Blast from the Past

I took the kids roller skating for the first time today. Today is the 10-month anniversary of our arrival in the United States, and we are still experiencing many firsts. One of my oldest son's friends had a birthday party at the skating rink, so I loaded all of the kids up in the car, and off we went.

I haven't set foot in a skating rink for at least 15 years, but when I walked in, not much had changed. Everyone skated the same direction, under the same flashing lights, with bathrooms that had not been updated in a number of years, and the same snack line. I took pictures with my cell phone of the kids skating - I use that term loosely, because all three of them were falling all over the place - and was sending them to my wife. In my haste to send one, I accidentally sent a photo to another friend, who asked me if they were playing Bon Jovi or Michael Jackson over the speaker system. Thus began a conversation that took us back to youth and childhood.

Roller skating is a blast from the past. It's part of who I am, but it's just a part. It doesn't define who I am. It helped, in some small way, make me who I am today, but it doesn't control who I am today.

The church, as well as the people in it, would be wise to learn this concept. Our past informs our future, but it does not define it. Who we have been is not who we are now, nor does it determine who God wants us to be. Too often, we live in the glory days of what once was, and forget that we do not live in that time or place. Natalie Sleeth says it well in Hymn of Promise: "From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery..." She does not say that our past is our future; but because the future is unfolding, we can learn from our past to shape our future.

If this concept wasn't true, we would still experience slavery and inequality between men and women. To a degree, this still happens, but thanks to the people who learned from their past and forged a new future, we no longer experience either issue to the extent of the generations before us. We honor the past and we learn from it, and then we continue forward into God's preferred future for us.

I used to love to roller skate. I was pretty good at it. I could skate forwards and backwards, had some good footwork, could win the limbo or "shoot the duck." Today, as I watched people play limbo and "Four Corners," I was grateful that I learned from my past, but it doesn't define me. I'm not the same person I was 15 years ago. I will not be the same person 15 years from now - because God is at work, making all things new. Thanks be to God for the experience of the past, the joy of the present, and the promise of the future!

MLK

It's the end of a long day, but one that I particularly enjoy each year. I look forward to the documentaries and the celebrations of Martin Luther King Jr.'s life. This year, it was even more of a special event, because it was the catalyst for talking about race relations in America with our children. The history of race relations in America only has an effect on them now - they are Ghanian, not African American. However, because it does affect them now, we have had the opportunity to discuss things like the Civil War, slavery, segregation, civil rights, the KKK, and the importance of Martin Luther King, Jr.

I had the privilege of taking a semester-long class on Martin Luther King, Jr. during my last year of seminary. We chronicled the events of his life, and looked specifically at his speeches and sermons. We listened to audio tapes and interviews, and met with people who were instrumental in the civil rights movement. I recall that I was really appreciative of the form of his sermons, and analyzed a number of them to discover his set pieces (particular stories or passages he would return to from time to time).

I came out of that class with a number of books containing his writings, sermons, and speeches. Since that class, I have made it a point to read at least some of those writings on his birthday. Today was no exception, and as I began to read A Knock at Midnight, I was reminded of how clear of an orator he was. As I read his opening paragraphs, I also was reminded that we have come a long way from the time of that address. The strides we have made toward racial equality in America are immense. Still, I couldn't help but think, as I read his opening lines, that much of what he addresses still needs to be carried out further - economic injustice, social and moral decline, among others. The words spoken for a time fifty years ago are still relevant to the time today. I guess that's what happens when a prophet speaks - it's timeless. Like Joel, Isaiah, and Jesus, King's prophetic words stand the test of time. They are as important now as they were 50 years ago, and will continue to speak to people for generations to come. Today, I give thanks to God for prophetic witness, and pray that I can be so bold in proclaiming our current reality and hope for the future.

Who Am I?

Today was a late start day for the boys' school district, so we let them sleep in, and I got our daughter up and ready for school. It's amazing how quickly she can get ready and eat in the morning without any other siblings - she was dressed, had eaten, and was in the bathroom in 35 minutes (it usually takes over an hour!). As we sat at the table eating our breakfast, I looked out the dining room window. The snow was stunning, shimmering on the ground and on the peaks of the homes across the road as the sun rose. I looked and thought to myself that, as impressive as the homes across the road are, they are nothing compared to the beauty and impressiveness of a newly fallen snow.

Just yesterday, one of my colleagues and I were conversing about God's omnipotence and divine plan. He asked me if humanity was really necessary for God's ultimate plan to come to fruition. Does God need us in order for the plan to become reality, or does God simply want us? We talked about several different angles of Scripture. At the end of the conversation, we hadn't resolved anything, but had really grown in our faith. As I looked across the snow-covered lawn this morning, it occurred to me that I can create some amazing things; I can do fantastic ministry; but anything I can do pales in comparison to what God can do. No plans I put into motion have the lasting impact that God's do. I must depend on God in order to do what I do; God doesn't depend on me to do anything, but I do believe that God wants me to participate in moving the plan forward.

More recent Christian musicians have raised questions in lyrics regarding this issue. Casting Crowns, in their hit Who Am I?, shares the amazement that the Lord of all the earth would care to know our names. Addison Road's What Do I Know of Holy raises a similar question: "What do I know of you who spoke me into motion?" God is bigger than I am, and so, whether I sing about it, or look out the window as the sun shines on snow, I know who I am. I am God's child, and the redemption of the world doesn't depend on me; but, God will still use me.

New Year...New Resolution?

Last year, I set my New Year's resolution to write on this blog every week. I didn't horribly fail at meeting my resolution. I wrote over 35 different posts, which is pretty good, considering that I did live in Ghana for five weeks, and I had this major life adjustment of bringing three children home.

Why do people make resolutions? I resolved to write this blog; we resolve to lose weight; we resolve to exercise more; to work less and play more; to pay off debt. Our list of resolutions can be long and tiresome, and unattainable. To me, the word resolve seems very formal and legal. In fact, "resolutions" proposed at annual conference sessions contain the phrase "therefore, be it resolved that..." Resolutions are legislation; and maybe that's where the rub is.

Resolutions expect perfection; they set us up to fail. Resolving to lose weight may well result in an additional 10 pounds and a bigger waist size. Resolving to write a blog weekly may result in resentment - blogging because one has to, not because someone wants to (that was not the case for me, most of the time). The pressure to keep the resolution drives us. "I must keep the resolution," and suddenly, keeping the resolution becomes a means to an end. There's no room for God's grace.

This year, I will not resolve to lose weight, get in shape, or blog each week. Instead, I'll ask God what God desires for my life; for my family's life. Then, I'll try to follow what God says. The path will be full of twists and turns, and sometimes, take me to places I don't want to go. However, God's grace will be sufficient for the journey, offering me forgiveness, sustenance, and strength.