Saturday, October 9, 2010

Car for sale (no longer!)

UPDATE: October 14 - sold! Thanks to all who expressed interest!

2005 Toyota RAV4

60,600 miles
Single owner, well maintained (have maintenance record), has never required any engine repair or body work
Front-wheel drive, automatic transmission

The back seats can also be removed, and there is a luggage cover that can hide anything in the back from an outside view.



Standard features, including:
--Dual air bags
--ABS, traction control
--Power steering
--Power windows, power locks
--Remote keyless entry
--Cruise control, tilt wheel
--A/C
--Single-disc CD, cassette, AM/FM
Additional feature - Toyota "sport package" pedals





Rated for 29 MPG highway, 24 MPG city

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Jeremiah 29:11

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

I think I'm about to step on some toes.

Jeremiah 29:11, the verse quoted above, is a popular line among certain Christians. Some people take it as their "life verse," others quote it to help through hard times, and there are even entire ministries that take the verse as their name. It's an encouraging sentiment - the idea that God has secure plans for each of us in life, and they're good plans, plans that can give us rest.

The problem is, that's not quite true.

We have at least two good reasons to reject it. First, life experience shows us otherwise. Life doesn't work out like that for everybody. Many people follow God with all they are and all they have, but their lives are full of harm and lacking prosperity. Second, the Bible rejects this kind of reasoning. You don't even have to leave the book of Jeremiah - the prophet himself followed the Lord into the miserable life of a misanthrope, and he talked all about it.

But why am I subjecting you to this rant? I just sound like a killjoy. What's the point? Well, some of us experience the good life, where things go our way time and again, and we start to associate our good life with God. We think, since God loves me, he will give me a good life, and that's why things are going so well. Then, something awful or tragic hits us, and we don't know how to handle it. Who knows how we will respond? Some have decided to leave God behind altogether under such pressure. That's the thing - bad theology can be dangerous.

So what's going on in this passage? The first thing to remember is, the books of the Bible were not written to you. They were written to a variety of peoples who lived 2000-3000 years ago in a variety of circumstances. Yes, they were inspired by the same God who loves you and who is active in your life; yes, there are certain commonalities between all people everywhere. These similarities make it possible to learn something about our relationship with God in the 21st century. The Bible is absolutely for our benefit... but it was not written to us.

To whom was this word written? The Lord was speaking through Jeremiah to the Hebrew people in exile. Among other things in the larger prophetic passage that includes our verse in question, Yahweh mentions that it was he who carried them into exile. He discourages the people from listening to the sweet promises of those religious people afflicted with the disease of false optimism in God's name. The promise to prosper and not harm is spoken to a community of people, not to any individuals within the community. It was God's greater purpose to bring the Hebrew people back from exile after seventy years, because he still had a plan for them in redemptive history. Anyone who was an adult at the time these words were spoken would have been confident they would not live to the end of those seventy years - they would die in exile. God had promised to bless the world through them, and he had to uphold them as a community to make good on that promise. There would still be plenty of individuals and families who would live and die, prosper and suffer, survive and thrive. (As an important aside, we see clearly that most lines in Scripture lose their original meaning when you take them out of context.)

What does this passage show us about God? His greater purpose in redemptive history will never fail. We now know that includes Jesus, and through Jesus, that includes us. God went to great lengths to prepare the way for the coming of the Messiah, and God our Savior went through crucifixion and separation from the Father to make a way for you and me to know God's intimate presence. That's powerful, beautiful, and awe-inspiring. What else do we learn? Again, we see there is no guarantee that God has comfortable plans for any of his individual followers. He carried the Jews into exile, both the faithful and the unfaithful, and about two generations died there. God's love for you does not automatically lead to prosperity.

What else can we take for ourselves in this passage? God is the kind of God who wants his people to have hope. He does want his people to prosper, and he wants to give us a future. We have no promise of those things now, but we do know they will be ours in Christ when he returns to this earth. Whether or not we prosper now, we will prosper in the coming kingdom of God. That is our hope and our future, fulfilled perhaps long after we die, no matter how comfortable or uncomfortable our circumstances in the meantime.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Art and heartache

Madrid is known for three world-class art museums - the Prado, the Thyssen, and the Reina Sofia. Meggan and I had the opportunity to visit the Prado and the Reina Sofia in 2008, and we generally enjoyed those visits. However, there were moments at the Reina Sofia when we felt a bit out of our aesthetic sensibilities. To put it bluntly, some modern art is just a little too "weird" for us. One memory we often chuckle about was from a room in the museum where we couldn't quite appreciate an artist's genius in a large canvas (over 4'x6') painted plain white with a line and some dots.We weren't being obnoxious, but another woman in the room noticed our general lack of enthusiasm, and she looked straight at us, scowled, and gave us a disapproving shake of her head. We got culturally scolded!

We're not the only ones to have had similar experiences. Some "art" doesn't seem like art to everybody. However, at the Reina Sofia, it never occurred to me to consider a different kind of response to this sort of work: sympathy. One of our seminary professors called this to my attention with his blog post on Lady Gaga. Some "strange" art is the cry of an aching soul to squeeze some sort of meaning out of a painful existence.

Consider the painting above, "Landscape," by Joan Miró. Miró was 83 years old when he created it. Have you spent time with a variety of 83-year-olds lately? Some of them are still spry and very lucid; others show distinct signs of breaking down. Perhaps the woman disapproved of our response to the paintings because it betrayed an inherent lack of understanding for the challenges aging can bring. Walking the Reina Sofia you get to see the progression of some artists' work from the beginning of their careers into their last years of creating. The next time I walk the Reina Sofia, I'll be on the lookout for this very human phenomenon, and others like it. Salvador Dalí features prominently in the Reina Sofia. Now THERE'S a tortured soul for you. Lord, let his art be an opportunity for me to understand what people are going through every day in this broken world.

Requoting Francis Schaeffer, from our professor's blog:

These paintings, these poems and these demonstrations which we have been talking bout are the expression of men who are struggling with their appalling lostness. Dare we laugh at such things? Dare we feel superior when we view their tortured expressions in their art? Christians should stop laughing and take such men seriously. Then we shall have the right to speak again to our generation. These men are dying while they live, yet where is our compassion for them? There is nothing more ugly than an orthodoxy without understanding or without compassion.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Saying goodbye to stuff


Today we're packing up a decent load of our material possessions. Tom and Becca Whitney are buying much of our furniture for their first apartment together, and tomorrow is the pick-up day. It's incredibly convenient to have buyers for these nice things that we have to unload, and we're truly thankful for that!

It's also sad for us.


Physical things carry memories with them. I've woken up next to this nightstand for five years or so. It's held an alarm clock, water bottles, books, passports, a lamp - useful stuff that has played a role in God's myriad of blessings in our lives. Getting rid of it all also makes our continuing transition away from life here that much more tangible. We're leaving; it's real. There have been tears this morning. I'm glad these things will continue to be used to bless others, and I know we have to let them go in order to move on to the next step God has for us. And, it's good to recall, it's just stuff! Still, there's a slice of us that laments today.

Two devotional thoughts on the theme: "Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies..."
and, second, physical things and remembrance: "This is my body, given for you; do this in remembrance of me."

Friday, July 23, 2010

Prayer request - visa stress

Lord willing, Meggan, Andrew, and I will apply for our visas at the Spanish consulate in Chicago on August 6. In the meantime, we're gathering the decent-sized portfolio of paperwork necessary to make that possible. There's a lot of red tape to cut through, and if we don't have just the right stuff, we could be turned away. I would love it if things went smoothly, but I would also love it if I could just handle myself smoothly. Below is what I recently wrote to our field leader in Spain, Dan:

I'm not sure why, but something about my personality makes the visa application process one of the most stressful parts of getting ready to come to Spain. Raising support... downsizing our personal possessions... saying goodbye to friends and family... I'm mostly handling those with grace, self-control, and healthy emotions. This? I get nervous, worrisome, and short-tempered, and I feel like the process controls me rather than me having self-control in the midst of the process. Prayers appreciated. (And thanks for listening.)

Monday, June 14, 2010

Jesus the lifeguard?

I ran into this intriguing quotation on a friend's blog. What do you think?

The New Testament proclaims an unlikely Savior. The work of Jesus in his incarnation, life, passion, death, resurrection, and ascension makes no worldly sense at all. The portrait the Gospels paint is that of a lifeguard who leaps into the surf, swims to the drowning girl, and then, instead of doing a cross-chest carry, drowns with her, revives three days later, and walks off the beach with assurances that everything including the apparently still-dead girl, is hunky-dory.

(Originally from a book by Robert Farrar Copan.)

Friday, June 11, 2010

Our June 2010 email newsletter

Hey there - we've just jumped back into the world of email updates. Here's our latest newsletter. If you'd like to get them sent directly to you in the future, click here to subscribe.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Youth ministry in Spain: another missionary's reflections

What follows is an excerpt from a blog post written last October by Dan, our field leader in Madrid. Almost a decade ago, he and his wife, Eva, spent some time as leaders for the youth group at a church called La Elipa. Here he answers "Where Are They Now?" for the youth who were part of the group at that time. This shows a glimpse of why we are excited to work with youth. Read and enjoy!

The current youth group at La Elipa

Andy was always a committed believer even from before we ever met him. He went on to marry the daughter of a well-respected missionary. He went to Bible school and then on to a masters program that is related to Ravi Zacharias ministries. He now lives with his wife and two kids in Granada were he is leading an apologetics ministry for "Agape" (Campus Crusade). The Lord is using him and his wife on university campuses all over Spain.

Pablo has been very involved with summer outreach campaigns and has become a gifted preacher at La Elipa. He is particularly effective in communicating with the younger generations. He and his wife are leading a small group ministry for the older "jóvenes" (25-35) from our church and other churches as well.

Alex has also been very involved with summer campaigns and camps. He is gifted in leading music and leads the worship time at La Elipa from time to time. When he is not at La Elipa he is often helping lead music at other churches or ministries. He is also quite involved with united youth events.

Chema has gone on to be a manager for Christian music groups and artists. He has organized many concerts and has been quite successful in getting Christian artists into secular venues. Chema currently is working with a ministry that is part of Agape that consists in working with Christian musicians and also in reaching out to non-Christian musicians and groups. He is also very involved with youth and music on a national level.

Andrés was the son of an elder who had some medical problems. A valve inserted at the base of his brain when he was a baby became infected when he was about 19. This infection led to his loosing all sight. His family lives in England now (his mother is English). He has had a ministry online to other blind people as well as chatting with others all over the world. I've not heard much about him in the last few years.

Eugenio and Luna... I mention these two together as they recently got married. Both were in our youth group. Eugenio and Luna have been very active with the Sunday School program and with summer camps, Christmas programs and summer campaigns. [NOTE: Meggan and I know Eugenio and Luna! We worked together with them at La Elipa's children's summer camp in the summer of 2008. They weren't yet married at the time. We're excited for the possibility of being "couple friends" when we return!]

Ismael was pretty young and just starting in the youth group when we left. Today he leads the worship ministry at La Elipa and is very involved with another ministry with youth at a church in San Fernando. There he is preaching quite often as well as leading worship.

Carolina was a leader in the group when we were with them. She has always been very responsible and influential with the other youth. She married a very fine young man from Zaragoza who is career military. They live in Zaragoza now and have a one-year-old baby with very a severe disability (I don't remember what it is called, but part of Samuel's brain never formed). Carolina is Alex's older sister. They also have a younger sister who came some to our group. Since then she has left the church and I don't know where she is spiritually.

Sarah and Israel are brother and sister and the children of one of the elders (now an elder at a different church). Sarah never accepted Christ and even when she came to the group always made it clear that she was not a believer. Israel did accept Christ but about the time we were ending our involvement in the group he ran away from home and became very rebellious. He got into all kinds of stuff in the years that followed. He came back to the Lord some years later and has been involved with ministering with drug addicts at rehab centers.

Kevin is Andy's younger brother. He fell away from the faith some years after we left and has never returned. We are still praying that some day he will come back.

The reason that I mention these "jóvenes" is to illustrate how a little involvement at a crucial period of a young person's life can have a far-reaching impact years and even decades later. I think that working with jóvenes from as young as 12-15 or even up to their mid- to late-thirties can have a profound impact on the local church and on the communities that they in turn will later impact.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Fresh reflections on John 4

The story from John's gospel of Jesus with a Samaritan woman at a well has long been a favorite of mine. Like the parable of the prodigal son, it's one of those gospel stories that amazes and inspires on first reading, then gets richer and even more incredible when you delve into its literary and historical-cultural context. We learn so much about God's heart and about ourselves in this story. But reading it recently, it didn't feel like a favorite anymore. It's not an encounter I found particularly inspiring this time, and I'll tell you why.

I don't like the Samaritan woman.

Apparently it's been over a year since I've read this story, because the Samaritan woman's situation took me by surprise. I was appreciating the story up through verse 16, but then Jesus startled me with her place in life. "You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true."

Suddenly I found myself feeling like one of the other women in town, the women avoided by going to the well at the hottest time of day. This Samaritan woman deserved to be socially ostracized - she is dangerous. When you've been with at least six men, and you're currently living with one out of wedlock, the collateral damage of your broken relationships spreads to every nook and cranny of your small town (and in that day, they were all small towns). The women who wouldn't socialize with her were possibly all related to men she had been with - uncles, cousins, brothers, sons, or maybe even husbands. Whereas the Samaritan woman had always seemed like a victim of her social circumstances to me in previous readings, now I can't help but see her as the incarnation of the adulteress warned of multiple times in the book of Proverbs.

Slightly removed from the initial shock of this new view on the woman at the well, what can I say about this? Who indeed is the woman? And what does it mean that Jesus approached her with love and truth?

First, who was she? Was she a victim of lifelong abuse from a young age, who kept getting stuck in abusive relationships, who may have been widowed a couple times, who just needed some roof for protection in a patriarchal culture, who was unfairly cast aside by the other women in town? Or was she spoiled, a poisonous personality, a gold-digger, always seeking a new man to conquer sexually and financially, using and abusing the people around her, only looking out for her own good, leaving a trail of wreckage behind her wherever she went? . . . We don't know. The text doesn't tell us. The point is, she could be either one. We can't take comfort in the fact that Jesus would only reach out to people who fit our moral sensibilities.

The fact is, she was probably a bit of both of those caricatures. That's the thing - real people don't fit in the skin of their Disney prototypes. Every innocent victim has a narcissistic streak, and every rotten apple has been a victim along the way. Jesus sees it all in each of us: every bit of our junk that's not our fault, and every time we play the victim card when we're actually the perpetrators. The same goes for the people who have left us as the wreckage in their wake. He knows that they are even more despicable than we understand, and also that they're more deeply wounded than we can fathom. He moves toward people who society casts out, even when society has good reasons for that judgment.

The reason the Samaritan woman is a hero in the text is not because of her colorful past; it's because of her response. She opens herself to God's redeeming love. It doesn't matter if you're an eagle scout or a gangsta, Mother Theresa or Lady Gaga - you can humbly accept God's love and grace, or you can pridefully try to stand on your own two feet.

He moves toward you. You don't fit God's moral sensibilities. But he loves you. Respond to his love with humility, awe, and restful acceptance. Then extend his love to others; go love your "enemy" today, wherever you may encounter such a person. Find a slice of sympathy for that person, even as you acknowledge you're with a real jerk.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Holiday

This week Meggan, Andrew, and I are in eastern Tennessee, enjoying some quality time with Rick, Lynn, and John. We're staying in a secluded log home with a gorgeous view. Weekly activities include exploring the Smokies, a couple days at Dollywood, card and board games, laughs, baby play, music, stories, meals, and soaking in the general Southern charm.

Here in the U.S., we typically call this a "vacation" - we vacate the premises of our everyday routines, and we try to vacate our regular concerns from our minds. In Britain, people go on "holiday" – a break in the routine is afforded by national and religious holidays, such that the typical time to get away like this has taken the name of holiday, even if you’re going during an ordinary week. Still, in its original meaning, a holiday is not about taking a trip; it’s a holy day, sacred, set apart.

This week is not really a vacation for us. It’s a holiday, in the older sense of the word.

There is no general occasion that the outside world observes that makes this week holy in any manner. Even within the family, there’s nothing special about late April. (Well… that’s not precisely true – Rick and Lynn’s 30th anniversary was a week ago! But this isn’t an anniversary trip, per se.) This trip is sacred because of where it fits in the rhythm of our lives. Our first little one is here, and he's worth savoring. Our transition to Spain is just a few months away, at which point the opportunity for family time will shrink dramatically. This is a unique season, and it calls for us to respond in intentional family togetherness.

Are we away from many of our regular responsibilities and goings-on this week? Yes. Yet even more than this, the week plays a highly significant role within the journey God has for us. This is a true family holiday, and we are blessed to be able to celebrate.