Coram Deo Blog
Archive for December 2007
30 December 2007 at 3:28 pm by Bob Thune · ecclesiology
In today’s sermon I contrasted an institutional view of the church with an incarnational view of the church. The diagrams below illustrate the differences in these models.
Note: this discussion was part of a broader sermon, so it might be helpful to listen to the sermon to gain the fuller context (theology –> philosophy –> methodology).
Here are some contrasts we drew:
- An institutional model seeks to build members; an incarnational model seeks to build missionaries
- An institutional model tends toward separatism (leave the world to go to church); an incarnational model teaches integration of faith and life (be the church in the world)
- An institutional model has the goal of moving people up; an incarnational model has the goal of moving people out
- An institutional model tends to breed consumers (member mindset); an incarnational model tends to breed contributors (missionary mindset)
Permalink
19 December 2007 at 11:15 am by Kendal Haug · advent
On Sunday we said that Advent is a journey to Joy, but it is not us who are traveling. Rather, it is Joy that is coming to us. As we prepare a way for the Lord, and God’s glory is revealed, it is Joy that comes. For as we experience the glory of God from being in His presence, there we will experience the effects of His glory: Joyful worship.
Advent is a time when our longings are heightened. Our longings for hope, peace, joy, and love. Our longings for wrongs to be set right, for a return to Eden, and for our Savior to return. Ultimately our longings are for Jesus Christ to come again and bring the Kingdom of God to earth as it is in Heaven (Mt. 6:10). The coming of the Kingdom is this return to Eden…
“The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.” -Matt 13:44-46
We have been communally singing a song this Advent season that celebrates the fact that Jesus Christ came into our brokeness bringing redemption for those who believe. It reflects the fact that the King of Creation has made himself known by the revelation of Jesus. Some of the meaning of the lyrics are not so upfront, so reflect and reply.
LYRICS FOR REFLECTION
Here is Our King by David Crowder
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
From wherever spring arrives to heal the ground
From where ever searching comes to look itself
A trace of what we’re looking for so be quiet now, and wait
The ocean is growing
The tide is coming in
Here it is:Here is our King
Here is our Love
Here is our God who’s come to bring us back to him
He is the one, He is Jesus
And what was said to the rose to make it unfold
Was said to me, here in my chest
So be quiet now, and rest.
Majesty! Finally!
Permalink
18 December 2007 at 12:56 pm by Kendal Haug · bgt
Click to enlarge
Permalink
17 December 2007 at 10:03 am by Will Walker · advent
Advent is a season of hope, remembering the longing of God’s people for Messiah and rekindling our own desire for Christ’s return. It is a time of reflection and preparation, both of which require us to enter in, forsaking the usual hustle and bustle of the holiday season.The last two weeks have invited our reflection, considering this question: “What do I long for now?” Our weak desires have been exposed by the powerful images and stories of God’s mighty deeds throughout history. We have been confronted with our day-to-day cravings, which often have little to do with Jesus’ coming reign of peace and justice.
Our only recourse in these times of searching for hope has been to plead the cry of Advent: “Come, Lord Jesus, Come.” Come and revive our spirit, lift our eyes to the God of hope, and to Christ, our hope of glory.
Now in the last two weeks of Advent we shift from reflection to preparation, from longing to anticipation. The clouds are breaking. Morning is coming. We are entering into the long-awaited joy of annunciation.
The angel said to Mary, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; He will be called Son of God.”
The stories of Jesus’ birth are filled with hints of what His life will mean for us. Faith and generosity overcome impossibility. Poverty and persecution reveal glory.
During this Christmas season, a time when we anticipate and receive gifts, let us be renewed in our sense of wonder and joy as we fix our hope on the gift of God: foretold by the prophets and the angel Gabriel, conceived in the virgin Mary, and celebrated by John the Baptist in his womb. “For nothing will be impossible with God”
SCRIPTURE READING: Luke 1:26-56
HYMN: COME, THOU LONG EXPECTED JESUS
Come, Thou long expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel’s Strength and Consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear Desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.
Born Thy people to deliver,
Born a child and yet a King,
Born to reign in us forever,
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.
By Thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
By Thine all sufficient merit,
Raise us to Thy glorious throne.
Permalink
11 December 2007 at 11:40 pm by Will Walker · advent
My apologies for the lack of Advent posts this week. I was sick, and now I am tired 
This is a re-post from Advent ‘06, based on Mark 15:16-26.
“Carrying the Cross of Peace”
The way the story reads it seems that this man, Simon of Cyrene, was inconsequential, a mere bystander, a wrong-place-wrong-time casualty. I imagine that he was simply going about his business as usual – doing the day’s tasks, thinking of things that interest him, and talking to friends – when he stopped to see what all the commotion was about. And that, of course, is how he got dragged into the mess.
It’s the day-to-day aspect of Simon’s life that intrigues me. What was “peace” to him? If he was anything like most of us, I would say that peace in his mind had to do with preserving a certain quality of life and avoiding hardship as much as it was up to him to do so.
We have notions of peace for people and places beyond our immediate community, sure, but these are often little more than passing wishes for an ideal that seems out of reach, or at least out of our reach. Best to just focus on what is at hand.
What is “at hand” is precisely the issue. God is among us, burning in bushes, walking along the road to Emmaus, blowing like the wind. This is at the heart of Jesus’ message: “The kingdom of God is at hand”. Advent is an invitation to remember this proclamation, to turn aside, to open our eyes, and be filled.
Year after year Advent passes me by. I never stop to look. Too many other concerns: presents, year-end work, family, parties … business as usual. But this year I risked a look, and out from the commotion came this question: “What do I long for now?”
The general tone of Advent is one of excitement, the giddy anticipation of a child for Christmas morning. But as an adult there is an element of sober reflection concerning our present longing, or lack of it. Do I long for peace? Is my notion of peace really something else altogether? What do I long for now?
I tried to escape this question, but somehow I got talked into carrying these words around. And now they have become a heavy load. The things I had to do, the longings I had, the burdens I was already carrying, all of it now subject to this cross, all of it now inconsequential in comparison to the coming of our Lord.
My day-to-day definition of peace – “as much happiness and as little pain as possible” – is crumbling under the weight of these words. The ages of longing in God’s people, the groaning of creation, the intercession of the Holy Spirit, the collective anticipation of the heavenly host— all of it is mounting up in theses words, compelling me to leave the crowd of onlookers and join the company of those who carry the cross. The ones who have turned aside and been dragged into this mess. The heavy-hearted and expectant ones, whose song has become the chorus of advent: “Come, Lord Jesus, come.”
SCRIPTURE READING: Isaiah 9:1-7
Permalink
10 December 2007 at 10:32 am by Bob Thune · advent
Peace is a much more complex reality than we generally think. The visions of peace in our culture tend to fall into one of two categories: the hippie-rock-star vision of peace and the new-age-psychotherapy vision of peace.
For the hippie-rock-stars, peace = “world peace.” Nonviolence. The absence of war. No nation-states fighting with each other. No armed conflict. In this vision of peace, the obstacles to peace are all external. If governments could “just get along,” we would truly have peace on earth.
For the new-age-psychotherapists, peace = “inner peace.” A positive self-image. Personal fulfillment. If everyone in the world could believe in themselves, be released from their mental and emotional baggage, find healing and centeredness, and self-actualize, then we would truly have peace on earth.
Both these conceptions of peace are too shallow, simplistic, and superficial to carry the freight of peace. As always, the biblical worldview succeeds where these cultural impostors fail. The Hebrew Scriptures speak of peace as shalom – a word which, according to the Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, “has a semantic breadth that cannot be conveyed adequately by any single English word.” It is well-being, wholeness, harmony in its fullest sense. When all of life is knit together like a fabric – when there is peace and harmony across every aspect of life and society (political, military, legal, social, religious, agricultural, economic, familial, etc) – that is shalom.
And the obstacle to shalom is neither internal nor external – or perhaps, the obstacle is not simply internal or external. The obstacle is sin. And sin is complex. Richard Lovelace describes sin as “an organic network of compulsive attitudes, beliefs, and behavior deeply rooted in our alienation from God.” Sin has disrupted shalom. It has alienated us from God and from each other. It has unraveled the fabric of God’s good creation. And so if we are ever to experience peace, we need more than a cease-fire between nations or personal psychological fulfillment. We need someone to restore shalom – to renew the world (and us) to the way we were meant to be.
Today we consider the prophetic longing for such a peace-bringer.
Readings: Micah 5:1-5; Zechariah 9:9-10; Isaiah 9:6-7
Song for Reflection: “Peace on Earth” by U2
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
Permalink
9 December 2007 at 7:32 am by Bob Thune · brokenness
Family members of gunman Robert Hawkins issued a statement Saturday in response to the Westroads Mall shooting.
The statement was released to The Associated Press through the Rev. Mark Miller of Faith Presbyterian Church in La Vista, where Hawkins’ father, stepmother and older sister are members.
In the statement, relatives of the 19-year-old gunman say they hope the community can heal.
The statement reads: “The Hawkins family extends its sincerest condolences to all those impacted by this senseless and horrible event. While no words can ease the pain and grief, our family prays that at some time, in some way, our community can be healed in the aftermath of this terrible tragedy.”
Considering the Biblical idea of shalom which we discussed on Sunday, I am wondering what you think of the statement above. Are there aspects of the family’s statement that you find good and helpful? Or does the statement leave you wanting more? What aspects of biblical shalom are or are not present?
Permalink
8 December 2007 at 11:51 am by Will Walker · advent
We have been considering the elements of hope, especially as they are seen in the Exodus story. One question I have as I read that story is this: “Why so much drama?” If God wanted to deliver His people, why a burning bush and weird signs and plagues and parting the sea? Surely there was an easier way that would not have necessitated so much human involvement.
The reason our participation in what God is doing is so important is that it strengthens our hope. Participation is to hope what momentum is to a snowball.
To put it another way: If I promised Ethan (my son) that I am going to build him a tree house, I could simply build it on my own while he is off playing and doing other things. He may think of the tree house now and then, but for the most part he will be preoccupied with whatever he is doing at the moment. And when it’s done he would no doubt enjoy it. But if I involve him in the building, everything changes. It’s on his mind. He thinks about it even when he is not doing it. He has a vested interest now. He has ownership in the outcome. And when it’s complete, his joy is far greater than if I had simply done it myself.
God invites our participation in what He has promised because He wants the promise to be on our minds. He wants us to have a vested interest. He wants our joy to be made full!
The hope of Israel was based on God’s promise. In the face of mystery they rooted themselves in the foundation of God’s might deeds throughout history. They saw themselves as the people of God, through which the Messiah would come, participants in the redemptive story written by God.
The writers of Scripture – and God himself — want us to tell and retell the mighty deeds of God in history. They want us to lose ourselves in the redemptive story, and to discover our role as those who wait for and hasten the coming of Christ again (1 Peter 3:12).
To know that Christ is our hope is good doctrine. But to explore the Christ of our hope in story and symbol and practice is to work the truth of hope deep into the fabric of our being, where truth becomes meaningful and good doctrine becomes Good Life.
As we remember the coming of Jesus and anticipate his coming again, we participate in the kingdom at hand. We do not linger passively as those who wish for everything to suddenly be made right with our world, but rather as God’s people who usher in the kingdom to come … on earth as it is in heaven.
Reflection and Prayer: We repent of all that keeps us form the work of God’s kingdom on earth (fear, insecurity, selfishness, ignorance, laziness, etc.), and we express our desire for God to use us in His works of mercy, reconciliation, justice, service, worship, etc. We are praying for God’s kingdom of come on earth – in our lives, our relationships, our church, and our city – as it is in heaven.
Scripture Reading: Psalm 51:1-12, Matthew 28:18-20, Matthew 5:13-16, 2 Thes. 2:16-17
Permalink
6 December 2007 at 10:27 am by Bob Thune · brokenness
Yesterday eight people in our city were shot and killed in an act of random violence. Omaha is still reeling as we deal with the aftermath of the tragedy. The phones at Coram Deo have been ringing with people calling from all over the world to see if we’re OK and to register their prayers for our church and our city. In the midst of it all, I feel burdened as a pastor to write or say something meaningful. And yet I don’t know what that something is.
There is a gossamer line between meaningful and trite. Saying nothing at all will seem passive and disengaged from the pain and longings of people in our city. Trying to draw shades of gospel meaning from an act of egregious violence will seem shallow and opportunistic. (That doesn’t mean I don’t believe the gospel speaks to this event – it does. But sometimes the most gospel-centered response to tragedy is imitating our Savior who “was silent, as a sheep before its shearers” – Is. 53:7.) The challenge of responding to an event like this – and of expressing all that the Christians in our community are thinking and feeling – is daunting.
Three young women in our church work at the store where the shootings took place. Others from our church work in the same mall. We are thankful today that none of them were hurt. And yet we wonder at the mysteries of God’s providence: why did he preserve their lives and not the lives of others?
A situation like this does not bring answers to mind; it only heightens longing. During this Advent season we remember Christ’s coming and hope for his return. The idea of longing – the tension between the already and the not-yet – has colored my own thinking and prayer as I seek to be a priest to my city in the wake of tragedy. Perhaps my own longings will give expression to those resting in the souls of other readers.
I long for the redemption of families, to reverse the trend of troubled teens from homes with passive or absent dads who haven’t taught their sons how to be men. And I long to be used by God in bringing this redemption.
I long for the redemption of culture, to reverse the trend of passivity toward violence and evil. Those who blame these events on the accessibility of guns or the prevalence of violent video images or the breakdown of ethics are all partially correct. A culture steeped in consumerism and pluralism, unwilling to call anything “evil,” will erode from the inside out. I long to be used by God to bring gospel-driven renewal to culture.
I long for the gospel to take root in the church, so that we will have deep and meaningful things to say (or not say) in moments of tragedy. It would be a great step forward if Christians (not media pundits or therapists) were reputable interpreters and counselors in these situations.
I long for justice. When the shooter turns the gun on himself, there is a strange miscarriage of justice. Though the perpetrator is dead, the families of the victims are deprived of due process in the carrying out of justice. Our longing for a day of divine justice, meted out by a God who is holy and fair in all his dealings, is heightened.
Most of all, I long for peace on earth – the theme of this week’s Advent observance. I think today, our church community and our city long for peace in a totally different way.
Permalink
5 December 2007 at 4:03 pm by Will Walker · advent
Hope is tested when things do not happen the way we think they should or when we think they should, and perhaps that is when mystery turns from awe to doubt.
Hope is a future-oriented term, but it is grounded in past events. In the Old Testament, hope for the Messiah was anchored in God’s mighty deeds in history. This is why their concept of Messiah was closely linked with terms like “Deliverer”.
In fulfilling His promise to Abraham (Genesis 12:1-3), God delivered the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt and led them into the Promised Land. The Exodus event formed the basis of hope for the people of God. They told the story over and over again.
After Moses exhausts his arsenal of excuses, and after he basically accuses God of coming up short on his promise, God’s replies to Moses. God’s response is not about Moses’ doubt, but rather God appeals to the foundation of His promise, namely, the trustworthiness of His promise, and His ability to perform great deeds on earth (Exodus 6:1-8).
What we see over and over in the Bible is that true hope is not tested against our ability to hope, but rather against the foundation of God’s ability to deliver. Jean-Paul Sartre, a famous philosopher and atheist, said a month before he died that he so strongly resisted feelings of despair that he would say to himself, “I know I shall die in hope.” Then in profound sadness, he would add, “But hope needs a foundation.” Without a foundation we have only wishful thinking or personal ability.
If we are weak in hope, perhaps we have vested our hope it in weak things: wealth, possessions, reputation, relationships. Perhaps these are the things we long for now. Let us renew the hope of Advent in our hearts by remembering the mighty deeds of God, not least of which is coming into our world. Come again, Lord Jesus. We await your return.
Scripture Reading: Psalm 105
Lyrics for Contemplation: Seven Swans by Sufjan Stevens
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
We didn’t sleep too late.
There was a fire in the yard.
All of the tress were in light.
They had no faces to show.
I saw a sign in the sky:
Seven swans, seven swans, seven swans.
I heard a voice in my mind:
I will try, I will try, I will try.
I will try, I will try, I will try.
We saw the dragon move down.
My father burned into coal.
My mother saw it from far.
She took her purse to the bed.
I saw a sign in the sky:
Seven horns, seven horns, seven horns.
I heard a voice in my mind:
I am Lord, I am Lord, I am Lord.
He said: I am Lord, I am Lord, I am Lord.
He said: I am Lord, I am Lord, I am Lord.
He will take you. If you run,
He will chase you.
He will take you. If you run,
He will chase you
’cause He is the Lord.
‘Cause He is the Lord…
Seven swans, seven swans, seven swans,
seven swans, seven swans…
Permalink
next entries »
