I’m struggling because at fifty, I know that my years of health and mental productivity are limited. The average life-span for women is mid to late seventies. Which means that I have most likely lived at least two-thirds of my life. And I have SO.MUCH.MORE that I want to accomplish. In fact, at times it feels like I’m just getting started.

I’m not afraid of the end of my life; I know what comes next, and it will be glorious. In fact, some days I long for that to come. I also know that what I want to accomplish in life pales to nearly invisible compared to eternity with Jesus.

But still, there’s so much that I want to do. I’ve always been the “just one more thing before we go” person (it’s amazing I’m on time for anything), so I guess this is on par for who I am.  There will always be one more thing I want to accomplish right up until the moment I see the LORD face to face.

Since I’m struggling so much with this today, I thought I should take a few minutes and reflect on all that I did and experienced in my forties. It’s been a fun stroll down memory lane.

I started my Master of Divinity degree the month before I turned forty. I finished it four years later with a 4.0 GPA and honors (and the designation of being a “Hebrew Jedi”) from my instructors. That’s worth celebrating.

I started what turned out to be a short-lived career as a vocational minister. I loved it, but it was probably the most difficult five years of my life. Then I discovered that I loved teaching and started a new career as a college instructor. While I questioned my decision for months, I have grown tremendously and have no doubts that I’m in the right career.

I celebrated my twentieth and twenty-fifth anniversaries with my husband. This year marks twenty-seven, and we’re still going strong!

I saw all four of my children graduate from high school. They are all amazing humans. Be still, my heart.

I welcomed two daughters-in-law into my heart and into the family. My sons chose well. Weddings are a ton of work, but so much fun.

I met people and built friendships that I know will last a lifetime. And I continued to treasure the friends that were with me in my thirties. You are so loved.

I said, “see you later” to too many friends and loved ones. I have made peace with the river of grief that flows steadily and deeply in my life.

I finished and published my own novel. There are still some things I would change about that experience, but I did it! My husband’s support and encouragement were definitely a large reason I was able to make that happen.

I learned the art of making sourdough bread. I can't say I've mastered it because there's so much more for me to learn, but I can make a pretty yummy sandwich loaf. 

I applied to and was accepted into a Ph.D. program at Fuller Seminary. I’m not completely sure I know what I got myself into…

And so I begin a new decade. Soon I’ll have an empty nest, but I’ll be busy chasing my dream of becoming Dr. Logan. I have no idea what the next ten years will truly hold. I know there will be wonderful things and there will be hard things, and some will be both. I pray God will make more of them than I could ever imagine, that He will find me worthy of the calling He has placed on me, and that He will sustain me through whatever comes.

Here’s to another ten years and beyond.

Worship Matters, The Collective Identity of the Church, Part 2

In my last post, The Collective Identity of the Church, Part 1, I introduced to you the idea that the members of the Christian Church must understand ourselves not as individuals, but each as part of the collective reality of the Church. I emphasized that we must surrender our need for individual identity and validation and adopt instead the collective identity of the church. 

Today I want to connect the claims I made in that post with Biblical evidence of the Church's identity as the particular and set-apart people of God, making connections between the New Testament Church and the Old Testament people of Israel and exploring the imagery of the Church as a Body. I want to help you see the collective nature of our identity, and the importance of living into that collective identity.

1 Peter 2:4-10—The Church and OT Israel

In his first epistle, the Apostle Peter provides a solid foundation for the Church’s understanding of its identity as a collective entity. The recipients of the letter were believers who had been scattered throughout the region of Asia Minor and subjected to various trials and tribulations, and were questioning the Gospel and their inclusion in the Church. Peter wrote in order to establish and affirm these believers' self-understanding as the people of God, with this being the dominant theme of 1 Peter 2:4-10. The believers needed to remember who they were. The imagery used in this text, particularly in verses nine and ten, points back to the collective identity of the Jewish people as the chosen nation of Israel and ties the identity of the Church to the identity of Israel in significant ways.

Peter writes in 1 Peter 2:9: “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” The connection to Exodus 19:5-6 is obvious, even with only a quick glance at the Old Testament text: “Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession. Although the whole earth is mine, you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation…” Any in Peter’s audience who were Jewish in their spiritual and national heritage would have heard those descriptors—chosen people, royal priesthood, holy nation, and special possession—and would have immediately made the association with the Mosaic covenant, with God’s setting apart of the Israelite nation for a particular and holy purpose. Peter’s use of this imagery asserts that “the Christian Church has now inherited the peculiar character and privileges of Israel.”(1)  Namely, they would have understood that the Church as a collective whole was the holy, set-apart people of God. 

Paul's teaching in Galatians chapters three and four reinforces Peter's claim that the Church is the continuation of the people of Israel. In these chapters, Paul describes the Law (i.e., the Mosaic Law) as the “guardian” over the children of Israel, given to provide instruction and training until the time was right for Israel to receive the inheritance as fully adopted sons (and daughters). This adoption was accomplished through the redemption of Christ, and Paul addresses the believers in Galatia as those who have received the inheritance.

In this text, Paul uses imagery of childhood and immaturity. Galatians 4:3 says, “…when we were underage…” or “when we were children,” communicating the idea of an underage person who can’t make decisions for himself or herself because they lack the maturity and the authority to do so. This “minor”—i.e., Israel—was still in need of the supervision and care of the guardian. However, by the redemptive work of Christ, this underage heir was brought into fullness of maturity and with that maturity came the full inheritance of sonship.  This “heir” is now known as the Church.  The essential identity of the people has not changed; it has only grown into its mature realization through the power of Christ.

The Body of Christ

The next piece that needs to be connected is the imagery Paul uses multiple times to depict the New Testament Church, which is that of a body. It is common among Christians to refer to the Church universal as "the body of Christ," and it is not unusual even for an individual congregation to refer to itself as the "local body." It is an image that we are so accustomed to using, though, that I fear we've become blind to what it actually represents.

Paul briefly utilizes the image of a body in reference to the church in his letters to the Romans, Ephesians, and Colossians, but it is in his first letter to the Corinthians that he provides the most detailed application. First Corinthians 12:12-14 reads, “Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink. Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.” The image continues through the end of chapter twelve, discussing the role and value of the distinct aspects of the body, but also reminding the readers that even with those distinctions, the body functions as a whole. 

As a body, the Church as a whole is meant to function as if it is itself an individual, not as a collection of individuals. Dietrich Bonhoeffer calls this the “collective person,”(2)  and describes how this type of community has an identity distinct from the identities of the individuals who form it. The identity of the “collective person” of the Church is two-fold: First, it was and has always been the reality revealed by God.  God created the Church as a communal (a.k.a. collective) reality from the beginning. Second, the Church is specifically identified as the “Body of Christ.” This insinuates much more than membership in a group of people for whom faith in Christ is a common denominator. Bonhoeffer takes the image a step further, claiming that the identity of the “collective person” of the Church is that of Christ himself. “Bonhoeffer asserted that from the sinful individuals who comprise this assembly God forges a new creation that constitutes the collective person, Jesus Christ…Christ existing in the form of church-community.”(3) The identity of the Church, as a “collective person,” is Christ himself revealed in the here and now. 

Paul uses this collective image of the body to represent the Church in order to move believers’ understanding of their own identity away from one of individual autonomy and toward the reality that they are now part of this wonderful and singular identity. Each individual has value and place within the collective body, but that value is intricately connected to their inclusion in the body. Individual identity is secondary to corporate identity.  Paul exhorts believers to recognize that every element of the body is necessary and desired so that no one part is excluded or cut off by another. Wrapped in this message is an exhortation for today’s Church to understand themselves in light of the whole body and to stop acting in ways that inadvertently amputate themselves from it. 

Why It Matters

Maybe you're wondering why this conversation even matters. Why is it so important that Christ followers understand themselves in light of the entire Body rather than as one of the individuals who comprises that body? What's the big deal?

The significance of this conversation lies in the fact that an improper understanding of identity shifts our understanding of the Gospel itself, moving it drastically off-center. An individualistic view of self narrows our view of God's salvation, puts constraints and limitations on His goodness and mercy, and replaces Jesus with "self" as the main character in God's story. 

These repercussions of individualism should be sobering enough on their own, but they produce additional consequences that are just as grievous. When God's people view themselves only as individuals and neglect the collective nature of our identity, we become our own roadblock to fulfilling the purpose and calling of the Church. We become entangled in ourselves and our own affairs, and fail to live out the Good News of Christ in and for the world. We cannot "act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God" if we are primarily focused on ourselves and the way Christ benefits us.

What we believe—about ourselves, about God, and about the Church—matters. 

In my next post, I will explore these implications of individualism more thoroughly and share with you why I am so passionate about shifting our perspective toward a collective mindset.

Until next time, grace and peace to you and yours.

________________________

1. E.G. Selwyn. The First Epistle of St Peter, (New York: Macmillan & Co, 1955), 278.

2. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Sanctorum Communio: A Theological Study of the Sociology of the Church, ed. Clifford J. Green, trans. Reinhard Krauss and Nancy Lukens (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1998), 103-105. 

3. Craig L. Nessan, “What If the Church Really is the Body of Christ?,” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 51, no. 1 (2012): 45.

Worship Matters: The Collective Identity of the Church, Part 1

I know this is my “Philosophy and Faith” blog, but today I want to write just from a “faith” perspective. I want to share something that has been on my heart and mind for quite some time now and that has become a driving force in my faith life as well as my academic life.

A little over a week ago, I received a letter of acceptance into a PhD program at Fuller Theological Seminary. This fall, I plan to begin pursuing a PhD in Theological Studies, focusing on Christian Ethics. Of course, this fits perfectly within the realm of the courses that I currently teach, with Ethics being its own branch of philosophy and one of the more popular classes that I teach each semester. More importantly, this stream of study will allow me to pursue research concerning areas of justice and social justice that have become near and dear to me over the last several years. Specifically, I plan to explore the gap between God’s calling for His people to care for the widows, orphans, foreigners, and the poor and how the Church acts (or fails to act) in those areas on behalf of Christ in today’s American society.

I believe that the Church’s fulfillment of her calling as the Body of Christ begins with a proper understanding of her identity, God’s goodness, and the Gospel of Jesus, and that the living out of her calling begins with worship that flows out of that proper understanding. And the more time I spend worshiping with various evangelical congregations in my area of the country, the more I am convinced that we are missing the mark.

There are many pieces to this conversation, more than I can make space for in one blog post, so bear with me as I build my argument and my theology over the course of several posts.

The first piece: A Collective Identity.

Because the American church is full of American people who were raised to value American ideals, we are really good individualists. We value privacy and independence. We’re a “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” kind of people who don’t need to depend on anyone for anything. Asking for help is not just humbling, it is humiliating and considered only as a last resort. We’re also proud of our achievements and believe credit should be given where credit is due. We want our voices to be heard, and we fight for our worth as individuals.

Yes, we are quite proficient individualists.

Unfortunately, as members of the Church, we were not called to be individualists, but rather we were called to lose our individualism for the sake of the Body of Christ.

Please don’t tune me out.

I am not saying that we are meant to become faceless conformists who lose all sense of individual value and worth. I am saying that we are meant to understand our worth and our identity as part of the collective Body of Christ. The Apostle Paul uses the image of the human body to represent the Church multiple times in his letters, but his description in 1 Corinthians 12 is the most descriptive. In this chapter, he discusses the role and value of the distinct aspects of the body, but also reminds his readers that even with those distinctions, the body functions as a whole.

               Paul uses this collective image of the body to represent the Church in order to move believers’ understanding of their own identity away from one of individual autonomy and toward the reality that they are now part of this wonderful and singular identity. Each individual has value and place within the collective body, but that value is intricately connected to their inclusion in the body. Individual identity is secondary to corporate identity.  Paul exhorts believers to recognize that every element of the body is necessary and desired so that no one part is excluded or cut off by another. Wrapped in this message is an exhortation for today’s Church to understand themselves in light of the whole body and to stop acting in ways that inadvertently amputate themselves from it.

               It is so challenging for us to adopt a collective mindset because the individualist mindset is ingrained in us from birth, it is woven into the fabric of our culture. It feels wrong to relinquish individualism and all that it entails. Who among us has not desired personal validation, a sense of self-worth, and acknowledgement of personal achievement? Who among us has not felt the need to be loved simply for who we are and found comfort in the thought that God provides that personal, relational love? It seems extremely counterintuitive to claim this as false and to abandon wholly any sense of individual place within Christ and the Church. Must the individual identity be cast aside in every sense in order to correctly and completely adopt a collective self-understanding?

               We ask this question because we simply don’t know how to think outside an individualist framework. We don’t know how to operate in any other way. But if we could break free from the confines of individualism, we would find that the value of the individual is found in belonging to the whole. Paul used the imagery of the human body, allow me to use the image of a jigsaw puzzle. A puzzle is only complete when every piece is present, which means each piece is vital. Each piece may have beauty and interest of its own, but it is of little value until it is added to the entire puzzle. Value, then, is found when each piece of the puzzle comes together to form the complete picture contained in the puzzle. This is the collective nature of the Church.

               But why does it matter whether we view ourselves as individuals or as a collective? Does our self-understanding really have that much influence on how we live out our calling as the Church?

               Yes, unequivocally. Our self-understanding has a tremendous influence on how we understand God, the Gospel of Christ, and how we fit into God’s story. And the way we understand those three things determines how we worship, and how we worship directs how we respond to the calling and mission of God.

 

               How we see ourselves matters. How we worship matters.

              

               There is still so much more to talk about concerning the Church’s identity as the particular and set-apart people of God. Next time I’ll dive into 1 Peter and do a comparison between the Church and the people of Israel. From there, I’ll move forward into what it looks like to worship as the collective people of God.

 

Until then, grace and peace to you.

 

Human Dignity and the Image of God

The Enlightenment was a really interesting time in human history. That period produced some fantastic thinkers that shaped history and politics, and whose thinking still have influence today: John Locke, David Hume, Thomas Paine, even Benjamin Franklin. One such thinker that we spend a fair amount of time talking about in my classes is Immanuel Kant.

Kant is probably most well known for his ethical theory which centered around the concept of universal moral principles, otherwise known as the Categorical Imperative. Kant was a firm believer in concrete moral facts and taught that each human had a duty to live according to those moral facts. His was a rigid theory that placed no value in the outcome of one’s actions but located moral value fully in the intention that preceded an act. For the black-and-white, “check the box” type thinker, his was a theory that was actually pretty convenient, as the “dos” and “do-nots” were fairly obvious.

Unfortunately, Kant’s theory left no wiggle-room for situations where doing the “right” thing might cause more harm than not doing it, or for situations where the black and white blurred into a fuzzy shade of gray. Moral facts are moral facts, whether you like them or not, and regardless of the outcome that results in following them.

That’s a pretty tough moral stance to get behind.

But before we throw out the entire theory, there’s one more piece that is worth noting. The second part of Kant’s Categorical Imperative says to treat human beings always as an end and never merely as a means. In other words, remember that people are people, not tools.

Remember that people are meant to be regarded with dignity and respect.

Remember that people are not meant to be used only for your own benefit, but should always been seen for their own worth and value as humans.

In the church we say it this way: remember that every person has been created in the image of God.

Every person.

No matter what color, what nationality, socioeconomic status, gender, orientation, age, size, political affiliation…

Every. Person.

Friends, our world needs to be reminded of this principle. Our culture has forgotten what it means to look at another human and see a person. We look at one another and see disagreement. We see difference. We see opportunity. We see something worth despising. Or manipulating for our own benefit. Or maybe just something that is in the way, an inconvenience.

We have forgotten to see faces. We have forgotten that inside every chest, a heart beats. Inside every skull, a mind turns. Inside every person’s veins, the same red blood runs through. We all love, we all want to be loved. We all celebrate, and we all grieve. We all hope, and we all worry. We are all human.

I encourage my students to remember that behind every frustrating interaction with another human is a real person who is trying to live life just like we are. I encourage them to respond in difficult situations with kindness, treating others with dignity and respect even in their worst moments.

As a Christ-follower, I work daily to remind myself that every human I see, every person I interact with was formed in the image of our Creator, that they—like David—were formed with wonder and care in their mother’s womb (Ps. 139:13-14). It’s so easy to forget and to treat people like they’re worth less simply because they make me uncomfortable, or because I disagree with them, or because something else makes me think they don’t deserve to be treated with dignity. Shame on me.

If I want to always be treated with dignity and respect, I must also treat others always with dignity and respect. So in everything, do to others as you would have them do to you… (Matt. 7:12). In philosophy this is called the “reciprocity principle.” Kant called it a universal maxim, which, ironically, brings us back to the first formulation of his Categorical Imperative.

Kant was not a Christian. In fact, he worked purposefully to develop a moral theory that didn’t rely on religion as its basis. (He was, after all, a good Enlightenment thinker.) His parents were Christian, though, and like it or not, the principles of his parents’ faith made it into his moral thinking. There is certainly much to value in Kant’s perspective, especially when his principles are laid back on the foundation of the real Truth founded in scripture.

We must always treat people as an end and never merely as a means, for every person was created in the image of God. For that reason alone, they deserve our respect and our kindness.

Shalom.

Think First

I’ve been lost in my own thoughts a great deal of late, wrestling with what the media is telling me is happening in the world and in my country, knowing that the media only ever provides a strongly biased report from one angle or another and that I can never really know the truth of what is happening. The only thing I am absolutely sure of is that chaos, anger, and a huge portion of emotionally charged rhetoric has become the status-quo for the American public in the twenty-first century.

It is difficult in the midst of so much noise to distinguish the voice of God.

How do we discern truth from pseudo-truth? How do we filter out the silt in order to find gems? Better yet, how do we know conclusively that we’ve found gold and not fool’s gold?

For some reason, the chorus of the old 80’s song Listen to Your Heart by Roxette has been playing on repeat in my mind for the last couple of weeks. I can guarantee you, the lyrics to that song are not true gold; they do not provide the kind of advice we should rely on as we’re trying to sort through the cacophony of information that accosts us from every angle.

Jeremiah 17:9 is often quoted as a warning against trusting your heart. “The heart is deceitful above all things…” “Heart” in this context, particularly considering the Hebrew concept of personhood, is a reference to much more than just a person’s emotions. Verse ten clarifies the concept when it partners “heart” with a Hebrew word that the NIV has translated as “mind,” but really comes closer to meaning “inner person.” Paired together, we can understand that the innerworkings of a person—both thoughts and emotions—are interconnected rather than disconnected one from the other. So while it’s not 100% false that a person’s emotions shouldn’t necessarily be trusted to lead in decision-making, they are not fully distinct from a person’s thoughts.

So can a person’s thoughts be trusted, either?

Romans 12:2 puts a stronger value on the intellectual aspect of human personhood: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” How do we discern what is truth? Well, it appears that engaging our intellect is a key element of the process.

Here’s where I’m going to bring a little bit of philosophy into the conversation. St. Thomas Aquinas (13^th Century Italian monk) was both a theologian and a philosopher. His greatest theological work, Summa Theologiae, contains no fewer than 3,000 pages, and details his ethical theory known as Natural Law Theory. Part of that theory is the claim that humankind is created with an inherent purpose, or telos, which is to “live according to reason.”

In other words, we were created to be thinkers. To use our brains.

When you go to church, use your intellectual capacity to discern whether what you are hearing aligns with Scripture. But also, use that same intellect to discern whether the lyrics you’re singing have that same theological accuracy and depth. (In other words, don’t turn your brain off when the music starts.)

When you open your social media app and read a post or watch a video, utilize your ability to reason out whether what you are reading and seeing is true, how much bias it might contain, and how it is designed to enflame emotions before you allow yourself to respond or react to it.

When you encounter new information or just a new presentation of information, before you allow your emotions to react, allow your mind to sift through and separate truth from non-truth.

Emotions don’t need to be ignored or completely disregarded, but they definitely should be tempered by intellect.

But now let me give some qualification to this entire conversation. Remember that Jeremiah 17 shows us that at some level, a person’s thoughts are as fallible as his or her emotions.

Let’s go back to Romans 12:2 – “…be transformed by the renewing of your mind…”

While Aquinas taught that humans are created with a natural reasoning capacity and that certain "moral codes” are built into the human makeup, Romans 12:2 tells us that we have to do the work of educating our minds in order to have the framework from which to discern God’s will. Our minds are flooded every day with information, so we have to be purposeful about absorbing and assimilating the right kind of information. If we want to be able to distinguish truth from untruth, we have to know the characteristics of truth; we cannot simply decide from our own thoughts what we believe should be true and what shouldn’t.

Renew your mind. Through reading and study of Scripture. Through listening to trusted teachers of the Word. Through conversations with other believers who are also engaged in the same practices. Through willfully choosing to let your mind be formed in the ways of Christ.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world…” Don’t allow yourself to become a person of empty, emotionally driven, reactive rhetoric.

“…but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…” Do allow your mind, your thought patterns, your worldview, your perspective to be formed by Scripture and by the wisdom of others who are sincerely engaging the Word.

“…Then…” (and only then) “…you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

The Problem of Suffering

Suffering is an undeniable part of the human experience. In philosophy, we equate suffering with evil, which—interestingly enough—is not a concrete connection that I make theologically. The problem with this sort of “evil,” philosophically speaking, is that it is extremely difficult (impossible, even) to reconcile the conflict with the nature of God and the presence of evil in the form of human suffering. How can a God who is all-powerful (omnipotent) and all-good (omnibenevolent) allow suffering to persist, especially in the measure at which it persists in our world?

This conflict between the reality of the human experience and the claim of Judeo-Christian believers regarding the nature of God has been a stumbling block for many people throughout history. I, myself, have been asked, “How can I believe in a God who would allow such things?”

And I’ll be honest: my heart empathizes with those who ask this. I want to cry out to God and say, “You could stop all of this, you know!” It really just doesn’t make any sense.

Philosophers and theologians alike have tried to craft logical solutions to the conflict. We call these solutions “theodicies.” A British religious philosopher by the name of John Hick developed what has become one of the most well-known theodicies over the years: the soul-making theodicy. Simply put, he proposes that human suffering is the tool or framework that provides the necessary conditions for humans to experience spiritual formation, moving them toward the image of God. (His full perspective is certainly more complex than this, but I am attempting to summarize his theodicy without chasing the trail of his full theology.)

Hicks’ theodicy has a number of flaws that I find irreconcilable, but for the sake of brevity, I will discuss only two of them here today:

First, Hick’s view proposes that human suffering is the will and design of God. If it is necessary in order to bring individuals into closer proximity to himself, which is according to his will or desire, then suffering must be by his design. This is incongruous with his benevolent nature. Anyone who has ever witnessed true and deep suffering firsthand understands experientially that to inflict such suffering is not a benevolent act. Indeed, this reality is part of the “problem of evil” in the first place. Hick’s theory does not solve the conflict between the reality of evil and the benevolent nature of God.

I propose instead that God redeems such suffering, reclaiming it from the power of evil and using it for good. James 1:2-4 speaks of the power of trials and tribulations in the formation of one’s faith, and the Apostle Paul’s life and ministry are a testament to the formative value of suffering. But formation comes not from the suffering itself, but from our response to it. Yielded and surrendered to God, even the worst experiences can be redeemed and made holy. (Isaiah 61:3)

Second, suffering was not part of God’s original design for creation. It was introduced as a consequence only after humans made the choice to listen to and believe the voice of someone other than God. The perfection of God’s original creation is detailed in the creation narratives in the first two chapters of Genesis, and suffering—including the first sacrificial death—is introduced in the “fall” narrative in chapter three.

Hick, however, denies a literal interpretation of Genesis 1-3, claiming instead that humans were created as less than perfect with a need for continual progress toward the divine image. Suffering, then, was inherent in creation as the catalyst for that progress. Hick’s view again works against the view of God as omnibenevolent, for if God looked at all of his creation and called it “good,” as described in Genesis 1, and that creation included suffering, then he has called “good” that which is evil. This is in itself a malevolent act, rendering omnibenevolence void.

If God is truly all-good, he cannot have included suffering in his original design for creation.

God did, however, include in his design of humankind the element of free will. The freedom to choose. And in order to have the freedom to choose, there must be options to choose from. He gave humankind two: to choose God, to choose to believe that his instructions were good and that his words were true, which would result in one “consequence” or outcome; or to choose to believe the words of another, who claimed that God was a liar, which would result in an entirely different consequence.

Belief motivates actions, and anyone who has read Genesis 3 knows whose words humankind chose to believe. They chose to believe the “other” and they acted on that belief.

With that one act, the perfection of creation was broken, and it couldn’t be undone. What seemed like one tiny crack shattered the entire reality, and humankind will live with the consequence until the end of time.

That consequence is suffering.

Suffering in the form of disease and sickness and the breakdown of the human body.

Suffering in the form of natural disaster and the breakdown of the natural world.

Suffering in the form of humans hurting and abusing one another and the breakdown of the human soul.

Suffering was not part of God’s design for the world. He created a world of perfection for us, but we chose to trade it away on the chance that he was lying to us.

In his omnipotence, God could remove our suffering, undoubtedly. But part of his goodness to us is his consistent adherence to his word. He promised that to choose to believe a voice other than his would have deep consequences, and now we are living with the consistent application of those consequences.

But in his goodness, God has also entered into our consequences with us—he has entered into our suffering and has not let us suffer alone. (Philippians 2:6-8) He has entered our suffering so that by it, we may be made whole again. (Isaiah 53:5) He has entered our suffering so that suffering itself one day will be abolished. (Revelation 21:1-4)

I know it is so very hard to reconcile the reality of suffering with the concept of a good and powerful God, especially when the suffering is deep and when the evil seems so overwhelming. Most theodicies seem grossly inadequate in the face of true suffering. I don’t pretend to have the perfect answer to the conflict, but I do know that I can’t place the “guilt” of suffering on God’s shoulders. God’s goodness is not nullified by the reality of suffering; it is heightened by his willingness to enter into it with us. Nor does suffering prove him impotent; Jesus’ victory over death and the grave have already proven the power that will be on display when God determines that suffering has had its last word. That day will come, rest assured.

Today I want to leave you with these words from 1 Peter, words of hope written to a group of people who were well-acquainted with suffering:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls. ~ 1 Peter 1: 3-9

The Origin of the Good

Is that which is good made good by God, or does he name “good” that which is already good?

This is a question that my ethics students will have to wrestle with this week. At first glance, maybe it doesn’t seem like a terribly difficult question to answer. But to a philosopher, to a person dealing with logical, deductive arguments, it actually creates quite a conundrum.

Let me back up a minute and set up the framework.

This question is posed within the context of theologically based ethics, or ethics that depend on a theistic religious perspective as the framework for ethical decision making. Religion has been the most relied-upon ethical framework throughout history, so it is a valuable place to start when you’re studying ethics.

Theism typically involves belief in a God that is described using “omni-properties” or what we call “necessary attributes.” The main three that come into the discussion in philosophy are omnipotence (meaning “all-powerful”), omniscience (“all-knowing”) and omnibenevolence (“all-good”). The claim is that in order for God to be God, all three of these necessary attributes must be in place; otherwise, belief in God as a deity is not justified.

In Ethics (a branch of philosophy), the discussion of morality brings into question omnipotence and omnibenevolence. The conflict arises when the origin of morality is questioned.

Here’s the argument:

If God determines what is morally good (“pious”), then he is able to arbitrarily decide to make “good” whatever he chooses. It is within his power (omnipotence) to do so, but can he truly claim to be all-good (omnibenevolent) if he is able to call “good” whatever he wants with no boundaries or constraints?

If God merely names “good” that which was made good outside his power, he does not truly have power over all (omnipotence), for something outside of himself had creative and authoritative power over which he did not rule.

So the argument says that God is either not omnipotent or not omnibenevolent, but to render void either of these attributes is to strip God of his divinity.

And here philosophy is often stumped. The original claim has been shown to be faulty, so the correct response is to reform the claim so that the flaws are addressed and then start again. But how do we fix this claim without changing the very nature of God himself?

Just as a refresher, here’s the original claim: In order for God to be God, he must be omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent.

Can we remove omnipotence or omnibenevolence and still have a God who is trustworthy, approachable, and worthy of worship and devotion? I don’t believe so.

Another option is to simply say that because God is not a created being, he is not bound by the logic of created beings.

Maybe this is not entirely false, but I’m not sure it’s entirely true, either.

What I do think is that philosophy just comes up short. It runs out of answers.

It needs the help of another angle.

It needs theology.

Now, please understand that theologically based ethics and the accompanying dilemma are not limited to any one religion. All theistic religions find themselves faced with this problem. But I’m going to speak to it now from a Christian theological perspective.

I started my post with this question: Is that which is good made good by God, or does he name “good” that which is already good?

My answer to this question is a simple, “Yes.” Because God both creates that which is good and he names it.

That settles the issue of his omnipotence, but it still leaves in question his omnibenevolence. Does God arbitrarily decide what gets to be “good?”

To this I would counter with another question: is the God attested to in scripture one of arbitrary action, standards, and character, or does he display consistency in all of these areas?

The first time we meet God in the Old Testament, we see him acting and naming the outcome of his action as good. This first act was, of course, creation. Not destruction, which we as humans intuitively understand to be “bad,” but creation, which we understand as “good.” His commands for his people consistently upheld the value of life, care for others, and reverence for himself. The things that angered him were the things that devalued life, that took advantage of others, and disregarded himself. He was in no way arbitrary.

We also must understand that the goodness that is inherent in God’s character can beget only goodness. How can one who is “all-good” determine that something contrary to his own nature should be understood as good? To assume not only the possibility but also the actuality is itself an illogical contradiction. (This is actually a philosophical argument based on a theological assumption.)

The dilemma created by the conflict between omnipotence and omnibenevolence was most famously debated in Plato’s Euthyphro, a work that was written in Greece in 5^th Century BCE. This was a time when polytheism was at its height, and the gods were understood more as reflections of imperfect human character than as divine perfection. It would have been expected for a “deity” to be inconsistent and contradictory in his or her actions and responses to humans. The consistent and faithful character of Yahweh would have been a difficult concept for someone in Plato’s culture to accept.

The God of the Bible, however, is not a reflection of human character, but the perfect form or pattern of what humans were intended to be. (Plato would have appreciated that analogy.) God is consistent ~ Malachi 3:6. His character is not contradictory, and he does not act in ways that are contradictory ~Hebrews 13:8. Therefore, we can trust him to be consistently good ~ James 1:17.

This dilemma in ethics is one place where philosophy and theology don’t seem to get along with each other well. But when you take a closer look, it becomes apparent that philosophy actually needs theology in order to answer the question completely. Without theology, philosophy is left without satisfactory answers. Even Euthyphro ends without coming to any real resolution. But when invited to the conversation, theology fills the gap and brings about a quite logical response (in my opinion) to this difficult dilemma.

A Love Of Wisdom

 "Philosophy."

A combination of the Greek words philos (love) and sophia (wisdom), that together mean “the love of wisdom.”

I think philosophy gets a bad rap as this circular, never-ending, cerebral conversation that doesn’t ever really yield results but only ends up creating more questions than it answers. Most people, I think, see philosophy as a waste of time, or—at best—reserved only for the most intellectual of individuals. Normally, when I tell people that I teach philosophy, I am greeted with wide eyes and a simple, “OH” in response. People aren’t quite sure what to make of me, and they usually find a way to move the conversation in a different direction pretty quickly.

But philosophy is just a pursuit of knowledge and understanding. Knowledge on its own is just facts. But understanding those facts and knowing what to do with them, knowing what they mean… now we’re beginning to form wisdom.

Philosophy chases after that by asking questions. Lots and lots of questions. (You can thank Socrates for that.)

One of my favorite aspects of philosophy is that just when you think you’ve got things figured out, someone turns the model a little bit and you end up with a completely new perspective. Everything looks different and you have to start analyzing the information all over again. In other words, there is always a new way to look at life, and no one—and I mean NO ONE—has a 100% correct or complete perspective on anything.

That was a humbling thing for this black-and-white thinker to discover.

But oh, the color it added to my world!

Learning to see things from new perspectives and new angles added so much depth to my understanding of life, of the world, of people. And even of God. When I let go of my need for everything to fit within the constraints of my black-and-white world, God was able to teach me so very much.

And the more I learn, the more I want to learn.

Proverbs 9:10 tells us that the fear (reverence) of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding (which in Hebrew is just another way of saying “wisdom”).

Romans 12:2 instructs Christians to let their whole being (i.e. heart, soul, mind, strength) be transformed by the changing (renewing) of their minds (their way of thinking).

Let’s put some of these pieces together. Philosophical thinking leans hard on deductive reasoning, so let’s see if I can put this together in the form of a deductive argument.

(For reference, P=Premise, C=Conclusion)

P1: Wisdom begins by revering and knowing God.
+
P2: A person can be thoroughly changed, made new, by changing the way he or she thinks.
+
P3: Philosophy is an intellectual pursuit of knowledge and wisdom.
_________________________________________________________

C: Philosophical pursuits that begin from a place of Godly fear and reverence can transform a person into one of Godly wisdom.

 

I get that this is extremely simplified, but what I want you to see is that philosophy as a discipline is really a wonderful thing, especially when partnered with theology. Granted, left on its own, philosophy can take some very strange paths that lead away from godly wisdom. As God-fearing people, all thought needs to be submitted to the authority of the Holy Spirit and to scripture (2 Corinthians 10:5), and when it doesn’t align it needs to be refuted or abandoned, but the process of philosophy (the discipline) is absolutely one that Christians should be engaging. Not only will it allow us to live a richer and more abundant life, but it will give us deeper insight into the heart and mind of God and teach us how to interact with and respond to the world more like Christ.

Philosophy is definitely not just for intellects and it’s not something Christians should be afraid of. Philosophy is for everyone, Christians included. Let’s be people who love wisdom, knowing that true wisdom begins with a deep reverence for the God who created all and knows all. Let’s pursue knowledge and wisdom and allow it to transform us into people who look more and more like our Savior every day.

A Prayer For My Fellow Educators

 My husband and I are both educators. He teaches vocal music to high school, middle school (bless him), and elementary school students, and I teach mostly young adults at the local community college. His spring semester started last week; mine starts tomorrow. Last week, I sat and wrote out this prayer with the two of us and our colleagues in mind, and I decided today to share it here. It is truly my prayer for us and our friends as we pour ourselves out for our students over the next five months.

LORD God in Heaven, hallowed be Your Name
    In our our classrooms, our offices,
    the hallways, gymnasiums
    and wherever else we meet our
    students, colleagues, and community members.

May Your Name be treated as holy and sacred
    In how we speak,
    how we act toward others,
    how we respond under pressure,
    and especially in how we love our students.
    May You be seen in us.

You have entrusted us with the hearts and minds of these young people.
    May we take seriously the work of
    forming, protecting, growing, challenging,
    and especially loving them.
    Even the ones who are sometimes hard to love.
    Even the ones who fight us at every turn
    and make us question our calling.

Remind us, LORD, that there is almost always more to the story
    than what we can see.
    Remind us to be patient
    and to watch and listen for that story.

Remind us, LORD, that our job is to teach people
    more than it is to teach content,
    and while our students need to pass tests
    and write papers,
    what we really want is for them to learn
    to be good people.
    Kind. Thoughtful. Hardworking.
    Honest and filled with integrity.
    Humble. Merciful.
    May they learn to be these things by watching us.
    May our students see these traits in us
    every day.

LORD, we do also have to teach our students content.
    Help us to do so with passion
    that draws them in and gets them excited about learning.
    Help us to teach with skill,
    presenting our material in ways
    that our students can comprehend.
    Help us to teach with energy.
    Our students deserve teachers who make learning
    fun and engaging.
    And help us to love what we're doing,
    even on the hard days. I think that's when we need You
    to remind us - again - that we are teaching 
    people, not content.

And LORD, make our work fruitful.
    Let us see growth in our students,
    academically, socially, emotionally,
    and even spiritually.
    Help us to see that our work is not wasted
    or in vain, but that it is producing good things.

LORD, you have called us to this profession.
    Equip us,
    Empower us,
    Sustain us in the days ahead.
    Join us in our classrooms as we join You
    in the work You have placed before us.
    And may we work each day
    knowing it is not for ourselves that we strive,
    but for You
    and in Your Name.

Amen. 

A New Year, A New Purpose

Today marks the beginning of a new calendar year. January 1. New Year’s Day. A day traditionally characterized by plans for the days to come, hopes for improvements in life and health habits, for new determinations to live fully and make the most of each moment. As such, I thought I would start my year of blogging by delving into an area of philosophy that I normally save for the end of each semester: the meaning of life.

What is the meaning of life, and how do we find it?

This seems like the quintessential philosophical question, the one that everyone asks but for which no one ever expects a legitimate answer. But believe it or not, philosophy does have various approaches to discovering the meaning of life.

Of course, there are some philosophers who think the inquiry is pointless because life has no meaning and cannot be given meaning. (Thank you, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche.) Many others have pointed toward personal achievement—be it intellectual, creative, or even moral—or community involvement as the location of life’s meaning. Still others locate meaning in love, relationships, and connection with other human individuals.

I ask my students every semester to tell me all the things that make life really good, the things that, at the end of the day, make you settle back into your pillow and say to yourself, “Today was a really wonderful day.” It’s always great fun to hear their answers and write them on the board, and things like family, fulfilling work, friends, and fun normally make the list. And good food. That one ALWAYS makes the list.

Are these the things that give life meaning? Is it really that simple?

I just finished reading Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. Frankl was an Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist who survived four different concentration camps in Nazi Germany during World War II. Frankl found that humankind has a deep need for purpose in life. One of Schopenhauer’s arguments against the reality of meaning in life was the fact that the human experience is riddled with suffering. He’s not wrong; suffering is quite unavoidable on this earth. But Frankl found that if a person has purpose in his life, he also has meaning for it, and even the greatest suffering can be redeemed. Throughout his book, as he recounted his experiences in the concentration camps, Frankl often quoted Nietzsche: “He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.” (Ironic, coming from a man who didn’t really believe life has meaning.)

I did notice something in Frankl’s teaching about purpose and meaning that he never explicitly called attention to, and maybe he never fully grasped it himself: for a person’s “why” to offer true purpose and meaning for his or her life, it must be directed outside of self. A “why” that is only aimed toward personal satisfaction or glorification will always come up short, it will always leave you empty-handed.

Faith Meets Philosophy

This is where I bring faith into the conversation, and I allow God to speak to the reality of a person’s purpose in life. But don’t tune me out just yet; I think you might be surprised by where I land.

If you’re like me, you’ve heard this conversation before, and the answer always seems to circle back around to this: The purpose of a Christ-follower’s life is to glorify/praise/worship God.

I get it. We should glorify him. We should praise him with our very breath. We should worship him at every turn. But is our God really that self-focused? Is his entire purpose self-glorification?

That seems pretty shallow to me, and not much like the God whose story is told throughout the scriptures. The God in whose image you and I were crafted.

Instead, let’s look in the sixth chapter of the book written by the prophet Micah. In that chapter, Micah responds to God’s description of the way he has faithfully loved his chosen people even through their betrayal and unfaithfulness. He says, “What should I bring before my good and faithful God, burnt offerings? A thousand of them? Maybe my firstborn? Would that be enough?” But then he acknowledges, “No! That’s not what God wants! Instead, he wants us to live with the righteousness of his own character: with mercy, justice, and humility.”

Throughout the Old Testament, God urges his people to act with mercy, justice, and humility on behalf of those among them who are unable to act on their own behalf. Those people are often represented as the orphans, widows, and foreigners, and sometimes as the poor. These are people whom society has cast aside, forgotten, or deemed “less than.” These are people who don’t have the means to provide for themselves and have very little ability to meet their own needs.

Jesus said it this way: “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” (Matthew 25:40)

I believe our purpose as followers of Christ—Immanuel, God With Us—is to “act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God” by standing up for and acting on behalf of those who cannot stand for themselves. And when we live fully into that purpose, I believe we will find meaning for our lives that far exceeds the meaning that any career, achievement, creation, or even a relationship has to offer.

Schopenhauer was not wrong in that life is fraught with suffering. But he was completely wrong about the presence of meaning, for a life aimed at relieving the suffering of others is rich with meaning beyond measure.

I pray that in 2026, you and I will both find ways, big and small, to live into our God-given purpose of pursuing mercy and justice in His name for those whom the world has shoved aside, and may we (with humility) enjoy the contentment and peace that comes from living a life full of divine meaning.

Are Faith and Philosophy Compatible?

 

I am an instructor of Philosophy at a community college in central Kansas. I am also a lover of Christian Theology and—first and foremost—of God. In the short time that I have been teaching Philosophy, I have learned that it is not uncommon for people (Christians, mostly) to see the two disciplines as incompatible, opponents, even. I have had students question more than once how I, as a believer in Christ, can with good conscience teach Philosophy and Ethics at a secular institution.

I happen to believe that Philosophy and Theology work hand-in-hand quite beautifully (for the most part). Of course, there are times when the two must part ways, and there are certainly times when Philosophy simply runs out of logical answers. (And there are times when some philosophies seem to have abandoned logical thought altogether, but that’s another topic for another day!) Those are often the times when Theology steps in and gracefully completes the picture. Not because Theology doesn’t depend on logic—be quite assured of the opposite. Understand, however, that it is not human logic upon which Theology stands, but logic that transcends that of the human mind. And yet, because He is good and kind and merciful, and has placed Himself as one of us, God wraps His God-logic in ideas that the human mind is able to grasp if one is willing to believe that they are possible.

This is called faith.

Not blind belief or suspension of all logical thinking, but a willingness to believe that something different, something higher, is possible.

My hope with this blog is to explore some of the concepts of Philosophy from a theological perspective, looking at them through a lens of Christian faith. Philosophy as a discipline is not evil, it is not corrupt, it is simply the pursuit of wisdom. The word itself means, “the love of wisdom.” Yes, Colossians chapter two warns against allowing your mind to be taken captive by philosophy and deceitful thought. Take heed to this warning and submit each philosophical idea to the authority of the Holy Spirit. Allow Him to root out true wisdom from empty ideas but also trust that God as the Giver of All that is Good has given humankind much intellectual insight that is worth exploring.

Romans chapter two tells us that we can be transformed by the renewing of our minds. The partnering of philosophical and theological studies will allow us to do just that. It will require effort, an open mind, and a depth of humility, but in the end, I believe the pursuit will be well worth the payoff.

Grad School Gratitude

Hello, friends. It's been four years or so since I've stopped by my blog to do a little writing. That's because I've been working hard to complete a Master of Divinity degree from Abilene Christian University, an endeavor that left little time for my own writing. I had the honor of walking across the stage in Wildcat Stadium on the campus of ACU this evening to receive my degree, and I'm ready to get back to sharing my heart through this blog. And I want to start with a post of gratitude for many of the people who helped me successfully complete my life-changing journey through grad school.

A little over four years ago, I asked my husband to pray with me, to discern whether grad school was a good option for me. When we agreed that it was something I should do, I jumped in with both feet and experienced God's confirmation of our decision time after time. Several months later, I was elbow-deep in study and loving it.

Dr. Mindi Thompson, who has since become a dear friend, gave me my first perfect score on a major assignment, which was then followed by the same from Dr. Curt Niccum. (I blame them for my drive for perfection for the next three and a half years!) They taught me many things that first summer about the literature of the Bible and about how to interpret it well, but they also taught me that I was a capable, that I was intelligent, and that I had the grit and determination to tackle grad school with excellence. Dr. Wes Crawford honed my writing skills and made me believe that I had true ability. Dr. Paavo Tucker encouraged me to relax the expectations I had of myself, to give myself permission to "miss a dot and tittle" every now and then (he was my first Hebrew prof), because expecting constant perfection was no way to be an effective minister. Dr. Tim Sensing encouraged me to be creative with my approach to ministry, knowing that it is a challenging field for a woman to enter. I could go on and on about each of my professors who invested in me, believed in me, encouraged me, challenged me, and made me a better person, Christ-follower and minister. I owe so very much to them.

And then there are the friends I made along the way. Women like Kerri and Nancy who inspire me and make me so glad to have studied alongside them and that I get to call them friends even though we all live in different states. Women who have cried with me, prayed with me, celebrated with me. I will love them always.

But really more than anything, I owe a deep debt of gratitude to some very important people a little closer to home. 

 

To my husband, Scott, and my children: Thank you. Thank you for the thousand different ways you supported me through this experience. Thank you for cheering me on, listening to me ramble on about whatever subject I was studying (Scott particularly loved it when I talked about St. Ignatius of Loyola... 😂), helping me practice Hebrew and Greek vocabulary, letting me hide away on paper-writing or test-taking days, and sacrificing time and attention that should have been yours but went to my studies instead. You have been my biggest cheerleaders - especially you, Scott - and I couldn't have finished without your support.

And then there's my friend and mentor, Daren, without whom I never would've even thought about grad school. He saw possibility in me long before anyone else did, and he invested so much time and heart into forming me into a person who was worthy of God's calling into ministry. And now I have the privilege of working alongside both him and our friend Kevin as we pour ourselves out on behalf of the Crossroads CC congregation. I couldn't ask for a better team of pastors to work with, and they both have encouraged and supported me in countless ways.  Daren: thank you for seeing my potential, for pushing me to think harder and feel deeper, to love and be loved more than I thought possible, and to see people through the eyes of Jesus. Kevin: thank you for your constant encouragement and for seeing the best in me. Thank you for your leadership and your always-open door.

Today was a bittersweet day, as I took my family on a tour of campus and watched them enjoy the campus of ACU almost as much as I did. My heart ached just a little to know that I probably won't be back to study within those walls, at least not in the foreseeable future. And then the ceremonies that had to happen online instead of in person because Covid-19 happened. I got to see the beautiful faces of so many that I had studied with at some point during the last four years, but there were no hugs, no shoulder-to-shoulder as we celebrated together. I felt the sweetness of hearing that my instructors chose to honor me with a leadership award because they saw strength and promise in who I am and the kind of minister I am becoming, but again... no handshakes, no embracing the women and men who helped me grow into who I am.

But the day ended with that glorious - and sweltering hot - experience of the graduation. Of actually walking across the stage, hearing my name spoken and seeing my picture on the jumbo-tron, and finally being able to say I have a master's degree. There were some loved ones who couldn't make the trip to Abilene, and they were sorely missed, but the ones who could come made it the most special of experiences for me. It was a sticky-hot evening, but it was good, and it was one that will be long remembered with fondness. 

 

I know that to some, finishing grad school doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but friends let me tell you: these last four years have changed me. They have formed me in countless ways. They were four of the most difficult, exhausting, exciting, and full years I have ever experienced. I can't say that I loved every minute, or even every class, but I wouldn't trade a moment of it. I'm so very grateful that God called me into this journey, that He led me to ACU, and that he sustained me through the process. 

And I am so excited to wake up tomorrow, and the next day, and - God willing - the next, and see what new journey He has mapped out for me now.

God so loved the world...that He gave us Christmas

Jesus is the reason for the season. Yes, that statement is absolutely true. In the middle of all the business of the Christmas season, it’s so important to keep reminding ourselves that Jesus is what it’s all about. Family is important. Generosity is important. Loving one another is absolutely important. But even in the middle of all of that really great, important stuff stands The One who is the Most Important of all. 

Jesus.

The Christ.

The Messiah.

I understand why we Christians have our mantras like Keep Christ in Christmas and Jesus is the reason for the season. But I think even these catchphrases fail to really capture the depth of what Christmas is all about. They’re good reminders that Christmas isn’t about the commercialism that the world throws at us, or even the good deeds that we focus so much more intently on during the Christmas season than we do the rest of the year. But they skim along the surface of the truth of Christmas without plunging the depths of what God did in and through the Advent.

Do you realize that of all the things God created, it was only to humankind that he gave his very own breath? Only we were created to be like him. Only we were created to walk with him in the garden in the cool of the morning. Oh, we are so loved and so privileged among all the creatures of the earth! 

And yet, we chose something other than him. We chose – and continue to choose – ourselves. And from that first moment when humanity chose to explore the less-than instead of trusting God’s best, God put in motion his plan to bring us back into perfect relationship with himself. That plan came into fullness when he gave himself to walk among us in flesh. 

God himself, in the person of Jesus Christ, stepped out of the throne room of heaven and into the brokenness of earth. 

No other god has done that. No other god would dare subject himself to that sort of humility. 

But ours did. And he did it in order to repair the brokenness that we caused. 

God did this great thing because he loves those whom he created. He loves us with a kind of love that I’m not convinced we can fully understand in our broken human condition. It is a love so deep that even living and dying as a human fully rejected by the world was not too high a price to pay to bring us back to himself. 

Friends, it is my prayer this Christmas that you will spend some time soaking in the truth of Jesus. I pray you will let yourself be overwhelmed by the love and goodness that God poured out for you in the giving of himself. I pray that the depth of love that God has for you will be an anchor for your life in the year and years ahead. 

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. ~ John 3:16