justindc’s Neighborhood

     The neglect of my blog can be justified by my marriage in July and my subsequent focus on my bride and our burgeoning relationship as man and wife.  Now approaching six months of marriage, I could discuss many things that the Lord has shown me, but one lesson seems so applicable to all areas of life.  I must consider my wife's situation, feelings, history, and many factors when I speak to her.  And she seeks to to the same for me.  We have to be careful what we say to one another. 
     Now, I could talk about communication theory and the importance of a shared world  of ideas and experience in order to communicate effectively.  I could also say that speaking with kindness shields me from negative consequences.  These are valid things to consider when seeking to communicate with a view to the perspective of the hearer, but ultimately it boils down to love.  If I love my wife, if I want to demonstrate that love, I must speak in a way that doesn't just say nice things, but says them in a manner that will allow her to hear the words for what they are.  Many of us know this, and seek to speak with love, kindness and compassion.  We choose our words carefully that we don't hurt our loved ones or promote misunderstanding.  It is obvious for us to love those that love us, but of what benefit (before God) is it to us? (see Luke 6:32) Do we love our neighbors, our enemies in the way we speak to them?
     Unfortunately, I and so many of my Christian brothers and sisters fail to speak the truth in love.  I was recently reading a blog debating the issue of abortion.  I knew it would be heated and I expected some vitriol, especially from those that can't understand a Christian perspective and Christian obedience to God's commandments.  But, I was shocked to see that the debate posts from those claiming to serve Christ were punctuated with name calling, profanity, and all manner of abusive language.  Again, abortion is an important issue that should produce zealous prayer and action, and I acknowledge that many non-Christians will be offended by a stance against it.  But it should be the truth, the gospel that says we serve the risen Christ as Lord, which should be the offense, not the way we state it. 
     Why should we care about how we speak to those who are lost, to those that may even hate Christians?  Simply, because Christ commanded it.  Jesus said, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" (Matt. 5:44).   Yet there is more at stake in our obedience then simply checking off a good deed.  Loving our enemies, with deed, word, and thought, images the very nature of our God, who loved us and sent Jesus to redeem us when we were His enemies. God cares for his Creation, his creatures, and so should we.  Every human being bears the image of God, whoever marred by sin.  Does it not anger God, to have us belittle and disrespect those to whom God gave his very likeness? Of course it does.  Christians argue for the sanctity of life with respect to euthanasia, abortion, stem cell research, and so many areas.  And that is good.  But we can't fail to value our fellow human beings, who are perishing in sin.  If we do, we commit the same sin we are so quick to accuse them of.  Jesus taught that hatred for another is equivalent to murder.  Matthew 5:22 reads, "But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire."  The words are not hyperbole; such is the extent of our sin.  It is only by the lavish grace of God that His judgment is withheld, and that those of us who call on Jesus will be saved from our hatred.  Still, Jesus does not give us the option of hating our enemies if we are to claim Him as our King.  So, how are we to speak, how are we to withstand the false ideas of the world?
     We must start by asking that the Lord changes our hearts towards others, that he creates within us a new heart capable of loving our enemies.  As we seek to grow in Christ and do his work in a lost world, we must be seeking the Spirit's sanctifying power to make us like Jesus who asked God's forgiveness for those that put him upon the cross.  This put's us in the place of truly acting like servants of the Lord.  Paul describes how the Lord's servant (a slightly technical term in Paul, but one that I think we can to apply to ourselves in ministry) is to act, in his second letter to Timothy.  Timothy was pastoring in Ephesus, a city with a reputation for superstition, idolatry and worldliness (see Acts 19).  Even more than that, he faced false teachers that were spreading untruth about the true gospel of Christ.  Yet, Paul did not encourage Timothy into verbal combat with these false teachers.  Rather, he calls Timothy to properly handle Scripture (II Tim. 2:15) and to avoid foolish, ignorant controversies (2:23).  In verses 24 throus 26, Paul writes, " And the Lord's servant  must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil,  correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth,  and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will."  Now, I won't unpack all these verses contain.  But Paul, says that Lord's servant, when facing enemies, must be kind, must be able to teach, and must patient, even patiently enduring evil.  It is God who grants repentance and frees the mind of the sinner from the grasp of Satan.  When you enter into dialog with an opponent of the gospel are you asking that God give you a kind, instructive and patient heart?  Are you praying that they repent?  Am I?
     Communication is more than getting ideas from Point A to Point B.  Communication is a relationship wherein two or more people are connected for the purpose of understanding.  Do we promote understanding when we communicate or do we allow carelessness, pride, or even hatred to color our words?  We should consider our words and seek to understand how they are understood.  This does not mean failing to speak the truth.  We should proclaim the gospel and all it's implications for our life with boldness, being prepared to give a defense for what we believe.  But, it may mean changing the words we use, our tone of voice, or even how much we say instead of listening.  I know how hard this is.  I am praying for God's grace to show me how to do this for the woman I love most in the world.  Yet, if I don't do this when communicating with those who annoy or attack me, I still fail.  I fail to obey Christ, I fail the work he has called us all to, and I fail to live up to the reality that I am a new creature in Christ.   The gospel of Christ is foolishness to the ears of those that are perishing, but let its foolishness be our wholeheartedness in serving a God who would condescend and die for us, to be risen as the first fruits of what is to come.  Let the foolishness of the gospel be in our love for our enemies as we call them to repent and know Christ, our example, our King.
    

What, Lord willing, my kids will be like.  :)

this small town Idaho artist seems to have grown up. I mean, wow!

Check him out! Everyone else seems to have already.

Remember. I knew him before he was cool. Well, in America at least...

recap soon to follow, but for now, delighted to see friend Sarah Demas picked out of the crowd at recent Art-O-Matic, if even in the ever humble blogosphere: read here.

This may seem odd to those of you who know me, but I did not consider myself "white" growing up. Not really at all, until recently.

As a kid growing up overseas, always a minority in a different culture, you might think I would be sensitive to race issues. But my little friends came in every color of the rainbow, and we're not talking upper-middle class all-our-houses-look-identical rainbow, oh no: sleep overs were cross cultural experiences. Heck, my own brother was photo-opposite of me! White-blond hair and blue eyes vs dark-brown hair and eyes? we used to speculate, as little kids will sometimes, whether one of us was adopted; but we could never decided which one. :)  I tanned like a dream, and even my parents used to joke that I looked more like a native than an American.

It wasn't that we were unaware of our color differences, it's just that we didn't understand why they mattered. To my child mind, it never occurred to me that people would dislike each other based on looks alone (I have confirmed this as an adult with my brother; he too felt that way).

When I came back to the States in high-school I was always very tan, and there were always "white" kids around (Chicago-land; go figure). I knew what they were, but I don't think I ever mentally filed myself under an ethnic category. I knew my parents were white; and my brother through his (unfortunate; ask him about the Korea incident, very funny!) blond hair and blue eyes... but I didn't look like them. I learned about racism in History class, which is where I thought racism was: in the past, part of history. A goner. Done. Over. Something my grandmother occasionally did as a consequence of her cultural upbringing (she is very old), but heavens, not something any rational, intelligent person would ever do.

I am ethnically ambiguous, and if I've spent even a few hours in the sun can be (and have been; by nationals mind you, as well as uninformed Americans) mistaken for any number of things: Italian, Egyptian, Hispanic, Spanish, Hawaiian, even mulatto. When lifeguarding in college I won the unofficial "darkest tan" contest among the guards by a mile (I'm even a sunscreen nut); they marveled that my tan-lines were "inter-racial"... their words, not mine. My Kuwaiti friend used to take me around in Bahrain and say "don't speak until I'm done negotiating: they'll never guess you're American with the way you look, unless you talk". Even from a young age I was proud of this cultural chameleon ability I had nothing to do with; it came in very handy.

But a desk job later, I'm not "ethnic" like I used to be; although people still often comment "you look tan, did you go on vacation?" to which I respond "I was born tan" with a big grin. (hey, it's true! I totally get it from my great grandma on my mom's side!)

It wasn't until I moved into DC that I found myself lumped into the "white" category. Here, when accosted on the street with "what you looking at white b!%#?" I looked over my shoulder. When youth yelled across the library "hey white lady?", I didn't think they meant me. Slowly it has dawned on me that, here, Black = "black" (unless, of course, you're actually from somewhere in Africa; then you're ostracized by the Black community, as are pale blacks, as are non-metroDC upper-middle class blacks), and Hispanic = English As A Second Language, and White = Everyone Else.

I'm really, truly not trying to be offensive. It's still a little shocking to me! I am not used to racism and living here is like a crash course on a hundred years of racial upbringing I never had! But that is just my take on the fallout here. Just in case I have offended, please know that I am earnestly growing in my understanding of this city's deep history, and hope to continue to learn and grow.

It is very odd to me to be judged instantly on the color of my skin. I have to force myself not to judge back, because I always though, only mean people (see childish influence) or people who didn't know better would do that. I have to tell myself not to look down on people who are racist against me for being white, which I have as little control over as they have. It is quite novel to be stared at on the bus because I'm the only white woman riding it; I've been stared at before, but not because of that, not in my own culture, not in my own town, not on my daily commute.

And I find myself thinking things when that happens: starting with....
Why are they staring at me? Oh right, I'm "white". Wait.... havent' they seen a white woman before? Come on people, does my presence justify staring? Then again, why am I the only white woman on the bus?

I don't know any of the answers, and I'm guessing this is just the glorious beginning of my foray into racism and history and DC.
And "being white".

Alrighty, I already did a list of things I consider "essential" but there are some items that I use all the time which I personally like but know other people would have no use for. But here they are in no particular order: five fun kitchen items that make my life easier...

1) Wicker Basket (from Target) - We have people over at least once a week and often more, and soon I realized my silverware made an eternal cycle from drawer to table to dishwasher and 'round again. 'Why not cut out a step?' I thought. And so I bought this attractive and super sturdy holder (it's actually plastic which makes it easy to clean). I like the fact that it has four equal-sized slots, instead of the traditional three, so that I can stock the fourth with steak knives, tea spoons, desert forks, even chop stick depending on what is being served (I keep napkins in a separate dispenser).

Utensils sit demurely on the counter most of the week, but are readily accessible when serving groups buffet style, or whisked outside to enjoy frequent patio meals, or easily carried to the table to set for a more fancy dinner party.

2) Baking Stones - You may have seen these pizza shaped or square at overpriced novelty kitchen stores (WS anyone?). I've had one for almost a decade and went ahead and registered for another when I got married in '07. I think they're far superior to any pizza pan, and they make bread just like a dream. I throw all sorts of things on 'em!

3) Silicone Baking Mats - I learned about these when I worked at a cafe and bakery: they're superb! Nothing sticks to them and bakes up just right. I have one that fits my 1" lipped baking sheet, and use it for everything. Clean up is a snap, and delicate foods are saved from destruction. (I have not yet tried other silicon baking items, like muffin or bunt pans, but I do have an extreme-heat resistant pancake flipper that has just the right ratio of springiness and stiffness; very nice and a charming red to boot).

4) Magnetic Things - My husband and I received a bottle opener for our wedding, which seems like such a simple thing, but is really quite wonderful, because it has a magnet in it and "lives" on the front of our fridge. Not that we could ever pick favorites from the overwhelming kindness and generosity of the gifts we received, but I know my husband is particularly fond of that magnetic bottle opener. We're also big fans of magnetic bag clips, the sort useful for keeping chip bags closed. I clip recipes in them when I'm cooking and hang them from the stove hood: out of splatter range, not using up counter space, and in direct eye sight (no scrunching over a book, brushing flower off it going 'does it really say fennel?' ...Of course, doesn't work so well with cook books, but works just dandy with anything loose). And finally: magnets themselves. Not only does our fridge contain photos of friends, but I put my grocery receipts discretely on one side, so I can easily figure out just how old that container of sour cream is at a glance.

5) Pre-set-angle Knife Sharpener - I received some very nice knives from my great aunts, but good knives are only as good as they are maintained. I know how to use a rod sharpener, but I bought this cheapie on a whim two years ago and am never going back! My knives go through tomatoes like hot wire through butter, and I've never cut myself, because I rarely have to use force. I am not concerned that I'm using wrong sharpening technique and damaging my blades either.

6) Kitchen Shears - I have two sets, and perhaps it's because I have no other household scissors (!), but I use these handy babies all day long. They're cheap, they're uber-sturdy, and they do just about anything.   :)

So there you have it! My five, ok, SIX fun kitchen items that I've grown to love and need!

What does a 23 year-old have to say to a congregation of 340 ranging from 2 to 82?  Nothing.  What does the Word of God have to say to them?  Everything.  

            Yesterday, I had the wonderful opportunity and privilege to stand up in the congregation that raised me and open God’s Word with them.  While I have preached a few times cross-culturally in Uganda and as a seminary student in a classroom setting, is an entirely unique thing to proclaim God’s Word before my fiancée, friends, family, teachers, elders, and pastor.   It is a task for the brave of heart and poor in spirit. 

            As I stood at the back of the sanctuary and received the thanks and encouragement of men and women who had known me for 18 years plus, I still didn’t believe it had happened.   I had stood up, read God’s Word, taught from it, and apparently impacted the hearers.  Or had I?  My sermon was of moderate construction and presentation (for one at my stage, but of insignificances in the grand scheme of the wonderful ministry of the Word), but even the most skillfully crafted statement of truth cannot change the hearts of human beings.  Only God can do that and that is the wondrous power of His Word.  Not only was it that God’s Spirit used God’s Word to change impact God’s people.  The very fact that I was able to stand there was due to God’s sovereign use of His word to form His people.

            I had preached on 1Corinthians 12:12-26 which discusses how God has shaped His people, by His Spirit, to be many members united in one body.  With emphasis on the importance of our youth (it being Youth Sunday), I preached on the need to embrace the community God had shaped us to be.  I briefly illustrated that I had received the blessing of my church embracing itself as a community of many members as one body, and embracing my family and I into that community.  Yet, as I have reflected since, I realize that God’s Word and truth had shaped those people.  His truth had transformed them into followers of Jesus.  His Word had guided and shaped them into disciples seeking to be obedient children.  His Word had strengthened them to grow into men and women who fed on the word and then drew others to feed upon it as well.   His Word had shaped the community by which I might be raised up as a follower of the King, and in turn, proclaim the Word back to His people.  What a mighty testimony to the power of God’s Word.  Though I be naught, God’s Word shall not return void

If you have any interest the sermon is available at this link: .Ian's Sermon 6/1/08

Ok friends, I find the desire to blog about my personal life too strong, but the World Wide Web too broad a soapbox to chat about my family and what's happening this week in my life to, so I'm back on VOX.

I will continue to release some posts to the globe at large for any and all to read, but I will be writing more and more "neighborhood" "friends" and "family" posts. If you've not signed up with VOX, I get it, another annoying login to another annoying site.

But I would really love it if you did.  So consider it a personal favor to me: sign up for VOX and continue to read my blog!

Recent and coming "private" posts include:
Stop In And Visit: A Virtual Tour of My Home
Prayer Requests and Upcoming Travels
You Too Can Speculate On My Health Issues!

     To tell you the truth, sometimes, I feel like Spiderman in a Superman world. You see Spider-man has a limited number of gifts and talents.  Don't get me wrong, they're great.  He can climb wall, swing from webs, and that spidey sense is pretty cool. But Superman, well the list goes on and on.  He can leap tall buildings, run as fast as a train, stop a bullet with his pecs, shoot lasers out his eyes and start a tornado just by doing the twist.  And in a world in which Superman exists, well Spiderman is nice, but he doesn't quite cut it.
     Sometimes as I look at the task of ministry, I can't help feel that everyone expects Superman.  Someone entering in the ministry should be devoted to study and sound biblical interpretation.  A pastor should be a superior family man and serve as a relational counselor to his flock. He should be an able administrator and a great team leader. He should preach, counsel, serve, motivate, lead, teach and fund raise  Sometimes these expectations are just felt, but sometimes they are communicated loud and clear.  Sometimes I have heard that a minister of God's Word is to be all of the above, and more. 
     I admit I'm a Spiderman (no offense, I'm a big fan).  I have my gifts, but they are definitely not all of the above.  I mean what's swinging from a web compared to flying?  Sometimes when I look at my skills versus what can be expected I feel a great sense of foreboding.  I'm worried that I'll get into the ministry and people will find out that my pecs don't stop bullets.  I understand.  It is a Superman world.  The Church needs leaders of all sorts of skills to build the churches, proclaim the gospel, and equip the saints. We are seeking to serve as God's vice-regents, to bear his image in his world.  That is a lot of responsibility.  It requires a lot of gifts and skills.
     Yet, as I look around me, I see a lot of Batmen, Aquamen, and Green Arrows.  I see a lot of my brothers and sisters who aren't Supermen.  They have different gifts than I do, but they don't have them all.  Two things come to mind.  First, teamwork.   We are meant to work together as the body of Christ and our diverse skills and giftings are meant to work together to do what God has set before us.  A league of heroes, if you will.  Second, Superman does exist as I said before.  Tim Keller, John Piper?  No and no.  They, we, are just men.  We need a super man to save the world.  In my fretting about my lack of gifts and power, I forget that all that I'm called to do is fully reliant upon the grace and power of Jesus Christ.  It is his ministry I participate in, it is his grace by which I have any gifts at all.  Jesus Christ has already won the battle and in my reliance upon him I don't need to worry about the narrow range of my gifts.  I need to remember that it is not what I do, but what Christ does through me. 

You wouldn't know it from the clothes strewn about my bedroom, but I like precision.  I like to be precise in my word choice. I desire to understand precisely what a person is trying to communicate.  I want to be on target, on topic, and on time.  The same is true for my theology.  I think that my faith in God must be anchored in truths founded in Scripture.  It is irresponsible to me to make sweeping theological generalizations, instead of doing the hard work of searching out God's Word and conforming one's minds to God's truth instead of convenient presupposition.  Perhaps, I sound like a hard man.   Well, I can be, especially with myself.  But my love of precision for what can be known, the responsibility proven therein, grants me a reciprocating freedom.  By seeking to precise in the things God has made clear, I am free to imagine in the realm of things not so clear.
      As with everything else in this world, imagination is a gift from God. I do not claim to have the greatest imagination, or any artistic means of expressing what little I have.  But I do have an appreciation for the spirit of wonder and adventure that dwells within those that do.  And it is most appealing to me when it comes from someone who knows our Creator.  I mean someone who knows the triune God who sent his Son to redeem this world.  I mean someone who knows that they are graciously loved by God, though they are a sinner.  Granted, all sorts of people have wonderfully creative imaginations.  All sorts of fable, fantasy, adventure, and legend come from the imaginations of myriad storytellers.  But the freedom I enjoy is in exploring a world that starts with the seed of Truth and then explores what could be considering the amazing God we have.  Whether it be historical fiction like Wallace's Ben-Hur, fantasy like Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia, or Madeleine L'Engle's science fiction, such works explore what might be, knowing what is.
     Now I don't claim to agree with all of the theological foundations of the above authors.  But I know that they loved the Lord, and that their works flowed from that.  I know that I have enjoyed their explorations of the possibilities based on the realities.  I know that with a firm foundation in what God has truly said about himself and this world, I can let myself bask in the wonder is yet for me to know about our amazing King.
    So, give me precision in theology.  Give me Greek exegesis and grammatico-historical hermeneutics.  Give me mutually sharpening dialog on the nature of the covenant. And then let me think, let me explore, let me muse on the glories of my God.  Let me think this Easter day not only on what I know my savior has done for me, but on what such a loving God is capable of.