Too many people are hurting today, Lord. Comfort them and send help. If it is I you want, then send me. May I be a blessing to someone today, not for my glory but for yours and for the sake of someone who is in need.
Bearing Rotten Fruit
I earned my undergraduate degree at a small liberal arts Christian college in the northeast. There is a line in the Alma Mater that says, “Her fruit trees loaded down.” My friends and I were never able to sing this with a straight face. Most of us sang it in the singular, as the only known fruit tree was an aging green apple tree near the dining hall. It has occurred to me that collectively, Christians are often more similar to that tree than they realize. The fruit we bear is scant, sour, or unattainable to people outside the orchard.
We might be approaching the idea of bearing fruit from the wrong direction. It’s often seen as one of three miss-the-mark types: obligation, evidence, or opportunity. For some, “bearing fruit” is defined as no more or less than doing good deeds. If we feed the poor, clothe the naked, and visit the sick or imprisoned, we’ve successfully avoided becoming the morally bankrupt goats of Matthew 25. It’s something we have to do; it’s not optional.
For others, “bearing fruit” is the proof that we are real Christians. That might include some form of doing good deeds, but it is neither limited to such nor are such necessary as proof. It’s often nebulous, and might take the form of, say, not swearing at the driver who just cut you off. There’s an element of somehow becoming a nicer or better person.
Still others look at “bearing fruit” as some combination of doing good deeds and telling people how to be saved from Hell. I personally find this one more distasteful than the others. The previous two options are empty, but they don’t carry the weight of kindness with strings attached: “I’ll feed you, but you need to listen to a sermon while you eat.” I’m all for sharing the Good News, but the primary reason for helping people shouldn’t be in order to gain their undivided attention to our religious views.
Somewhere along the way, we’ve forgotten how to just live. We’ve forgotten to simply care for a need when we see it, born out of love for a fellow human. This isn’t just a problem among Christians. Governments, and politically-minded people, do it too. We argue over whether taxes should feed the poor and to what extent, failing to put real faces behind the very people we’re arguing about. The educational system does it, too. Those at the top and those in the trenches fight over what’s best for the students, while large numbers of kids are not getting what they need.
Maybe what we need, instead of more ministries, organizations, and methods, is to simply let ourselves be drawn in when a situation arises. Where will you see someone today who is hurting, sick, naked, or hungry? Let’s make a commitment together that we will be the love that someone needs today.
When Worship is All About Me
I really hate this song.
And what, you may ask, is wrong with it? This song embodies the self-centered way in which we have come to worship. The word “I” appears 27 times in the lyrics, not counting repeats of the chorus. The song is also repetitive, dull, and selfish. The phrase “You are mine” in reference to Jesus makes me cringe every time. This song lacks any form of humility whatsoever.
It’s not that I have anything against songs that speak about our relationship to our Creator. The problem is when the song seems to turn things around so that I become the focus instead of God. Increasingly, praise and worship music falls flat. The lyrics are often what I call “pseudopoetic,” meaning they have metaphors that (I think) are supposed to sound brilliant but just end up coming across as nonsense. They repeat the same few lines endlessly. The tunes range from nearly impossible to follow to utterly boring. Like the song above, they draw the attention back to me, me, me–I’m saved, chosen, blessed (the implication being you’re not).
I’m not saying that old-fashioned hymns are the answer. (Although I do think it’s pretty telling that some songwriters are either putting old hymns in new settings or are putting music to the Psalms.) After all, hymns contain language we retired decades ago and may not be relevant for understanding God now. But we definitely need to move away from the garbage that is cluttering up our worship. We need real songs that actually draw us toward God Himself; we need songs that cry out what’s really inside us–the full range of human emotion and experience; we need music that makes us want to be part of God’s plan for the world.
Songwriters, here’s my challenge to you: Go out there and create something, a new way to praise our God!
Movie Review: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Last week, my husband and I watched The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. If you are a fan of C. S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia, my suggestion is that you simply not bother with this movie. Not only is it a poor rendition of the book, it’s not even a particularly good movie in general. It wasn’t awful; I’ve definitely seen much worse movies. There were enjoyable parts, and some of the actors are very good. But overall, I just didn’t end up feeling like it was worth two hours of my time.
The Good. As always, I loved the actress who plays Lucy in the films. She is just right for the part, and the writing for her character is good. I also thought the actor playing Eustace was good. I loved the film version of the ship itself. I don’t know much about ships, and I’ve always had a hard time quite picturing it as I read the story. My mind has now been expanded. Of the changes made to the story, one that I appreciated was the addition of Reepicheep teaching Eustace how to sword fight. Because there isn’t as much time for character development, and it’s hard to show on-screen, I liked the way it was handled with some key scenes.
The Bad. Although I thought some of the changes made a better film, and others made sense given the limitations of the medium, there were others that made no sense and didn’t add anything productive or enjoyable. For example, there was no need to change Rhince from first mate to a random man looking for his lost wife. The addition of a stowaway girl didn’t add much, either. She didn’t do anything interesting. As far as I could tell, that storyline was intended for the purpose of a heartwarming family reunion at the end of the film. Unfortunately, the reunion was not particularly interesting. It seemed forced, and the whole thing didn’t fit in with the plot. It was just badly executed. Although that part was an addition to the original story, it could have been done well; it just wasn’t in this case. The other unnecessary change was making poor Lord Bern a scraggly prisoner. I understand the need for a good battle scene (there aren’t any in the book). But I think that could have been accomplished while staying more faithful to the original story. At the very least, even with the changes, slave trade should have been done away with and, at minimum, Caspian should have knighted Lord Bern. Which, of course, brings me to…
The Ugly. The very worst thing about the movie (and the previous one, too, actually) is Caspian himself. Throughout the film, my husband and I couldn’t decide whether it was bad acting, bad writing, or a combination of the two. By the end of the movie, we determined it was definitely a combination, but the greater burden lies on the writing. Movie-Caspian is nothing whatsoever like Book-Caspian. He is, to be blunt, a jerk. His sense of humor and his kind, gentle nature have been lost in translation to the screen. Instead, he is little better than the usurper he has replaced as King. Sadly, this one change sucks the life out of the film. The other random changes would have been much more palatable had Caspian been more like himself. It doesn’t make any sense, either, as all the other characters retained their personalities from the books. He appears to be the only one who has had such a radical change.
The bottom line is, some changes, no matter how small, can entirely change the quality of a book-to-movie transition. In my opinion, if you want a good dramatization of the Narnia books, listen to the Focus on the Family Radio Theater production.
Keeping Our Commitments
I have often wondered what happened to making and keeping the commitments we make. I understand that these days, it can be hard to balance all the things we have going on. Yet it sometimes seems as though making empty promises has become almost trendy.
Part of the problem may be that there are impossible expectations placed on families. We’re supposed to work full-time, parent our children, and participate in a variety of family and individual activities. We are also supposed to eat healthy, homemade food, go to the gym, get enough sleep, volunteer in our communities, support good causes, and keep up on world and local events. For those of us who are religious, we must also be part of the life of our worship community. For our family, that means attending weekly church, bi-weekly services during the week, monthly prayer sessions, Bible study group, and volunteering within the church. It’s no wonder that many of us are in a fog over scheduling.
Another barrier is guilt. We feel guilty about the things we do because each one claims it ought to be top priority. How can we choose between religious activity and family, if the two don’t involve the same people? How can we choose between practicing music and exercise, when each one is developing an important part of ourselves? How can we choose which child’s game to attend, or whose recital is more important? It doesn’t help to hear messages like the one we regularly hear at church about the monthly prayer session. We’re told that if we don’t show up, it’s because we “don’t want to pray.”
To cope with these conflicting schedules and criticism, we double-book ourselves or make promises we can’t (or don’t even intend to) keep. We tell multiple people that we will show up, then find ourselves backing out because we simply can’t do it all. We wear ourselves out trying to be everything to everyone, or at least look like we are. But in the end, we leave messes for other people to clean up. Double scheduling also leads to guilt about having made promises to several people and having to back out of some or all of them.
I am proposing a radical shift in our thinking. We need to stop apologizing for making choices. We need to make single commitments to things, and do what we believe is right in a given situation. For us, that meant not attending prayer for much of the year. Our kids have activities at the same time, in opposite directions, during the same time slot as prayer. We made the choice that we can spend time in prayer alone, with each other, and with friends. We aren’t short-changing God. I don’t feel bad that we made that decision.
We also need to follow through with our commitments. I would imagine that should be easier once we choose between conflicting events. However, I think this is more difficult than it sounds. We’ve become so used to failing in this department that it will take discipline to manage everything once we do sort it out. In the end, though, it will be worth the effort.
Let’s become people who are true to our word.
Sunlight
Sometimes, we hide in the shadows. There are parts of ourselves we never want anyone to see. Not just our sin, but whatever about ourselves we see as unacceptable. Beliefs, values and opinions that we hold dear, but worry might bring trouble. Things we fear others will see and judge. Scars.
The shadows feel safe. And really, it’s ok to keep some things between ourselves and God. Not every part of my life needs to be on public display. Some things are meant to be shared only with those closest to us. Our friends bear our burdens with us, and that brings healing.
But those shadows can cripple us, too. They keep others from seeing us, yes, but that can mean we keep others from knowing us at all. When we have to hide who we really are, hide it from everyone in order to feel safe, then it crushes us. Each new lie we tell ourselves or others becomes another part of the wall holding us in. And when the truth about ourselves comes out, everyone is hurt in the explosion.
Will people judge us, belittle us, and hurt us? Maybe. But they might also accept us and welcome us, too. We won’t know unless we try. I know some of my dear friends are still in the shadows, afraid to be who God made them to be. My friends, you won’t find any judgment here. My prayer for you is that you will find the strength to fully become everything God created you to be, to have life to the full as God desires for you. I stand with you.
It’s time to step into the sunlight.
