Reformation Week Pt. 2

Martin Luther showed the world that a humble man can also be a passionate, zealous one. Christians can wield words like swords and persuade men with the courage of their convictions. He was not without sin, but he who is loved much is forgiven much. And I do love Martin Luther.

In a time when he seemed to be in the vortex of a storm that threatened to destroy the Church, Luther never backed down. He was sure of what he believed, but he had personal, encouraging words for his friend who wavered with the heart of a diplomat. Melanchthon lacked Luther's zeal. He was of a more practical bent... I think he was probably more like me (with pounds more wisdom and intelligence!), with a bit of time and experience having mellowed his youthful zeal, causing him to appreciate and value flexibility and productivity. Perhaps, like me, he had begun to calculate the cost more often than he used to. The voices around him were maybe beginning to confuse and distract him from the purity of the gospel.

But not so, Luther. In the year 1521, he wrote to his friend:

"If you are a preacher of Grace, then preach a true, not a fictitious grace; if grace is true, you must bear a true and not a fictitious sin. God does not save people who are only fictitious sinners.

Be a sinner and sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly. For he is victorious over sin, death, and the world.

As long as we are here we have to sin. This life in not the dwelling place of righteousness but, as Peter says, we look for a new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells. . . .

Pray boldly - you, too, are a mighty sinner."


These words have been called Luther's "most provocative words," "the boldest and wildest utterance of Luther on justification."

But perhaps more provocative, more wild, more bold were these:

"It is finished."



"And if these things are true - and they are - then let everything else go."
Martin Luther


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power.

After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high..."
Hebrews 1:2-3



"And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands.

This he set aside, nailing it to the cross."
Colossians 2:13-14



"But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law, although the Law and the Prophets bear witness to it -
the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.

For there is no distinction: all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift,

through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith.

This was to show God's righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time,

so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus."
Romans 3:21-26

Reformation Week

"He was like a man climbing in the darkness of a winding staircase in the steeple of an ancient cathedral. In the blackness he reached out to steady himself, and his hand laid hold of a rope.
He was startled to hear the clanging of a bell..."
Karl Barth, on Martin Luther

"Don't resist helplessness -- it's the power of your prayer life."
Bill Thrasher, Journey to a Victorious Prayer Life


This is the week leading up to Reformation Day, the day that Martin Luther posted his 95 Theses and the bells began to ring. Thinking about my ancient friend this week, in all his wild zeal and astonishing humility...

Reading... and Living... Between the Lines

A very wise man once said:

Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.
Ecc. 12:12

I read a lot, on various topics. I read fluff and I read lead-weight tomes. I also listen to a couple of podcasts like White Horse Inn when I can. I have devotional books, weekly sermons, and multiple conversations on a variety of topics on a daily/weekly basis.

Sometimes I think this is good for me.

And sometimes I think it's... not.

Some things glide over and leave no lasting residue, some things settle and work on me, maturing me. And some things stick in the craw. And then there are some things that I just don't know what to make of.

That last part is the part that probably makes up the majority of anything of significance. It might be something that is worthy of effort and attention -- and then again, it might be worth tossing. The problem is, I don't always know from page 1: discernment takes time and concentration and an effort at understanding the whole. I find this extremely uncomfortable, this in-between place where ignorance is being exposed but wisdom hasn't yet made its appearance. It's humbling to learn or re-learn! Re-learning is probably more humbling than learning. Oh, how many times have I been so sure... only to find out that that particular house I was building had a sandy foundation.

I've been there enough times to know that I don't know it all. But here's the rub: you have to start somewhere if you want to get anywhere. And so I start with another topic, another book, and I go through periods of discomfort and restlessness, waiting for God to work on me and put all those jangling pieces in my head together into some cohesive whole.

And then...

And then comes the hardest part of all. Then comes the question:

So what?

What do I do with new ideas and new revelations? Maybe it's a revelation of error or ignorance. Maybe it's a lightbulb moment and another brick is laid instead of another stronghold being demolished. Either way, the result is discomfort for a season, a place where I am forced to trust God to keep what He has entrusted to me. A time to practice trusting Him with my soul and the outcome of my life's efforts.

Do you ever read something or learn something and think, "I've done it all wrong, now what? What a wasted opportunity I've had..." When I have moments like that my first reaction is to race to fix it, to look for the outline form to fill in with answers. That would be so satisfying --

But instead we're all asked to live in the not-knowing, the not-now, the not-yet. We're asked to believe that "He who began a good work in you will complete it" and that "He is able to keep" those people we love, whose lives we touch for good or ill. So for me, as I read and learn and re-learn, I have to remember this charge given by Peter:

"Be diligent to be found by Him... in peace."
2 Peter 3:14

Meekness, according to Elisabeth Elliott, is the willingness to be taught. It is the sister of humility. I am not a meek person by nature, neither am I naturally humble. To learn to be meek is one thing -- to learn to be meek and at peace is quite another.

"It is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace," said the writer of Hebrews. If it's one thing I'm learning of late, it's that this pilgrimage is a long one, and the destination is the only point of "arrival." Still, we have to live and move and be in this world... we have to make decisions and use our good judgment, even when we know our hearts are deceitful and wicked and our judgment is cloudy at best. Christians know better than anyone how our fallen state affects all corners of our daily lives. This is an uncomforable place, like I said - to be required and responsible to use fallen instruments righteously, to make wise judgments with fallen natures and to see clearly when the mirror is dark and the window pane is wonky.

So this is why Christ must be front and center. He alone is able to save us from ourselves, even redeeming the errors we make in order to use them for our good. This is grace, and it strengthens weak hearts. So I whisper to myself in moments of fear or panic, "His is able... It is kept."

Yes - "all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well."

Fenceless

Lately I seem to keep running up against people who challenge some of my most well-worn and most relied-upon mental images, the things that help me make sense of my world. Sometimes I have to mull on new things awhile and make sure that it isn't just clever phrasing that grabs my attention, but it's not a bad thing to be made to THINK once in awhile. Sometimes it is a gift -- the ability to suddenly see something that is worn and faded become new and colorful again. There are times that I've decided the original format was good enough... but the mental exercise is usually beneficial anyway.

Our ancient creeds come to us in similar ways -- they weren't written to state a new concept to that particular body of believers as much as they were written to RE-state in clarified form something that had been assumed, worn, and faded with use... something useful had been questioned with clever words and savvy doubters... and those tired old phrases didn't seem to measure up anymore. But when the council convened and the Scriptures were consulted, the Holy Spirit blew through with grace and made what was old and true beautiful again, and we are blessed today with glorious old words like these:

I believe in one God the Father Almighty,
Maker of heaven and earth,
And of all things visible and invisible:

And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God,
Begotten of his Father before all worlds,
God of God, Light of Light,
Very God of very God...



On a more modern and less signficant note, I find new phrasing and better examples of things to hold to in life on a regular basis. Sometimes, though, certain ways of thinking and certain words stick with me and become part of my "lens" through which I see life. For example, I often think of life in Christ like a field with picket fencing... in fact, I wrote about that recently. I have a tendency to live right next to the fence with my back to green pastures. I have a tendency to soul-wander. Those picket fences, like the law, become "pleasant boundary lines" when the woods beyond grow shadowy-close. I use this phraseology with the kids frequently.

Yesterday I read something that challenged this word-picture in my mind, and I'm mulling on it today. What do you think?

"Resisting cultural ideologies... is not a matter of keeping these theologies at arm's length as much as maintaining our focus on Jesus Christ despite pressure to focus on ourselves. An African Christian described it to me this way:

'You Americans think of Christianity as a farm with a fence. Your question is: Are you inside the fence or outside of it? We Africans think differently. We think of Christianity as a farm with no fence. Our question is: Are you heading towards the farm, or away from it?' "

The church's identity is not defined primarily by its edges, but by its center: focused on Christ, the sole source of our identity, no intruder poses a threat. No alien hops a fence, because there is no fence. Boundaries are determined by proximity to the Holy Spirit's centripetal pull, not by arbitrary human borders."
Kendra Creasy Dean

Ms. Dean was talking more about our tendency to erect barriers between each other, and between "us" and "them." But I thought the imagery was still provocative. There is a sacred even in the secular, and all is under the dominion of Christ.

Still, I guess the point is, THERE IS A FARM. And a farmer who waits to welcome His children home to it every day of our lives.
And there is more Good News: there is also a Good Shepherd on this farm who refuses to lose even one of His Father's sheep -- and He's not afraid of the big, bad wolf in those dark woods beyond.

For freedom Christ has set us free...
Gal. 5:1

Yes, Nathanael, There is Good in Nazareth...

When we moved here 9 years ago, the neighborhood was new. We saw the plans laid out as we signed the papers: a pool here, tennis courts there, wooded areas where the creek runs behind. There followed a year of hammering and buzzing all around us until finally our section was complete. Another year of heavy trucks lumbering by, at all hours, down and around and out of sight and back. And then the quiet began to return, along with the squirrels and birds.

And now the trees that were new are full and tall, the bushes overgrown in areas, the sod established, the neighbors settled in.

I run a path through these familiar, quiet streets and see mostly a sculptured kind of beauty as I pass. I smell the scent of dryer sheets as the dryers vent into backyards, and from time to time I have to slow down when I smell tea olives blooming on the way.


But still there are sections of barrenness between established homes. There will be sod -- and then -- dirt, gravel, weeds. Nature returns to itself in places that are not tended, and their ugliness mars the beauty of the surrounding areas. How easy it is to find the gaze directed at ugliness, and suddenly I'm looking not at blue sky but the arresting reminders that this is no paradise...


As I walked out the front door today with my iPhone in hand, I caught a whiff... ah, the tea olive must be blooming. Again? I had to go check, around the corner of our house, where hiding the big ugly metal of heating and air units is a tea olive reaching to the second floor of our house. Its tips just brush Claire's windowsill. Mmmmm... if I could bottle that fragrance, I'd be a wealthy woman! It smells like heaven. In fact, one night I dreamed that I was swimming in this beautiful exotic location and no matter where I went, the water felt perfect and the air always, always smelled like tea olives. I remember in my dream I didn't want to leave paradise...

So I stopped for a few moments and sniffed till I (almost) had my fill. And then I set off on my run. I passed through quiet streets with their interspersing empty ugly lots. There was a hawk flying overhead today, huge and black against the bright midday sun. Its shadow fell over me once or twice.



Did you know that there are tv channels devoted to "the good life?" Their programming is designed (I suppose) to inspire poor people to get rich, or to inspire the rich to spend more money. :) I find it entertaining, this spin they put on "living the life you've imagined," as if that is within our grasp at all times, the big "if only..."

When Claire was a baby, I could easily imagine the life I wanted -- it was the same one that everyone else seemed to have already. We once took a trip to visit some old friends who lived in a neighborhood much like the one we live in today, and on the way home John and I sat in dumb silence, contemplating how impossible it seemed that we would ever have the chance to take our kids to our own neighborhood pool, or even walk safely down the streets with the stroller in tow. We had no common areas, no garden, no picnic tables. Just a very tiny little starter home that was both my joy and my frustration. No matter how vividly we could wanted a better life, I also wanted to be home with the kids, and John enjoyed his work. We made our choices within the given boundaries. Life comes with choices. Imagination may be boundless -- but reality has borders, and you only hurt yourself when you continually ram your pretty head against them.

Within a year or so, however, we found ourselves living in a house double the size of our first home. It happened so fast we barely had time to take a deep breath and fully appreciate the gift! Within the next 3 years, we were leaving my hometown and all I knew, including that house that had been the dream for so long and the neighboring pool that seemed to encapsulate everything I had wanted at the time.

And here we are, living in a place BEYOND what we imagined. And still I remember one day just a few years ago, watching one of those daydreamy shows about people who move to Italy and proceed to "live that life they imagined." They made it all seem so simple! The kind of show that makes you look around your suburban home and say, "Hey, we're adults in a free country, for goodness' sakes! Why are we here, when we could be in ITALY?" I asked John in a fit of frustration-with-self: "Do you think there is ANYONE in the world who ever says, 'I wonder what it's like to live in American suburbia?'" In comparison to the wild beauty of the cliffs of Greece or the small towns of Italy or the shores of Hawaii, WHO in their right mind would CHOOSE to live HERE? He looked at me with one peaked eyebrow and said: "Um, yeah... probably about 3/4 of the entire world." Oh. yeah. Those people. :)

My point is, my imagination cannot touch what God has planned for us, for any of us. And God's best isn't usually good fodder for prime-time tv shows - His ways are NOT our ways, and His good intentions toward us do not always translate to our standards. His plan is to give us HOPE and PURPOSE -- these things we cannot grasp for ourselves with money, travel, or adventure.

We live before His face every day, right where He plants us, but still our hearts wander and rove and step on the lines and poke the fences for weak points where we might technically squeeze through. Even though there are acres within the pleasant boundary lines, our hearts still want to linger at the fenceposts. In our distraction and preoccupation, our backs stay turned to the green pastures and the still waters inside. We've seen those intermittent brambly places where nature seems to have taken over and they look ugly... we know the fence doesn't keep out the ugly, and our hearts long for perfect. Maybe it's out there...

We are homesick for eternity. We are longing, but in this twisted world we get it all wrong! We think we're longing for THAT... when in reality, all we really want is here. It's just not ALL here, yet...

Sometimes the bumper sticker is great: Life is Good. It's good on a sunny day when the tea olives are blooming and I feel strength in my legs. Sometimes we say to each other, "If God wills, we will do this or that," and He DOES allow, and we are glad.
And sometimes life is a living, ugly hell of an empty lot, and we wonder with Nathanael, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" (John 1:46)


Maybe life is simply dull, monotonous, colorless, and that tv channel drones like a prophet: "your life is what YOU make it. Live the life you imagine!" But the law comes like a wolf in sheep's clothing... when it sounds like promise and hope, it brings a heavy burden instead. In contrast, Jesus is the True Prophet and He tells us about his upside-down wisdom that topples worlds:

"If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?" Matt. 16:24-26

Ah, Nathanael. Did anything good come from Nazareth? Only the best... the only thing good enough to ransom our souls.


There WAS good in Nazareth.
There IS beauty in ashes.
There IS treasure in clay pots.
There IS a pearl in those overgrown fields.

Instead of living the life I've imagined, let me live the life He imagined before time began, to do the works He has planned beforehand for me to do. It may look like a long, hard, sweaty run uphill past overgrown empty lots full of weeds... followed by the breezy downhill rush of quiet, with the fragrance of tea olives along the way. It may not look like much to me, even at its best, and I may forget to be grateful for all the good things laid out behind me, all the mercies leading to this moment, the wind at my back and the sun on my face. I may feel hot and distracted.

But one day the veil will be removed and I will see it all for what it was: hidden beauty.

There is no need for restlessness. He IS wherever I already AM. I don't need to travel to Italy to be overwhelmed by God's glory. I don't have to feel the burden to "make life" anything at all, because IT IS KEPT. Jesus is the crown jewel, and He is enough to make even the barren beautiful. His beautiful presence in jars of clay is what makes even hardened pottery valuable. We don't have to measure the things themselves, or our quality of life, in order to estimate the goodness of life in this land of the living -- or to measure God's grace -- or to measure God's goodness towards us.

The angels once asked the disciples, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here..." What I want is THERE: all of Him and all of Heaven forever. I see bits of Him all around like pieces of scattered light... but despite my best attempts to gather and store and categorize and hoard, He will not be bound and boxed. All that glitters here is not the gold... IT IS NOT HERE.

My treasure is KEPT in heaven for me. Will I be patient for it? Aaron and his golden calf are no substitutes for the real God on the smoking mountain.

"Men of Galilee," the angels asked again a bit later, "Why do you stand looking? This same Jesus will come again..."

So --
knowing this, I am free to "live, move, and have my being" in this world. All this pasture, soft and green and watered, with its dark, weedy patches, is mine to roam and enjoy and co-create and muddle through. There are discoveries to be made and activities to be explored and suffering to be endured. But the hidden beauty in it ALL (good, bad, and ugly!) is that the Good Shepherd travels with me just like He did with the Israelites: going before, settling around. All is well, and one day we will know and not just believe it to be true.

We will see with our eyes the finished product of this long, slow process: the Temple He is building on the threshing floors... the one that COST something to build. Every precious tear that goes into it, every death that comes because of it is kept and precious to God the Creator.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time."
Ecc. 3:11

There is a time for everything... but one intent:
to live Coram Deo,
Soli Deo Gloria.


"Let your eyes look directly forward, and your gaze be straight ahead of you...
Do not swerve."
Prov. 4:25-27

"Glory to God in the highest --
And on earth [be] peace: [there is] goodwill toward men."
Luke 2:14

Time for Apple Upside-Down Cake

It's fall, and that means apples. We are currently living sans foodtv. Our satellite plan doesn't provide it. Yes, I feel the loss of inspiration -- BUT this has sent me browsing PBS, and thank goodness for America's Test Kitchen and Cook's Country. My people here at home are feeling the love, too, because tonight's apple cake was inspired by a recent episode whose deliciousness sent me directly to the internet for the printable recipe. I don't think it's up anymore, so I'm probably breaking some sort of internet rules by posting it here, but lets throw caution to the wind, shall we?


There is something so very satisfying about slicing an apple for recipes, I think. It makes me feel like a chef.

1. Core and peel 4 granny smith apples. Cut 2 of them into 1/2 inch slices. Cut 2 of them into 1/4 inch slices.


Here you have 2 choices: you can either bake this in a 10" iron skillet like I did...
or...
you can bake it in a buttered 9" round, 2" deep (make sure it's deep enough!) nonstick cake pan.

If you use the skillet, don't butter it. Do it all in one pan, easy peasy.

If you use the cake pan, butter it. Then brown the apples and add them to the pan. Got it? My directions assume a skillet, since that's what I used.

3. Heat 4 T. butter in your skillet. When the foaming subsides, add the 1/2" sliced apples in a single layer. Let them caramelize (don't stir much!). This takes about 4-6 minutes.


I had to include this picture only because I LOVE BROWN SUGAR and it is another very satisfying thing to do, packing brown sugar. Ahhhhh...


4. Add 1/4" sliced apples, 2/3 c. brown sugar, and 2 t. lemon juice. Stir to coat all pieces, and let this dissolve into a "sauce." Set this aside while you make the cake (or if you're using another cake pan, go ahead and pour it into that buttered pan).


5. For the cake, whisk 1 c. unbleached AP flour, 1 T. cornmeal, 1 t. baking powder, and 1/2 t. salt in a medium bowl. Set aside.

6. Whisk 3/4 c. granulated sugar, 1/4 c. light brown sugar, and 2 eggs together until thick and homogeneous, about 45 seconds. Slowly whisk in 6 T. MELTED butter until combined. Add 1/2 c. sour cream and 1 t. vanilla, whisk until combined. Add flour mixture and mix until just combined. Pour this batter over the apples and spread evenly. Bake at 350 for about 40 minutes ON THE BOTTOM RACK or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean.


7. Cool the pan on a wire rack for 20 minutes. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT, otherwise your fruit will run all over the place! Let it set. Be patient. :)

8. Run a paring knife around the edges to loosen. Invert the cake onto a plate, and let it sit for another 15 minutes to cool and set.

Enjoy the wonderfulness.

Suddenly Fall

We went from hot to quite chilly overnight! I spent the summer keeping the blinds closed and the oven off... no bright lights, no hot dinners. But now it's time to open the windows and warm up the hearth fires! Nothing says "change of season" like the smell of chili simmering and cornbread baking once again.

Signs of fall are all around. After a long, hot summer, we're drinking it in:












I'm finding some renewed energy and interest in things like RUNNING. For the non-dedicated like myself, it was simply too darned hot to run this summer. I felt like I stayed hot from June 1st onward, even without much movement. Even the pool was hot!

It's time for textiles, yarn in my lap and blankets on my legs. Jackets are hanging on the hooks once again. Fall is a lovely season, for so many reasons, and so very welcome here. I think everyone who lives in a place with 4 seasons feels the same: THANKFUL! I spurn the Christmas dept in October! Give me fall, and that's enough. Let me have my time to rejoice in a "good harvest" before the clamor of need and the want of winter sets in... There is no season like fall for making everyone feel richly content, both inside and out. What a blessing to be surrounded by richness of color, taste, scent, and even sound, no matter the numbers in my checkbook. :)

There is yet "goodness in the land of the living." Fall is a beautiful reminder of what is to come, a haunting melody that I seem to recall from another place, something stirring that makes me almost homesick. I find myself thankful for these beautiful days, this gorgeous light, the cool breezes and the colorful trees, but also for a HOME I haven't seen yet but long for more and more with every passing season. It will be good, and fall teases me with a memory of what will be...