Wind

And He got up and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, "Hush, be still." And the wind died down and it became perfectly calm. - Mark 4:39

When was the last time you licked your finger and thrust it into the air to see which way the wind was blowing? Or when was the last time you shrieked upon seeing a windsock indicating an East wind? And if that windsock were to change to indicate a West wind, would you breathe a sigh of relief?

Throughout the Scriptures, an East wind was predominately a precursor to destruction. Whether this destruction was to come by famine (Gen 41:27) or locusts (Ex. 10:13) or captivity (Isa. 27:8) or withering (Eze. 19:12) or drought (Ho. 13:15), an East wind rarely meant anything good. Every once in a while we get the East wind parting and drying seas to allow the people of God to pass through safely.(Ex. 14:21) A West wind on the other hand should remind us of deliverance. Feel that wind on your face and rejoice that the locusts are being swept into the sea. (Ex. 10:19)

If you are not used to tracking where the wind is actually coming from, this might be a difficult exercise. But while you are developing your wind-direction-sense, you can always remember Noah and the wind that dried the floodwaters. (Gen 8:1)

You should also remember that the Spirit of God is like the wind, blowing wherever he wishes. He invades rooms (Acts 2:2) and he invades souls. (Joh 3:8) He does not relent until he gains entrance. The wind can make palm trees bow to the ground and in a like manner the hearts of men follow suit. Always remember though that the wind shakes the trees; the trees do not create the wind. This truth tends to destroy spiritual pride.

Do not chase the wind though, for that is vanity. I am not, of course, referring to the Spirit of God now. Instead I am speaking of the wind as the fleeting pleasures of this life. Just as the wind blows once and is gone, so is life apart from the hope of resurrection. The wind is the pursuit of fools (Ec. 1:14) and the inheritance of the disobedient (Pr. 11:29) Men who spend their life accumulating and becoming weightless things will be swept away by the wind like so much dust and chaff.

The same wind that can bring wreck to a ship and its crew is speechless at the rebuke of Jesus. Those who were there began to see the implications: “Who is this that the wind and the waves obey him?” (Mr. 4:39-41)

If you decided to be driven along by every wind that came your way I imagine it would not be long before you were locked up. So is the man who has his doctrinal finger moistened and pointing skyward. He never wants to be a step behind the latest theological trend. However, if a man would be rooted in the Truth, the winds will blow themselves silly, while he stands unmoved. (Eph. 4:14)

And finally, lets us not forget the angels. (Ps. 104:4) The wind ought to remind us that God is active in his world; many times through his messengers and servants, the angels.

Go find some wind and tell your kids what it means.

Rocks

"For their rock is not as our Rock; our enemies are by themselves." - Deuteronomy 32:31

I little while back I picked up a cubic yard of gravel for my yard. And when I say "picked up" what I mean is that I had a bobcat tractor dump three loads of gravel into the bed of my truck. I guess I hadn't thought about how much this gravel might actually weigh but whatever I had been thinking wasn't even close. Thankfully the quarry yard was only about 2 miles from my house because my full size truck was literally groaning under the weight of a bed full of gravel. My tailgate has never been the same since. It wiggles slightly when it is closed and every once in a while, if I slam it shut, a few pieces of gravel trickle down from some unknown hiding place. Ever since this experience I have wondered how much the Earth weighs.

When you think about it, this giant ball spinning through outer space is basically one big rock with a little water splashed here and there. If you took all of the rocks in the worlds and weighed them, to what could you compare that number? And would that number actually mean anything to you?

I just Googled the question, “How much does the Earth weigh?” The first website that popped up was a science website called “howstuffworks.com”. They tell me…strike that…they first correct me and then tell me that, “it would be more proper to ask, "What is the mass of planet Earth?" The quick answer to that is: approximately 6,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 (6E+24) kilograms.” Being an American, kilograms make no sense to me. Here is that number in pounds: 13,227,735,720,000,000,000,000,000 lbs. And apparently, the Earth is gaining 100,000 pounds per year. I blame fast food.

All that to say, rocks are generally pretty heavy. They can break windows handily. Even if they are “light” rocks. You just have the throw them harder.

God made rocks for a reason though and breaking windows probably wasn’t at the top of the “Proper Usage of Rocks” list, if there was such a thing. I think that one of the main reasons that God made the earth weigh about 13 trillion, trillion (actual name for that number) pounds is that he wanted the statement ,“The LORD is my Rock” (Ps. 18:2) to blow our minds.

When I pick up a rock in my yard and turn it over in my hand, feeling its weight and texture and solidarity, I ought to remember that God is my Rock. He is sure and solid and weighty. Winds don’t move him and water won’t float him. In other words, he is faithful forever and worthy of my trust. (Isa. 26:4) My Rock is my security and refuge during a storm. (Ps. 31:2)

My Rock, along with his glorious Gospel, is worth building my house upon. Winds and rains will come and my house will stand. (Mt. 7:24-25) No building code in the world could hope to require the strength of that Foundation. The Rock is required and nothing else will do.

Rock in hand; I should try to imagine water flowing forth. I love the smell of a wet rock but only the most insane among us would imagine the wetness coming from within the rock. I have a staff around here somewhere; and I think that if I banged on rocks all day long the water within would stubbornly refuse my beckoning. And yet, Moses struck the rock and water came-a-gushin’. Rocks should remind us that God provides for his people. Even by water from rocks. Even when they lack faith. But he does not only bring water from rocks, but also honey. (Ps. 81:16) In other words, rocks should also remind us that God is not stingy with his provisions.

And if we could not think of a more contrary thing than water coming out of a rock, God decided to make fire spring up from a rock for Gideon. (Jud. 6:21) And that was in spite of Gideon’s ridiculous requests for proof.

I should also be warned that a rock is also biblically analogous to a hardened and unrepentant heart. I should be warned that if the soil is too rocky, the plant may flourish for a moment but then be scorched by the sun. (Lu 8:6,13)

I should remember Peter. A lesser rock to be sure, but definitively useful in the formation of the early church. (Mt. 16:18)

Rocks are amazing things. They can be used as anchors. They can be used as walls and buildings. They can be used as altars and memorials. They can be used for jewelry and weapons. They can be used to seal tombs. However, they have the hardest time staying sealed. And we should be thankful for their colossal failure in this regard.

I have an idea

I teach Sunday School for 8-12 graders every Sunday. It is one of the highlights of my week. There was a 4 year stretch of my life when I was teaching the Bible 6 days a week (sometimes 7 on the odd Saturday) to teenagers. I believe that the Lord has gifted me towards this sort of thing and I really can't imagine another thing I'd rather be doing. To paraphrase someone (don't recall who), "I teach for the same reason dogs bark."

Over the course of the years I have been doing this, I have taught a whole lot of things from the Bible. I used to teach an OT Survey course and an NT Survey course so I suppose you might even say that I have taught the whole bible a couple of times through. That is not to say that I have taught everything the Bible has to say (not even close), just that I have taught through the book of Obadiah at least 4 times and if you have taught through Obadiah 4 times...well...

Before this begins to sound more puffed up than it already does, I wanted to say that I have been brainstorming for my next Sunday School series. I just finished a couple of weeks on Biblical Friendship and I have committed the next couple of weeks to Biblical Manhood and Womanhood. After that, I have been drawing a blank. Until today.

My carpool partner, Devin, and I spend about 60 minutes a day either talking or listening to talk radio. We've been doing this for the past 4 years and I will tell you, you talk about a lot of different things over the course of that many hours. He has truly challenged my thinking in ways I cannot even account for and has brought things to my attention that I don't believe I otherwise would have ever seen. I guess I should be honest and admit that this idea was birthed by him, in case he reads this and tries to sue me for copyright infringement.

You should also know that Devin and I have planned to write many books, the latest of which I am now stealing for my own Sunday School use. We are planning (always planning rarely doing) on writing a book about the biblical significance of objects in the world around us. Things like bread, wine, blood, rain, fish, stars, sand, and trees. It is my conviction that some of the FIRST things a Christian should think about when he thinks about stars is NOT all the scientific "facts" about stars that he learned in school. His FIRST thoughts should be something along the lines of God's Creation, His covenant with Abraham, His power, Psalm 8, Shepherds heading to Bethlehem and the like. The world is full of symbols and metaphors that are freely and gladly used by God and the writers of Scripture to describe, explain and remind us of who God is, who we are, why we are here, why the world exists, where the world is going, etc.

This is the heart of worldview thinking that has been sorely neglected. I imagine that if I took a survey of my students (probably even myself) and asked them what they think of when they think of "seeds" they most likely would not immediately think of the seed of the Serpent, the Seed of the woman and the Sower in the field. Heck, I am just beginning to train myself to think biblically about the world and all the glorious stuff in it. We should think this way though. And so that is why I am going to teach them (and me) how to think about things like water, fire, rock, river, garden, milk, sun, moon and as many others as I can think of. In fact, I already have a list going.

I am writing this here because I want to test fly my lessons on this here blog and maybe do a little spit and polish before I launch them at my kids on Sunday. I suppose this means that I will have to begin blogging more than once a month. Maybe even 4 times a month. Here's to hoping.

Chet

P.S. I also have a backlog of stuff about Owen. That may be appearing as well.

Raising Owen Part II - The Importance of Naming

Raising Owen Part II - The Importance of Naming

I wonder what was the first thing that came to Adam's mind when he saw a hippo for the first time.  God was in the middle of wowing him with a parade of animals and then BAM! A hippo.  What do you do with that sort of thing?  Adam was exercising dominion over the earth.  One of the most significant parts of this exercise was that of naming the animals.  God named Adam, Adam named that animals.  Throughout the bible, there is a tremendous significance attached to names.  Whether the name was Isaac, because of laughter or Israel for striving.  Whether it was a renaming from Abram to Abraham, Levi to Matthew, or Saul to Paul, names meant (and mean) something to God and something to parents.  Which is why we have named our son Owen Baxter.

The name Owen is tricky.  You see, my family are rabid San Jose Sharks hockey fans.  Owen Nolan used to be their captain.  Naturally, my brother Steve assumed we were naming him after a former hockey player.  My mom instantly thought of Owen Wilson, the actor.  Aside from the fact that his nose makes my nose hurt, I could not think of a poorer namesake.  Actually, that isn't true. I probably could.  I digress.  Owen does a nice poetic quality and is phonetically a "strong" sounding name.  Both of which I like but not the reason why we chose it.

We chose Owen for two reasons.  In my mind (perhaps not Kat's) neither of these reasons is the "main" reason, so pay no attention to the order of presentation.  We named Owen because Kat had read somewhere that it means "desire born."  This obviously has resonance with us because we have deeply desired a family for a couple of years now.  Owen will be a young man born to fulfill a deep desire of both Kat and I for parenthood.  We also named Owen because one of my heroes was a man named John Owen.  John Owen was a theologian and Renaissance man in 17th century.  He was a man who new what he believed and was willing to stand up for it no matter what odds were against him.  He served as Oliver Cromwell's chaplain and as the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford University for a number of years.  He is widely know as one of the most brilliant theological minds of the last 500 years.

Owen had a profound religious experience (much akin to our modern "conversion" experience) while listening to a sermon on Matthew 8:26: "And [Jesus] said to them, 'Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?"  Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm."  Given our love for all things ocean, we couldn't have picked a better man to be moved by a better verse.

Baxter is a different story.  Nobody likes Baxter.  But we do.  It means, "baker."  That is not why we chose it though.  We chose it because of a man named Richard Baxter.  Richard Baxter was a Puritan pastor who was a contemporary of John Owen.  I read his books The Reformed Pastor, Saint's Everlasting Rest and Call to the Unconverted to Turn and Live while in college and they had a major formative role in shaping my theology of ministry and God's call on my life.  His books, along with one significant conversation with my pastor, are the main reasons why I am a teacher.  

An interesting historical tidbit - Owen and Baxter disagreed over their theology of Christ's atonement (Owen was right, in my humble opinion) and spent a number of years in controversy over the doctrine.  When they were both expelled from the Church of England for being Non-Conformists (too long of  a story for too short of a blog) they ended up putting aside their controversy for a time in order to minister together for the good of countless other Christians who had been expelled along with them.  It paints a pretty awesome picture for my son that his two namesakes, who disagreed and fought over some very important (yet non-salvific) issues were able to put aside the disagreements for the good of others.

The name Owen Baxter means something.  I look forward to explaining to my son where his name comes from.

Chet

P.S. Not to mention that the name Owen Baxter just rolls off the tongue.

Raising Owen

So Kat and I are adopting a little boy. Owen Baxter is going to be born on June 8th and in the kind providence of God we will be there to take him home from the hospital. It is hard to describe how excited we both are about this whole process. I could recount dozens of "small" providences that have culminated in the arrival of our son but suffice to say that again and again, we are completely floored by the perfect timing and goodness of God.

As this is a relatively uncommon way to become a first time parent, I am thankful for the many lessons already learned and anxious for the future lessons that God will teach me through this unique experience. The desire for adoption has been on my heart since I was much younger. The last 3 weeks of pursuing Owen Baxter specifically, have given me much to think about. I wanted to write down a few thoughts about parenthood and raising kids (specifically sons). While I have not yet done any of these things, I do have some ideas and hopes that I would like to share...even if it is for my own benefit.

My students just turned in their process essays and one of the prompts was: "How to raise children." They initially questioned me as to how they were supposed to know how to raise kids since they have obviously never done so. In turn I asked them, "what good is it to know how to raise kids after you are done raising them?" They nodded, obviously in awe of my incisive Socratic question and the majority proceeded to write their essay on the process of raising children. I suppose that in order to do anything well, you have to have an idea of what you want as a result. Once you have that firmly (more or less) established, you work backwards in considering how in the heck you are going to get there. So here is my process essay (of sorts) on how to raise a son (as told by a zero-parenting-experience-28-year-old man.) Take it or leave it.

Rasing Owen

Three weeks ago my wife and I got a phone call. A friend, who has been a friend for the better part of a decade, had an opportunity for us. She had known that we were in the process of getting certified for foster/adoption care. She had been working as the director of a maternity home for a while when a woman had come to her desiring to give her baby up for adoption. She called us. This woman, whom we now know and love, was carrying Owen in her womb.

As the reality has sunken in over the past 3 weeks, becoming a father for the first time, raising a son, adopting a child, and many other thoughts like these began to bang around in my skull. I immediately did two things. First, I tore down all the drywall in Owen's future nursery in order to install some insulation before re-drywalling. This, you see, is my way of celebrating. My wife buys onesies. I destroy walls and rebuild them. (There has got to be a metaphor in their somewhere.) Second, I ordered some books on parenting. I finished the first book in two days. I was too impatient for the second book (as it just arrived in the mail today) so I borrowed it from a friend. Three days later I was ready for another. This has been my routine for the last two weeks or so. Not the drywall thing; the book thing. The drywall was a one time deal.

This obviously was not the first time I had ever thought of being a dad or adopting and raising a son, but it was a good time to focus my attentions more specifically on the topics at hand. As I read on the couch and meditated while mudding, priming and painting drywall, I began to develop a sort of "vision" for what I was going to shoot for in raising Owen.

I want him to be a man who honors his mother and father, serves his church, wonders at the world around him, gives thanks, loves mercy, acts justly, walks humbly, and most of all, cherishes his Savior. I want him to believe and teach his children, my grandchildren, to believe. I want him to know the Scriptures, to do them and to instruct others. I want him to be a good husband, a loving father, an honest and diligent employee and a respectable employer. I want him to love the faith of his spiritual forefathers and love his spiritual lineage. I want him to look you in the eye, shake your hand firmly, open doors for your daughter and stand up when your wife enters the room. I want him to experience the freedom of liberty in Christ and the blessed slavery to righteousness. I want him to work hard in his vocation and earn an honest living. I want his future father-in-law to unreservedly rejoice when he asks for his future wife's hand. I want him to see and trust the hand of God in everything. I want him to exercise a faithful dominion over the world. I want him to love music, books, surfing, stories and good food. I want him to love The Bread and The Cup. I want him to be a man whose word is trustworthy. I want him to refuse to make excuses. I want him to ask for forgiveness and give it as freely as he has received it from God. I want him to be courageous and to know when he must fight. I want him to be thoroughly and gloriously masculine. I want him to love learning and pursue wisdom and virtue. I want him to know and rejoice in the Lordship of Christ over all things. I want him to find his identity and self-worth in the fact that he is made in the image of God. I want him to be a man who laughs long and hard.

Needless to say, it is a long list of expectations and I do know that it is all too easy to exasperate a young man with such an imposing list. I also happen to know that it is not unrealistic as I know many men who meet such a description. The big question is, of course, "How do we get there?" It all sounds well and good but where and how does the proverbial rubber meet the proverbial road? Thankfully, this list is much shorter. Unfortunately, it is simultaneously much more difficult.

I need to pray. I need to consistently love and discipline. I need to wrestle him. I need to make sure he gets dirty. I need to love my wife more. I need to teach my son to believe. I need to insist on dignity, honor and respect in all that he does. I need to educate him under the Lordship of Christ. I need to bring him to The Water and The Table. I need to love what I want my son to love and hate what I want him to hate. I need to tell stories. I need to laugh more. I need to repent. Often. I need to be the man I want my son to become.

Thank God for grace.

There is much more to be said about adoption but if you are still reading this post, you have stuck with me long enough for now.

Slumdog Millionaire

I went to see Slumdog Millionaire tonight.  It was fantastic in every way except the most important way.  It had believable characters, compelling style, fascinating settings, a coherent structure, balanced humor/romance/drama/suspense, a great plot with engaging rising action, conflict, climax and resolution (in other words it told a wonderfully Christian story) and then it ended by chalking the whole thing up to "destiny."

How an obviously intelligent writer could write such a wonderfully personal story with very personal characters and personal conflict and personal resolution only to end the whole thing with an impersonal force behind it all absolutely baffles me. How a story can be so Christian in so many glorious ways and then do a backflip off the wagon of coherence when it comes to the question of ultimate meaning is very frustrating.

I highly recommend the movie for the many aforementioned qualities but I ask that you simply remember that the reason why you will enjoy this movie is because it is retelling God's story very well in many ways.  Do your best not to be distracted by the hypocritical fatalist writer's lame attempts at a godless explanation after he just ripped off of God's story without so much as a footnote or "Work cited" reference.