Which is truly bliss?

The erratic thumping was like fingernails on a chalkboard. As I stole glances to my left and right, I found that my frustrations were not shared. Hands were raised, eyes closed, mouths were moving with smiles at the corners. Unhindered by the lack of rhythm, the congregation was engaged. Their spirits seemed to rise above the drummer's shortcomings and join in harmony with the moving of the Spirit.

As a drummer, I occasionally survey the church body. When our worship team is leading, I find myself drawn to seek affirmation on the faces of other drummers. (Who? Me? Self-conscious?) Quite frequently, I notice that other musicians have more difficulty "entering in" during the music time of worship. I have a theory...

Eating chicken off-the-bone was ruined for me after a couple years of university. As a requirement for one of my kinesiology classes, I had to dissect a cat. I don't like cats and it didn't bother me to see them lifeless on the table, but when we opened them up (sorry if you're reading this while eating) the muscle structure appeared far too similar to that of chicken meat. Now, when I bite into a piece of chicken, all I'm seeing are the striations in the muscles, the connective tissue and the blood vessels. Needless to say, I enjoyed chicken an awful lot more before I learned about what I was eating.

This is much like my affectedness in music worship. I am very easily distracted. The slightest missed beat or flamboyance takes me right off-center and my communion with God is blocked. (Let me pause to say that this shouldn't be an excuse, it is a shortcoming of mine.) However - like my chicken problem - I think that my understanding of drumming makes me more likely to scrutinize rather than fully join in.

This got me to thinking about the old adage of ignorance being bliss. I envy the non-musicians who can get lost in our half-hour of praise and worship even when a dolt like me is banging and crashing to his own beat. I am jealous of those who can tuck into a juicy leg of turkey without thinking about how blood once flowed through that meat to give the bird movement.

My thoughts are trying to make another connection. Jesus encourages us to have a child-like faith. In fact, it's even more than an encouragement, it's a requirement, "I assure you: Whoever does not welcome the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." The virtues of innocence are repeated, "Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child--this one is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Consistent with Jesus' opposition to humanity's norm, the innocence, (ignorance?), of a child is elevated to a position of high esteem in God's kingdom. So what is the value of intelligence? Surely we're not called to be the mental-equivalent of the sheep our Shepherd seeks to tend. Does God want kingdom-dummies?

I do believe that earthly knowledge can become a barrier between man and God. The antonym to child-like faith could be the jaded cynic; one who is scarred by experience. The accumulation of knowledge can become a journey to independence. While this may sound like a worthy slogan for academia, the dependence on God can become the casualty. A rise in human wisdom can come at the cost of abandoning Godly wisdom.

Having said all of this, I don't believe that we are called to be dumb. We are warned to be, "...wise as serpents and innocent as doves." My theology of snakes is weak, but the picture I get is that we're supposed to be well-armed with an understanding of the world's ways. However, we're supposed to find a way to rise above it and maintain our innocence.

Herein lies the challenge... How do we train our minds to be intelligent, while maintaining the innocence necessary to take our God at full value? I believe that the ultimate intelligence is the understanding that there is a God whose intellect will never be understood, let alone equalled. The concession of God's greatness isn't a sign of academic frailty, rather it is the ultimate lesson learned. In that point, the road to understanding isn't limited to the Rhodes Scholar, but neither is it negated by human learning.

Once again, the road to God is Jesus; accessible to the brilliant and the bone-headed.

Back to the original problem... How do I get past my human nature to be critical of that which I have some understanding? Well, the answer is in the understanding the question. I need to give myself to my supernatural God, forsaking my natural inclinations. My understanding of drumming has become a barrier to consistent participation in music worship, but that barrier is not insurmountable. My human strengths are my heavenly weaknesses, but I am confident that God can change me when I ask for help.

Fear...

2Timothy 1:7 - For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.

It's a weird time for the Buzzas right now. We're a very blessed family. We haven't been through a lot of trials and tribulations, so - as I said - this is a weird time for us.

As you know, mom is going through the final stages of her chemotherapy treatment. This would normally be enough to get anybody flustered, and - when you add the stress of her dad's health problems right now - it's understandable to feel stress.

My niece, Julia, is also having a rough go of it lately. It's believed that she's got some form of botulism. She's less than a year old, so - obviously - this is causing some concern.

CaraLee and I were up talking last night about fear and worry. It's hard seeing those you love in tough times like these.

The following observations are not meant to be an inditement on anybody's reaction to their circumstances - especially not my family's - but rather an encouragement to see fear for what it is.

Fear is a very human reaction to things out of our control. Worry, fear's closest companion, is the by-product. Both are crippling tools employed by the devil. (I know that I've lost many of you with that comment, but it's true.) There is a very spiritual element to our common fears and worries. It's pretty black and white... "God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. " We are called to trust in God for all things. Without Him, we are left to our own, human devices which naturally fall to fear, timidity and worry.

We have even assigned some nobility to worrying for others. We call it "showing concern". I live in a hub of very thoughtful people - a group of which I can't claim membership with. Their maternal (most of them are women) instincts are nurturing and caring. I believe that this is the grayed-line that separates caregivers from worriers. I believe that it is possible to bring courage to others without being fearful. In fact, encouragers - like the group of people I just mentioned -
can't - by definition - give courage in a spirit of fear.

CaraLee made a very insightful observation last night. She said that when we give in to fear and worry, we're short-changing God. We're turning our backs on the price He's paid for us; refusing the gift He's given us. (It's a paraphrase... it was late.)

None of us Christians who deal with fear and worry think of it like that, I'm sure. But maybe we should. Luke 12:25 says, "And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?" Worry is useless. In fact, it's worse than useless. It works against God's gift of "power, love and self-discipline."

Show and Tell...

Remember show-and-tell? Other than recess, that was my favorite part of the school day. Every Friday during my third grade year, I would eagerly await my turn to wow and amaze my classmates with various trinkets that only a group of eight-year-olds would find fascinating.

Looking back now, I realize that they were just an easy audience—anything I brought was more exciting than “reading, writing and arithmetic.” Heck, at that age pocket lint was more exciting.

So what’s with all this reminiscing about my glorious elementary school days? Well, for the first time in my life, I feel a bit like one of those show-and-tell trinkets. Let me explain. My husband and I are missionaries, and we’re home on our very first furlough. We have four months to speak at churches, attend missions conferences and see our family and friends. So it probably comes as no surprise that those who love us most want to parade us around and show us off like they would a new Hummer. (What is with those cars anyway? Can we say American excess exemplified?) Most of the time, their intentions are good and understandable. Our parents are proud of us and want everyone to know what we are doing. Plus we have a couple of pretty good looking kids that they are extremely proud of.

But I have to confess that the spotlight they shine on us makes me uncomfortable. Even the way we get introduced to people is awkward. “This is Mentanna. She is a missionary in France. She tells people about Jesus.” Who gets introduced like that? No one knows how to respond, and the reactions I get are as varied as the products on the cereal aisle at Wal-Mart. (Have I mentioned American excess yet?) My favorites are the stuttering, incoherent replies that mention something about an aunt in Africa that knew a missionary once.Anyway, I digress. People's responses to my occupation aren’t really where I am headed. My point is that people tend to make a big deal out of the fact that I am a missionary. Everywhere I go, I get introduced to pastors, deacons, church matriarchs, ministers and any other Christian who has ever used the word "mission" in a sentence. I don't like being treated like we are the MVPs of the kingdom. Actually, I hate it. You see, I know my heart. I know my struggles. I am in tune with my cesspool. Missionaries aren't the spiritual elite of the church. There is nothing special about what I do. I am not worthy of the attention I receive. (This isn't my attempt at false modesty.) Aren't we all called, gifted and sent among a people to be a display for God's glory? Just because I do it in a different country doesn't make me special; it just makes me different. I don't want any Baptist backslapping for the fact that I tell people about Jesus in a different language. I don't want to hear about sacrifice. I don’t want to be applauded. I just want to talk with other missionaries and hear stories of how they live out their faith among their neighbors, in their own homes or when selling Mary Kay.We are all in this together. We are all called. We are all depraved people in the process of becoming like the one who transforms us and makes us look enough like him to attract a thirsty world. There are no MVPs, no stars. That is the great thing about Christianity. God is the hero, Jesus the MVP, and we are all just groupies. The world has forgotten what it means to be wowed and awestruck. They have seen a lot of pocket lint. Let's make Jesus the focus of our show-and-tell and return wonder to its rightful owner.
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I really enjoyed this article for the simple fact that it points the light back on us. This might sound like the opposite of what the author intended, but I'm talking about our responsibility to spread the gospel. Being a missionary seems like such a lofty calling, for which few are gifted. However, unlike some spiritual gifts which are doled out strategically by our Creator, the Great Commission is meant for all of us who are Believers.

Once again, this article was retrieved from Relevantmagazine.com. I encourage any of you who are willing to be challenged in your faith to visit the site or pick up a magazine.

More on love...

“ This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. ” (1 John 4:10)

Being a parent, I have a new perspective on what love is.

The love I have for my wife is enhanced - shall we say - by the feelings she gives me. Again, there is a very selfish element to my love for her. When I was thinking about it, I figured that the love I have for my extended family (especially my parents) is more of a selfless love. After further review, I realized that I love my parents because they first loved me. It's a reactionary love based on what they've done for me.

Granted, in both cases there is a strong element of agape love. The thing I wonder about though, is whether or not that love would hold strong if my parents weren't loving toward me, or if my wife was less than loving. It's that uncertainty that brings me back to my analogy of love with my kids.

My three kids could never do anything to stop me from loving them. I'll pause to acknowledge the fact that my oldest boy is only 6, and that I don't know the trials that some people go through with their children. However, I really believe that there's nothing that my kids could do to cause me to question my love for them. The interesting thing is that this love began before they were even breathing air.

My feelings for my kids are not based on anything they've done or not done. At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, my kids are my creation. (Granted, I had some help.) Similarly, we are God's creation and He looks at us with that same kind of love. So much so - in fact - that He gave His only Son as a sacrifice so that we could be with Him some day.

Now that is true love.

Wuv... twoo wuv...

A classic line from a classic movie, "The Princess Bride". Peter Falk plays the speech-impaired bishop who is set to wed the heroine and the villain. I thought it might be a more clever title than "true love".

Despite the fact that this piece of art looks like a heart-shaped burger wrapped in wire, I thought it was pretty cool. (Hmm... it is Valentine's Day and it is almost lunch... ) It also does a good job of demonstrating the human concept of love.

Human love is selfish. I think it's a description of an emotion we feel in reaction to something. We love how things make us feel. A kiss, (ewww... this is so Valentine's), a hug, even a burger. I love burgers.

Even when we describe relationships, the word love is reserved when we feel a connection emotionally. Especially in younger relationships, (younger not always being defined chronologically), love is what you feel when you are around the person you "love". Sadly, when that feeling fades - which emotions are prone to do - we fall "out of love".

I believe that this is one of the reasons the world has chosen to fixate itself on the eros. Eros love is emotional and sensual. (I'm not trying to talk dirty, I'm referring to love that relates to the senses.) It can be misinterpreted as the high point of human love. To love with an eros love is intense, but not foundational for real love.

The other reason that true love has been twisted by the world is because agape love is often challenging. To love someone with an agape love means to love them despite their many flaws. It's a love that forms the foundation for healthy relationships. It is also hard work. There are times when the eros love isn't there and we have to choose to love with an agape love. It's a tough sell... it's not sexy.

That said, while it's often tough to love with an agape love, it is an amazing experience to be loved with an agape love. The safety and comfort of being with someone who you know will love you even when you've been a goof is like no other feeling.

So this Valentine's Day, don't treat your significant other like a burger.

God loves you, OK?

Seeing the "verse-of-the-day" and coming across this article during my devotions was simply too much to keep to myself. I found it a powerful reminder of the magnitude of God's love.

During my mid-twenties, I faced the weight of overdue decisions that I'd avoided. I had let fear dissuade me from moving on to the next phase in life. I was at a halt in my college education, leaving me to linger in stagnation, postponing me from achieving my degree, causing me to feel hopeless—I thought I wouldn’t be able to pick myself back up again and be admitted to a good university. Many of my goals were deterred because I couldn’t overcome certain hurdles in my life, and not just with my education. I also had to confront emotional baggage I stubbornly held on to. The backlog of unsettled issues was like a room of library books with stamped slips indicating months and years of neglect, and all because of fear—fear of failure, disappointment and hurt. The room grew so cluttered that the cyclical behavior of fear and neglect took turns playing yo-yo, and I was the overworn yo-yo.One evening I was chatting online with a guy friend who noticed my sadness; he concluded our conversation with friendly words that most people say when they really don’t know what to say: “God loves you, ok?” Although he said this with good intentions, it felt so cliché, like default encouragement. I already knew God loved me and that He had such affection for me, but the statement felt like a familiar tune that just comes and goes that rarely stays to ruminate in one’s thoughts. I turned off the computer and went upstairs still feeling defeated. Although I believed God loved me, my mind was resolved in being encumbered with feelings of dissatisfaction. Despite my stubbornness, I took comfort in the fact that despite circumstances, at least God loved me. Despite all the failings of my life, I was loved.

As I was about to sleep, I lingered in thought about my friend’s final encouragement. It continued repeating itself like a contagious children’s Sunday school song, with a poignancy covered by simplicity.I saw the folly of my limited thinking. Love isn’t the mere capsule of humanity’s capacity or standard of love. But love in context of that sentence encompasses a deeper plight and purpose other than and including affection. Love is not just an obscure emotion, as one can “love” a certain color, particular food, a specific NFL team, or a little black shirt that gives your friends the illusion that you’ve been frequently hitting Bally’s. Instead, this love imitates the function of a verb—an action beyond the mushiness of the heart. Instead, it is the manifestation of the complex idea. And for me to agree that God loves me yet remain hardhearted forces me to reevaluate what “love” means. If you break open this simple sentence of encouragement, you'll reveal an intense outpouring of kinetic intentions from God’s heart. We begin to realize that God’s revelation of love for us is not merely like that of a Hallmark card—it's more of an invitation for Him to work in us and conduct major renovations in our lives.

Through this love, God has taken active involvement to slowly mold our lives, fulfilling His role of Faithful. In our limited vision and shortsightedness, all we need to rely on is trust. To trust the simple phrase “God loves you” is to acknowledge God’s rearranging of the areas of your life that seem immovable, areas that seem impossible for you to be at peace with, maybe even areas of your life that you refuse to let go of. To trust this sentence is to believe that God is constantly at motion to show his beloved that the work of His hands equals the intense emotion of His heart.I’m turning 27 this year. I’ve graduated cum laude in my class, and, it turns out, God wasn’t the only one in love with me. Two years after that online conversation, I married that friend who gave me those simple words, and we named our daughter Emmanuelle Grace: “God with us.” The knowledge that God’s love is in continual motion in my life allowed me to face my fears that critical year. I confronted the issues that needed attention, knowing the difficulty involved was a part of His constant revision in me. Now, in our marriage, when obstacles push their way into our spirits, we remind each other that God loves us. That phrase long lost its whimsical tune and has become a solid hymn we cling to. He’ll continue to make renovations in me and in my life, even some that I can only accept with faith. But I’ve seen what He has done with my mustard-seed faith; He loves with passionate abundance.

From RelevantMagazine.com

Limits of Submission...

Richard J. Foster wrote a book I'm working through. In Celebration of Discipline, he describes several traditional "disciplines", of which one is the discipline of submission.

A subsection of this chapter speaks about the "limits of submisson". Foster draws the line at the point where the act of submission becomes "destructive". He supports his stand with the idea that destructive submission, "...becomes a denial of the law of love as taught by Jesus and is an affront to genuine bliblical submission."

Foster - a quaker - is not one to bend doctrine or tradition. He points out Peter's call for radical submission to the State, "Be subject for the Lord's sake to every human institution, whether it be the emporer as supreme, or to the governors..." (1 Peter 2:13, 14) However, Foster also points out an occasion when the government of his day commanded the Church to stop proclaiming Christ. Peter did not submit, "Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you rather than to God, you must judge; for we cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard." (Acts 4:19, 20)

The seemingly contradictory stances by Peter - inspired by God for documentation in the Bible - have thrown a wrench in the machine of my mind. I tend to err on the side of the dogmatic when it comes to judgement. I have been guilty of taking a verse from the Bible and holding it up as my measuring stick for evaluating people and their actions. Particularly regarding the issue of divorce, I have held in my heart a grudge against anybody who leaves one spouse for another. While I still believe that sin is sin, I feel as though I need to spend more time digging into examples in the Bible beyond my staple "one-liners" aimed at justifying judgement. Just another example of the limits of human understanding and the need to trust authority to our omniscient God. In this case there should be no limit to my submission.

Hating evil...

“ Let those who love the LORD hate evil, for he guards the lives of his faithful ones and delivers them from the hand of the wicked. ” (Psalm 97:10)


At our school, we've engaged in some professional reading and discussions. The following is an excerpt from my response to a discussion thread:

"I am more concerned about how violently political Christians have become" - written by one of my colleagues

"Wow. I'm totally on the other side of the fence. I feel as though we Christians are more apathetic than anything. The western world Christians are laissez-faire to the point of unconsciousness.

The world I have grown up in isn't - in my opinion - the victim of religious in-fighting or social violence, rather it's been eroded by lack of action. The people who call the shots are listening to the squeaky wheels who are not representing Godly principles."

I truly believe that we in the western world are typically an apathetic, comfortable bunch of pseudo-Christians. The usual qualification that not all North Americans fit this bill, but it is a pretty accurate character sketch.

I love the Lord... but do I truly hate evil? I've inserted an image from the riots in reaction to a cartoon which lampooned the prophet Muhammad. In the eyes of these people, evil has been done. Any depiction of Muhammad is considered blasphemous. As a result, there is outrage and even violence. Is this what we're being asked to do when we, (the church), are faced with evil?

If we read on, we see that there's more to the verse. "...for he guards the lives of his faithful ones and delivers them from the hand of the wicked. ” I believe that we are asked to put our trust in the Lord; that He will guard us and deliver us. Just as Jesus suffered and did nothing to defend Himself, so should we trust in Him to see justice done in His time.

So where is the balance? On one hand, we have the comatose Christian who prefers the warm blanket of grace; on the other, the radical, aggressive wrath of Muslim rioters who take matters into their own hands. I suppose there is room for debate as to which of the two is closer to God's plan for our lives, but that's not the point in this discussion. I feel convicted that I do not hate sin like I should.

Random thought... Education

I picked up a book from our library's discard pile (the price was right) by one of my favourite authors. It's a collection of his memoirs, outlining the journeys and adventures which inspired the journeys and adventures he wrote about.

Prior to embarking on the lusty tales of reciting poetry in lumber camps or sailing on an Arab dhow up to the Red Sea, L'Amour gives his own view on education... what it is and what it isn't.

"If I were asked what education should give, I would say it should offer breadth of view, ease of understanding, tolerance for others, and a background from which the mind can explore in any direction.

"Education should provide the tools for a widening and deepening of life, for increased appreciation of all one sees or experiences. It should equip a person to live life well, to understand what is happening about him, for to live life well one must live with awareness.

"No one can 'get' an education, for of necessity education is a continuing process. If it does nothing else, it should provide students with the tools for learning, acquaint them with the methods of study and research, methods of pursuing an idea."

I'm drawn to L'Amour's ideas about education because I hold the same thoughts. Today, I have been inspired to drag my teaching from the muck and mire that was January, and truly teach with a renewed enthusiasm.

A large part of what I'm excited about is that which Louis L'Amour glosses over in his memoirs.

"It is constantly reiterated that education begins in the home, as indeed it does, but what is often forgotten is that morality begins in the home also."

I have the opportunity to teach kids about Jesus. Part of my frustrations from yesterday's blog stem from the fact that too many kids see God as someone or something to be learned. I get the impression that there is a checklist that gets "ticked off" when they hear and understand the stories from the Bible. Rather than becoming passionate to explore and understand the Author of their faith, they've engaged in "Sunday School" where they enter a place of learning and then exit it a couple hours later to re-enter "life".

As a Christian teacher and Sunday School teacher, I have the opportunity to open eyes and reveal the tools they can use to pursue God. That thought - the pursuit of God - is exciting to me. If I can inspire a student of mine to truly seek after God, I can be satisfied that I have done something of worth as a Christian educator.

Faith...

“ However, as it is written: "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him"

The issue of faith - believing in the "unseen" - has come up in two distinctly different instances over the past little bit...

New to this blog thing, I started checking out some existing blogs and came across a blog completely dedicated to the promotion of evolution as a pure science. I emailed the blog host which launched a series of back-and-forths which - though very civilized - led us to the conclusion that there wasn't a middle ground for what we believed. Ultimately, he was confident in putting his "faith" (for lack of a better word) in the belief that there is an undiscovered origin of the earth which can be explained by science. Obviously, I believe that the earth originated with the Creator. Either way, both of our viewpoints rely on believing in that which "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, (and) no mind has conceived".

More recently, I was disappointed by a discussion our Sunday School class had regarding their "faith". When I asked them - point blank - about why they claimed to be a Christian, their answers were weak at best. Granted, these are only kids we're talking about. Their concerns are more temporal right now. However, it seems to me that this is a pretty foundational question. I'm still working out how I want to follow up our discussion...

In the beginning...

This is going to look like the most self-promoting piece of business on the Internet. For what it's worth, it's not meant to be.

My plan is to spend some time every day reflecting on something I've read or learned. Just as we have a daily verse fed to the Buzza Family Blogspot, I plan on creating the same link for this blog. Hopefully, this will serve as the starting point for most of my reflection.

Those who know me will scratch their collective head at the thought of me thinking... let alone recording my thoughts. However, I've been inspired by the reading and reflection our staff has started doing at my school. Also, I have a tendency to be verbose - often to the point of shooting my mouth off. (Friends and family are nodding, "Amen" and begin to recognize the author of this post.) This venue should provide a different sort of outlet for my oft-random thoughts so that I won't feel the need (as often) to verbalize them.

Whatever the case, it's an experiment. We'll see how it shapes up.