James 1:6

A friend of mine just walked up to me and asked, "Did you read yet, Chuck?" Overlooking the fact that he called me "Chuck" (blech) that was one of the kindest and most frustrating questions I've been asked all day. It was kind because he had his heart behind it, he wanted to help me out. It was frustrating because I was about to go to bed, and because of the "Chuck" thing. I am really tired. I am really, really tired. I had a long day of classes, a long day of work, and a lot of homework to look after. The 20 minutes or so I was able to spend with my girlfriend were spent (wasted) in an argument. The argument lasted longer into the night, consisting of phone calls, online chats, and 2 emails. To be honest, it still hasn't really ended and I feel awful because it is entirely my fault. So with most of my homework put out of the way I was happily thinking of going to bed and then WHAM! He drops the question. So here I go. Here is what I read tonight.

But he must ask in faith without any doubting, for the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind. James 1:6

The thing asked for is Wisdom (look at vs. 5). It is something to be asked for in Faith. Not just any kind of Faith but a Faith that does not doubt, doesn't even contain the shadow of a doubt. This is not the normal kind of Faith. This is a very special Faith, and maybe that is why the world is filled with so few Wise men. "Are there many wise? Are there many noble?" Rhetorical question, to which, unfortunately, the answer is no. Doubt here is painted in a very negative light. It isn't necessarily always negative. It can be, but not always. Jesus gives room for doubt. Our Faith is often strengthened in our doubt. Apparently Wisdom is just one virtue that cannot coincide with doubt. It is the one virtue that will not be strengthened with a touch of doubt, instead it will weaken.

Word Choice and Context

Conquering Cynicism

Tonight I heard a man talk about the needs on secular college campuses. I really liked what he had to say. It sounded like something I might be useful in, and definitely something I'd be interested in. At the same time I didn't want to take it too far. After all, it's probably just one of those emotional tugs or experiential moments. It's something that will surely pass with time...or will it? I don't know, and I can't really know either. Perhaps the only way to really find out if it's for me is by making it mine. By simply going out there and doing the thing. If I don't go out and take some sort of action then I will just sit back and be complacent. If I'm expecting God to call me then I'm going to be doing a lot of waiting. God doesn't call, at least not anymore. Last thing I heard He gave us His word and told us to get down to business. He didn't tell us to wait for signs, or to somehow hear His voice or call. In fact, for me to ignore how I feel right now might be to ignore the Spirit. To ignore the Spirit and then to just lounge about waiting will eventually also quench the Spirit. Of course, I realize I've talked about feelings but these are positive feelings for a positive action with positive results. Even if it is undertaken selfishly, God will still use it for His own glory. What God doesn't want is for me to let my cynicism win out in the end. Unfortunately it usually does, will it win again?

Devotional Dilemma

I realize I've failed with my devotions these past few days. Three days straight without doing them. It's not due to senility, I've not just forgotten about them. No, I've actually just not done them. Maybe because I was in bed and didn't want to get out or maybe I just didn't really feel like it. Is that so terrible? After all, do I lose crowns by not doing my devotions? No, of course not, but, one might say, you do lose communion. I suppose that person might be equating a spiritual discipline with fellowship or communion with Christ. If devotions were about spending time with Christ in genuine devotion (not as a discipline) then I'd say they were right. Unfortunately all too often devotions are not about devotion or love but only about fulfilling a discipline. Here at my Bible College one of my profs recently confessed that he'd stopped doing devotions over 9 months ago. He explained that he just couldn't live having God "in a box" any longer. I'll be honest, I feel that way too. Part of me just wants to give it up, another part of me is too terrified of breaking the mold and then maybe being in the wrong by not doing devotions. But I don't think there is a "being in the wrong." If God is genuinely concerned about the heart attitude of things, which I think He is (after all, He said that there is plenty of lip service but not enough heart service), then I should be okay. My heart is not in my devotions any more, my heart is in a struggle even to love God. This has been a problem with me for years now. I just really dislike the idea of "doing devotions." God is not a task-oriented God. Well, I mean He might be, I don't know. But I do know that His priority is not in tasks but in relationships. That is why the Bible tells of meditating, studying, enjoying, and cherishing the Word. It never really tells us to read a verse or a chapter or a book or any amount every day. That's the other thing, every day! When I miss a day or two or more I feel bad. Guilt sweeps up on me and I know that is not the point of devotions and I know it is not God's purpose. Guilt is always a devil thing. But then if I do my devotions I am never really sure what I'm supposed to do. It's related, again, to how much I'm supposed to read. One reads a verse and walks away utterly satisfied, while another reads a chapter or a longer passage and also walks away satisfied. I read a verse, a chapter, or a passage and walk away sometimes still the same. Am I supposed to leave feeling encouraged? If so that is an experiential thing and that is not what being a Christian is about. It's not all about feelings. Feelings can be involved but they are not predominate. So what of facts? It's not really about facts either, at least not entirely. So there go both passion and intellect. Now what? I can learn something new, or I can be completely confused. I can feel good, or the same (or worse). I can...I don't know but I can do it. And maybe that's the problem. I can do it. But because it's me, because I can, it's not genuine. It's not about God. It's not about us. And God is so much bigger than the box we try to keep Him in, you know, that box we call devotions and applications and interpretations and who knows what else! So part of me wants to try out the old fashioned method of just going to Him or into Him when I feel like it or when I need to or when I have to or whenever. But another is telling me I need to keep to the structure. That I can't upset the balance (as if it were a circle of life or something). This other side is telling me that I have to do this and mainly because if I don't do what little I can do to put my own effort into this whole spiritual living thing then I might end up not doing anything at all. I wish I had some revival inside of me. Something that would make me genuinely enjoy the discipline of devotions. Or something that would make me quit them but still maintain a passion for being with Him and in Him and in His Word. Help...

James 1:5

But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him. James 1:5

The previous verse spoke of our not lacking anything. This verse seems to exempt that one, but also creates an escape clause for it. In this verse (vs. 5) we are told that we might lack wisdom. I think we do, at least I know I do. But thanks be to God who bestows His wisdom on us at all times, freely (both in the generous sense and in the literal sense). He also - I love this - does it without reproach. Sometimes I feel like I nag God with what I ask of Him. I'm like a bratty child who doesn't know when to shut up. God will never reproach me. He will never tell me to stop, or to shut up. He will not tell me I've asked enough or too much. He is a Father who desires to give good gifts. Parents on earth know to give fish instead of stones, as the gospels (Luke, I believe) suggest, but the idea is that our Heavenly Father is much more so adept at giving good gifts. That's who He is, it is a very intrinsic part of His nature to be a Giver. He gave His Son. He gave us life - twice! How much more than the wisdom to live our lives for Him, as He wants? That is, I suppose, what wisdom is all about. Knowing how to live your life, to live it out for God, but also knowing where to go to get the directions on how to make that happen. That is, I supposes, what wisdom is about, at least in part. It's going to God and then following Him through lie. Still, the beauty is that this verse is a promise even to us today. We need wisdom and we need to ask it of Him.

James 1:4

And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:4

Hmm. This verse seems a little sketchy. Endurance can produce a perfect result. I can accept that, but if it says that the perfect result is perfection, then I don't know if I agree. I mean, I'm not about to say that I disagree with the Bible, but my mind disagrees because it doesn't understand and is unable to reconcile Scripture-truth with "philosophy-truth." Maybe the second term (philosophy-truth) isn't the best choice of words, but it's the best I could come up with on such short notice. The reason I can't grasp that concept (of us becoming perfect) and have to grapple with it so much is because of the fact that perfection is, or so I believed, only to be achieved in Heaven. In fact, Salvador Dali once said, "Have no fear of perfection - you'll never reach it" (or something to that extent).

Because endurance is a "spiritual" virtue and because the context seems to be more ethereal I doubt the promise of "lacking in nothing" is a material promise. In fact, it contradicts other declarations of the New Testament that warn us that we will indeed suffer. Of course, those promises were for the Church and this book (James) was written to dispersed Jews (the diaspora). But that is a delicate argument as well, and I dare not wade into those muddy waters. So I return to the topic at hand. It is not a material promise. We will not lack nothing in the sense of physical or material riches (some might call them "blessings"), but we will not lack nothing in a spiritual sense. And, yes, I realize it is not lack "anything" and not, not lack nothing. I was simply trying to prove a point and do it more scripturally, if ungrammatically.

Basically I walk away with endurance is a very good thing. It is something we should pursue. Not that we should pursue trials to test our endurance, but that once in trial we should earnestly pursue endurance as our goal. To bear up under whatever it is that we have to deal with and to come out on the other side victorious is, I think, what endurance is about. So let's have at it. Let's endure under trial (or temptation) and be victorious because the promise is that the better we are at that and the more we develop that the more our own spiritual life develops so that in the end we will not lack anything (we might even be perfect).

Homesick about Heaven

Today has been a day ridden with severe pangs of homesickness. When I checked my mailbox I found I'd received a package from my sister. Among all the things in it there was a calendar with photos of Uruguay. This was probably the sharpest blow, but others added to it. A friend of mine from the Dominican Republic had a wedding (on the beach) and the photos for it on Facebook were incredible. These were the most evident reasons for my homesick but there were other one's as well, just that those other one's are more difficult to pinpoint. The problem for me and whenever I feel homesick is that I don't quite know what it means. I mean, I don't know what to do about it, but neither do I really know what it means. Songs such as "I Am, I Said" by Neil Diamond bring up the line "But nowadays, I'm lost between two shores." Or else the song "New York's Not My Home" by Jim Croce with the lines "That's the reason why I gotta get outta here, I'm so alone, that's the reason why I gotta get outta here, 'cause New York's not my home." So where is home? It's not New York, of course. It goes beyond that. Does it go to defining what culture I'd like to adopt? Or, perhaps more importantly, which culture would adopt me? After all, I am the one who feels lost between two shores, unsure of which one even wants me. It's not just a matter of which one I want, it's a matter of which one wants me. Neither of them make me feel completely welcomed or accepted. So, I'm now trapped between North and South America. If I lean towards North America I can choose from a variety of states, and if South America than I have to choose which country I want to belong to in the end. Perhaps I ought to go even further. It's not about New York, and it's not about whether I choose North or South America. The real issue is that I am not home, not yet at least. To throw in another song I might sing "Homeward Bound" by Simon & Garfunkel, because that is precisely the way I feel right now. I feel as if I was "homeward bound" and that the delay has just been way too long. I am speaking, of course, about Heaven. In my mind, Heaven is home. The implications of that are drastic, so drastic in fact that I don't even really want to think of them. To long for Heaven means abandoning everything on Earth. That is a difficult thing to ask of me because there is so much here that I genuinely love and long for, in the sense of ambitions and what not. But at the same time, as already noted, I don't feel at home and the grief that it sometimes causes me to be so trapped, to feel so "caught between two shores" is awful. That is why I am homesick, because I'm not home yet and I wonder sometimes if I ever will be.

James 1:3

Knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. James 1:3

Theoretical knowledge of theology is a dangerous thing. I know this verse. I actually know it by memory too! But I am not consciously aware of this, especially when it is actually happening. When my faith is actually being tested I do not know (or remember) that it produces or can produce a good thing, endurance. How do I reconcile what I know with the experience in which I no longer seem to know? I don't know.

I suppose I ought to be grateful to God for testing my faith. I don't know why He has to test that particular area. Couldn't He test me in something lighter and easier? I don't know what, but to test me in my faith seems a little dangerous. Not only is my faith the foundation to my life and my way of living but it is also a precarious foundation, still vulnerable. Perhaps He does it to produce that endurance, but the danger of a test is that if failed it does not produce a good grade or happy result. Is that the way God grades? He's not exactly saying "pass this test, the testing of your faith, and I will grant you endurance." He's saying "when your faith is tested you will produce endurance." That's a consolation, but it's still a mystery to me.

My First Setback

Okay, confession time. Last night I wrapped up my homework, tidied my room a bit and then, feeling rather tired, I snuck into bed. Once in bed I looked across my room at my desk and then remembered I'd not done my devos.

Part of me felt an urge to get up and just write something down real quick. That was the duty, honour, responsibility part of me. The other part of me felt something else. The second part felt the urge to just lay in bed and let sleep catch up on me. That was the lazy part of me.

As you can see by last night's post, or rather the absence thereof, the lazy part won out. I'm not proud of it, neither am I horribly disappointed. Perhaps I should be a little more disappointed, but I'm not. God doesn't judge me according to how often I read His Word. In fact, I don't think He judges me at all. The Bible actually promises that there is no longer any condemnation for me. He loves me no matter what.

But I did feel a trifle bad for not keeping up with my discipline and for letting laziness take control of my situation. Was it a sin? I don't know. I don't think it was a sin to not read my Bible. I do think laziness is a sin, so maybe that was a sin of mine.

Still, there's no going back and patching it up. I can't make up for lost time. If it was a sin, God forgives me. If it wasn't, then I'm all set. Either way He won't beat me up over it, and neither should I. Too often the devil makes us fall into the trap of undermining our own spiritual progress by comparison. I can compare myself to this holy person who read the Word every day and was borderline perfect. The victorious and great giants of the faith always seemed to be immersed in the Scriptures and knowledgeable of them. To reach that level, imitate them. I think the one we are supposed to imitate is the One who saved our souls. Not man.

Nevertheless I think I am approaching this with unfair expectations. I had devos two days straight and yet I still sinned. I can't help it. Jesus can, He promised to help me in everything. But in and of myself, I can't help it. The problem is I don't really want to either. I want the easy way out, a short-cut, if you will. That short-cut might be just reading a little bit of Bible every day and signing off on my time-with-God checklist. I think that not sinning has to do with "hiding" His Word in our hearts. Not just ritualizing a verse here and there and expecting a miracle cure. But then again, I'm still processing. Still learning.

James 1:2

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials. James 1:2

Now let me think about this for a while. When was the last time I really faced a trial? I mean, really faced a trial? Okay, they aren't all that easy to think up. At least not any recent ones, but maybe that's because our lives are so much easier. I mean it's gotten a lot more comfortable without having to put up with the persecutions and other unpleasant aspects of the early Church. Perhaps that comfort is also what has led to our complacency. All of this of course goes on a downhill slope, and pretty fast too. The comfort opens up to complacency and the complacency opens up to complaining. Now whenever I do have a trial how do I respond? Is it with joy, or is it with complaints?

I hate to say this but sometimes even Church has become a trial for me. It's so early. It's so boring. It's so repetitive, especially if you've done it all your life. Originally Christians would thrive off of going to Church and it was the highlight of their life. Now, it is just another chapel message except for it's on a Sunday instead of mid-week (that's for all the BBC students out there).

The happy stories seem to make it worthwhile, you know, that whole "consider it joy" bit. Yeah, I mean if I go through a trial and come out victorious or somehow better because of it than, yeah, I can consider it joy. But that joy is almost as a consequence. To go through a trial and come out better is to go through it and still come out rejoicing. That is the proof of a trial's true worth. It is not in the trial itself, whether it's grad A hard or a lower grade of hardness. That's not it at all. No, the true test of a trial is in whether or not I can rejoice through it all. Can I? Even if there is no apparent victory (other than the un-lost joy), can I still rejoice?

James 1:1

This is my first day doing my devos online. I've chosen to start off with James. There isn't any real reason to choosing this book other than it's one of my favourites. Well, perhaps I shouldn't say that for it might be that the Spirit is leading me here and I'm just not aware of it, as usual. So here we go.

James 1:1

James, a bond-servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes who are dispersed abroad: Greetings.

Okay, here's what I see first of all - a name, James. This James just so happens to be the very brother of Jesus, as in His literal flesh-and-blood brother. Instead of promoting himself and bragging about who he is he humbly declares himself God's bond-servant, and calls Jesus not his brother but his Lord.

This book is written to the 12 tribes of Israel. Does that mean that it is not written for us? If we relied completely on context it might mean that, but at the same time we are called to study the entire counsel of the Word of God. This book is definitely for us. It's for me. I need it, I mean, I really need this book.

It is written to the 12 tribes but not the static ones in Jerusalem but rather the ones cast out (many of them literally outcasts). He is writing to the "diaspora."

He ends by saying "Greetings." Now this is interesting, it's not the regular Jewish form of greeting. It is not shalom, meaning peace. No, this is the Greek form of greeting and it has to do with cheerfulness or joy. Even though they were in the "diaspora" he still encourages them.

Devotional Accountability

Okay. Here's the problem. I hate accountability. I absolutely hate it. I don't like people getting involved in my life. I hate the tough questions. Why? I don't really know. Maybe because the answers have to be true, and if they are true they are embarrassing. Embarrassing to my own sense of pride or self-worth. You see, in accountability cases I always have to be honest about my flaws and of my struggles. They are usually things I know (or think) I can overcome. They are things in which I have a teeter-totter of hope that usually ends up leaving me defrauded. Because of that I have learned to hate accountability. There might be other reasons, but that's the most important one. The fact that I have been betrayed by past accountability partners hasn't helped, but the real problem is that I am too afraid of opening up. I'll be the first to acknowledge that this is not a healthy attitude. To remedy the situation I've decided to undertake a new challenge - online devotions. I am about to begin blogging my devotions on this same site. I don't know if it will work or how well it will work, but I'll give it a try anyways. Let's see what happens. As a writer, as amateur as I might be, I have an easier time opening up on paper. It might not come out well, but at least it comes out. By no means do I claim to have a "gift" for writing, this is really only a preference for writing. It is also a preference over "real" accountability, the face-to-face kind. So from here on out I am about to record my devotions. The purpose of this blog was originally to tell about my spiritual thoughts (or interferences). I took a few months off to seek after God in a new way. It was a serious search, an honest search. Many times I found Him in music or in literature or in other venues and would then write down my own thoughts about the matter. Now I realize that the greatest source for more of God is in His own word. Duh! Think about it, His word is His very own self-revelation. It shouldn't get much easier than that. At the same time, my devotional life has been much like my blog life, a roller-coaster. Yup. A spiritual roller-coaster and an online roller-coaster, or a writing roller-coaster. I suppose my life is like that in nearly all disciplines. I mean I don't think twice about brushing my teeth every morning. It's just the force of habit for me now. But my devotions have not yet become a habit, and I'm not sure that I really want them to, but I do want them to be more consistent. So on this blog I will now record my nightly (or daily) devotions. I may continue to post other things, in fact I more than likely will continue to post other things. But my new focus is now devotional maintenance. For you as the reader some of my devos maybe beneficial , some may be controversial (and I welcome the challenge), but in the long run what I expect from you as my reader is that you help keep me accountable. Be prepared, I may fail. In fact, I more than likely will. Here and there I might miss a day (or more than a day), but hopefully I will keep coming back. Of course this isn't going to last a lifetime, so at some point I will simply shut it down and, hopefully, keep on doing devos on my own. Until then, here goes.