Coram Deo: a theology of presence

Again Lent crept up, silent and unassuming.  And rather suddenly, as it is wont to these past few years.  There it is, tucked into the middle of my week, the day before Valentines; and I’m supposed to know exactly which spiritual disciplines will best lead me to what end for the growth and betterment of my soul.       

I wonder if that’s how the desert found Christ.  If He was walking, purposed on being close to the Father after His baptism, looked up and suddenly He was in the desert.  As He intended to be, no doubt; but did He intentionally note the crossing of the line from society to wilderness.  Or was it just something that happened as He considered His Father’s words to Him?

Whatever the case, I prayed yesterday, as I hung red and silver whirly-gigs from my ceiling, and draped all conceivable surfaces with hearts, that the Holy Spirit would lead me into this Lent with insight as to what I ought to do.  For there is much on my mind and heart this Lenten season, not so external as last year, more internal; and I have been seeking means for addressing the shifting in my spirit and I just knew that Lent would pair so well with this pursuit.  And I prayed again, driving through fog and traffic on the way to class on this day of commercialized love; wishing I wasn’t already a day behind in the liturgical calendar, so that it felt like failing to even be asking.       

And in my own head, I came up with a few good and decent ideas:

·         Practice self-care for 40 days – Because I have a tendency to neglect myself in certain ways; and this neglect shows a poor respect for the gift of my physical body, a poor theology of time and of humanness, and, frankly a disrespect for the price Christ paid to free me from sinful behaviors and attitudes concerning an anti-gnostic view of me.  Thus, I had concluded the following would be my means of practice:

o    consume only Paleo food and drink [like the Daniel fast, only with lean meat proteins and omitting grains]

o    engage in physical activity every day

o    nap when I need it

o    get enough water

o    go to bed at a decent hour

o    Give up alcohol*

 

·         Memorize scripture – A good discipline to ground my thoughts and deeds and days in God’s Word; to have it available when I need it; to let the Holy Spirit work through the scriptures directly on my heart.

o    Find 4 sections (not verses, but passages that include the contextual emphasis) of scripture – the trouble I was running into was: which passages?

o    Devote 10 days to the memorization of each passage

o    Write them on my mirror, make flip cards, tuck them into my books for school, etc...so they would be constantly before my eyes and on my mind.

 

·         Give up make-up for 40 days – If you know me, this doesn’t sound like much of a stretch.  But when I wear it, it is representative both my desperate attempts to control a tiny bit of the situation I’m in, and my warped theology of beauty (how I want people to view me and how I am programmed to view myself with and without it).  Even I was surprised to find myself balking at the very idea.  It was a telling few moments of my commute.  

Each of these is a good idea. Thus, I had decided to implement them together, in a holistic self-care Lenten regimen.  I was contemplating the lateness of my Lent’s beginning (Ash Wednesday was yesterday) as I pulled into the parking lot; and having an internal argument as to whether Valentine’s celebrations could count as “non-Lent-ish” since a piece of chocolate cake and a glass of wine were in my plans for this evening.  Shouldn’t I keep my make-up on for the Officer, if this was my last day of it for a month; and who wants to workout on Valentine ’s Day anyway?    

I walked into class, as is so often the case, completely unaware of what God was going to do in that space – just for me. 

Yes, I know how selfish it sounds to say that God did something only for me, in a graduate course full of students and visitors with their lives full of God-needs, too.  But He has done it over and over again—knocked the wind out of me through the prayer of a teacher, or through the wisdom of a professor, or through the insight of a classmate.  Maybe because it’s there, in those rooms, at those times, am I really listening and really believing all of what God says about who He is.  Or maybe it’s because these people, in that place, listen to Him well and bring Him with them in their hearts and their words.  Or maybe it’s just because.    

We’d discussed it before; and will no doubt again.  But today in the professor’s prayer, in my heart, in the talk about what we believe about God and how our lives are lived out of this belief, however well-formed or poorly represented; today, it struck me as exactly what I was hoping for in my Lent.

Coram Deo :

-- carried out before, or in the presence of, God.

{Isaiah 40:9-31}

The professor read the whole of Isaiah 40:9-31 aloud, over us.  I could hear my Father’s voice in my heart; within me, my spirit responded.  As this reality of who God is was pouring over me, I asked the question: is every aspect of my life conducted coram deo; and I knew the answer is not fully and wholly, “yes.”  I am still trying to control so much of it.  Every day.  And there are deep places in me that cry out still for the fullness of the gospel to reach them; like so many petals needing to be peeled away so that light can finally reach the center.

 

So that what was left after this sounding of my spirit was the realization that the practices I had purposed earlier wouldn’t merely do – they were exactly what I needed.

·         If I truly believe that God created me, and has ransomed me for His own, then I need to practice self-care.  It is not a selfish pursuit.  Nor should it wear the trappings of vanity; for the moment I think, “I want to be skinnier/prettier/firmer/etc…” I move from stewardship to sin.  I must care for this physical and temporal body not because it’s the vessel that holds my soul, but because my body is as much me as my heart and mind and spirit.  Each was made by God, with only me in mind.  And each should be cared for because they were made by God – not because I want the world to respond to me in a certain way. {Self-care} 

·         If I truly believe that God inspired humans to write down His words, centuries apart in different context for different audiences using different genres and literary devices, then I need to seek His voice therein.  If I truly believe that somehow, incomprehensible to me, His Spirit and Power are alive in His Word, then oughtn’t I devote time and energy to tucking these into my being – into my mind and heart?  {Memorize Isaiah 40:9-31}

·         If I truly believe that God is the Creator of the universe and time; and that He is the orchestrator of all good things, should I not completely surrender control to Him? {No make-up.  Focusing only on the 24 hour period in which I am presently; and doing what I can in that time and space.}   

·         Finally, an addition: If I truly believe that God is YHWH, then I need a better theology.  Not newer or more “relevant” or more academic.  More holistic, more well-rounded, more thoughtful, more aware.  I will use my course assignments not merely as papers, but as formation exercises.  I will find what theologians say about certain topics (the Doctrine of revelation, of sin, of human being, of creation, of God, etc…), and what the scriptures say; and I will find where I fall.  For out of my theology will come my praxis of life coram deo.  {Research, articulate, and practice Theology on 4 topics}

Of course, these disciplines are just that: mechanisms to keep me mindful of living my entire life as before God.  They will not unlock some secret spirituality within me.  They will not, by virtue of their practice, usher me into a more intimate communion with the Lord.  But, like any training exercise,  they can help me center my mind and focus my heart and bend my spirit to hear God, and daily [even moment to moment] help me to live my life coram deo.           

May this Lenten season find you seeking deeper relationship with God the Father.  May His Holy Spirit guide your weeks ahead.  And may His Son, Jesus Christ once again win your heart with His unquenchable love.

  

 

*A note on Giving up Alcohol – While I do not hold a teetotaler philosophy {this in itself is not a judgment on either side of the debate, merely a personal note}, I find that removing certain substances from time to time a beneficial practice that allows me to focus on mental, spiritual, and physical health.  To do a sounding of my whole person and decided: does this particular element have too great a hold on me (I have done this with alcohol, sugar, and caffeine in the past).  It allows me to find this ingredient’s place in my life and make sure it has not become either a crutch or a screen to something deeper in need of attention. 



Linked with: I Still Hate Pickles for Lent.  Visit Kiki's site, read her words, and be enoucraged by her insightful transparency.  

Lessons from a Church Gypsy

Read: 1 peter 2:1-10 and 1 Corinthians3

Our family is a band of church gypsies.  The theological education of our children, the spiritual development (so much as it can be up to any mortal) of our individual members, and the devotion to and worship of our Lord God is always first and foremost in our thoughts and deeds.[1]  However, we do not have decades-long ties to any particular church in our area.  We have been vagabonds, moving through and among congregations as deftly as, well…gypsies through the countryside. 

I share this with you today because what troubles me, greatly, are the lines of division that have been carved among believers; lines that are meant to separate ourselves from each other.  Particularly as we speed toward an election that has been extremely divisive for our nation, I am troubled at the “us versus them” mentality within the body of Christ.  Denomination against denomination.  Conservative against liberal.  Sister against brother.  We have allowed our ideologies to taint the gospel, to mar the message of one body in Christ, to defame the unity for which Jesus expected us to strive.  When we are a house divided, we are easy to dismiss.  To ignore.  To refute.  When we cannot treat one another charitably, how can we be expected to be light in an increasingly uncharitable world?

I know that there is no perfect church, for each community is comprised of imperfect sinners.  And we each are (hopefully) doing our best to live out the gospel.  Thus, if a community other than yours, or an individual believer, is acting within the bounds of scripture, yet doing something you wouldn’t do or in a way that you wouldn’t do it, might I suggest you look upon them with “Pollyanna” eyes?  Find the good they are striving toward, before lambasting them and tearing down what their character or denomination or expression of faith.  Remember that you and your church are just as imperfect and therefore in as much need of Christ’s grace as they.           

Our family has been a part of numerous communities of believers in our eight plus years in rural Colorado; each like a particular bloom in my heart, that when I look back upon them all I see a garden.  A tapestry from which we have learned and in which we have grown   There have been none we left on poor terms; and we pray that each continues their ministry and grows in vibrancy.  We have simply been called to move on at different times; some are obvious in hind-sight, others less so.  But our fluidity through these communities has left a beautiful mark in me, each one something I would regret deeply to have missed.        

I’ve loved the liturgy of the mainline churches we’ve attended; and yearn for it on the holy days when reverence is what the heart desires.  I’ve delighted in the dancing of non-denominational settings, where being yourself before the Lord is greatly expected; and where the community knows you and accepts you and you don’t have to rehash your journey every 2 months.  I’ve relished delving deep into the Word, going verse-by-verse in other non-denominational (-but-we’re-big-enough-that-we-really-are-our-own-denomination) congregations.  And I’ve cherished breaking bread weekly with another community who sought to truly live out missional lives.  I’ve learned from the vitality of a small group gathered primarily to make a difference in their community.  And oh how I miss that one group of lifers who just got each other, cared for and supported one another through whatever life slung at them. 

To have missed what each community taught me, what they drew out of me, would be a great tragedy to my spirit.  I love that as a member of the body of Christ, I can move within these people and glean from them the beauty therein.  Each place literally lightens my heart when I think of it, of the people who welcomed us and loved us and taught us and worshiped with us.  I can’t wait for the coming, epic reunion in Heaven when we’ll all be together as one family…worshiping our Lord together.  What a party that will be!  Laughter I can’t even imagine now and warmth and love I can’t fathom here.  The smile on my face at the very thought is so wide my cheeks are starting to hurt.  That is joy. 

Thus, I want to encourage you, visit some churches in your area.  Go outside of your brand of worship.  Recognize that just as you are individually created to enjoy a particular flavor of service, so are others; and that we have so much to gain when we respectfully share our way of drawing nearer to our Lord.  Stretch yourself and meet your extended family in Christ.  See how they worship, and do not judge, but enjoy their expression of love for our Heavenly Father.  Listen to their teachings, and so long as they keep with scripture, learn from them.  Shake their hands, let them welcome you, as family you may yet not know.  Return their smiles.  Open your heart.  Be blessed by them, and in turn bless them.  For one day, those of us who believe, will all be set at the King’s table for a feast in honor of His Son, celebrating His Love and Grace for each and every one of us.  Thus, if it is to be so in the age to come, should it not also be now? 

Lord, may Your kingdom come here on earth,

as it is and shall be in Heaven.

Amen.

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[1] On that note, we’re rolling out our family motto and life plan; which I’ll be outlining in the new year. 

A Pharisee and an Outcast

Because all scripture should be read within context, no one verse or passage to be lifted from the place where its author set it,  today we’re going to look at John 4:1-42 as it relates to John 3, where Jesus encounters a Pharisee named Nicodemus.  So, crack John 3 [and if you’re feeling particularly ambitious, reread John 4 for good measure] and read it.  Don’t worry, I’ll wait…     

Nicodeums Visiting Jesus by Henry Ossawa Tanner - found at oceansbridge.com

Now, as we’ve mentioned [repeatedly] before, in chapter 4 we find that Jesus has gone out of his way, literally, to meet this particular woman at this particular well.  But this point becomes crystalline when considering it in such close proximity to that of Nicodemus the Pharisee visiting Jesus.  In the Nicodemus discourse, it is the Pharisee who seeks out Jesus; yet for the Samaritan woman it is the other way around.  Another striking difference between these two accounts is the time at which they happen.  John notes that Nicodemus came to Jesus at night, while Jesus’ meeting with the Samaritan woman occurs at noon. 

Again, we’ve established that some scholars deem this an unlikely time for drawing water, and make further claims about the woman’s character based on this fact [including that she has no friends or is not welcome by the other women, which is why she draws her water at noon, alone].[1]  However, as much as this anthropologic information supports the typography of this woman as an outcast, literarily, John is employing one of his preferred tactics, the expression of duality, to further highlight the differences between these two encounters: Nicodemus seeks out Jesus in the dark, while Jesus approaches this woman in the light of day.  Thus the insertion of time and location, which are characteristic of John’s gospel, serve to draw the readers’ attention to the polarization of these narratives.  And because the woman’s exchange with Jesus occurs in the light, John paints her as the better example of faith, understanding, and evangelism.

Within the Nicodemus conversation it is the Pharisee who begins the dialogue, as the honor of speaking first is generally afforded to the most socially superior individual.[2]  Even though Nicodemus identifies Jesus as “a teacher who has come from God,” Jesus immediately commandeers the exchange by ignoring Nicodemus’ question; Jesus offers instead a statement that is completely off the subject that Nicodemus has introduced.  In the remainder of their conversation, Nicodemus is left only with questions and Jesus guides the discussion in an increasingly harsh manner through to its cessation.  In the Samaritan discourse, Jesus is the initiator of contact, which does indicate his superior position; however this contact is highly unusual and counter-cultural.  In fact, when the disciples return from procuring food, they are surprised to find him engaged in a conversation with this woman, yet, as Keener suggests, they know Jesus well enough not to question him out loud.[3]      

While Nicodemus initially appeared to have a superior position in his conversation with Christ, “Jesus approached the relationship with the Samaritan woman with all the cards on his side: he was male, he was Jewish, he was a Rabbi.  He came with knowledge, a certain amount of affluence, friends, and the privilege afforded to him as a result of being part of the dominant culture.”[4]  And yet, he brooked interaction with this woman, who by Jewish pietists’ definition would have been considered perpetually unclean from birth due to her Samaritan roots.[5]  And he humbled himself before her, empowering her in their exchange, asking for her help in quenching his thirst.[6]  This humility was so out of the ordinary, the woman comments on it in verse nine, asking how a Jewish man could be requesting a drink from her, a Samaritan woman.[7] It is worth noting that Jesus furthers his expression of humility in showing his willingness to be made unclean by this woman, for as she notes, he has “nothing to draw with,” meaning he would have to use her utensils (4:11). In response to her seeming refusal, Jesus offers a further supplication: the gift of living water.  

During their conversation, each of Jesus’ answers to her questions show that unlike his exchange with Nicodemus, a Pharisee who was considered to be one who should understand the things about which Jesus spoke, Christ will treat the Samaritan woman as one who does not yet understand.  She is a perennial outsider, even without a corrupt morality.  At no point does Jesus verbally distance himself from her with increasingly cryptic responses, as he had with Nicodemus; instead, he offers greater amounts of information, without ignoring her questions or impugning her intelligence, though he does allow her to duck to issue of her marital state.  Thus when she states her faith that he is a prophet and later that from the Jews the Messiah is coming and will show the Samaritans all things, Jesus offers her the clearest, most efficient personal Christology yet: “egw eimi,” I am he (4:26).

This statement secures her faith and she immediately acts upon it; she leaves her bucket where it is and departs to call her fellow Samaritans to this man whom she believes is the Messiah.  Yet, Nicodemus, a man who was supposed to be constantly villagent for the consummation of God’s promise, is even rebuked by Jesus for his lack of belief (3:12).  Thus a foreign woman, the last person any Israelite would have expected, heralded the Messiah’s coming.  She called her people to Christ, believing with all that she was that Jesus was the Promised One.  While the Pharisee, a man whom Jesus identifies as “Israel’s teacher” (3:10), had only questions and unbelief.  Thus, when we look at these two passages together, we see Jesus lifting a woman to a place of greater use in his kingdom; for she was ministered to and used by Jesus to announce the reality of his kingdom on earth, in a way that the Pharisee Nicodemus could not, because he could not believe.

And these two scenarios pivot on belief.  One, who should have known better, did not believe.  The other, who was fairly clueless, believed.  And tucked so neatly between these two accounts, not just once, but twice, is the theme of both:

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.   Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. (John 3:16-18)

-- And --

The one who comes from heaven is above all.  He testifies to what he has seen and heard, but no one accepts his testimony.  Whoever has accepted it has certified that God is truthful.   For the one whom God has sent speaks the words of God, for God gives the Spirit without limit. The Father loves the Son and has placed everything in his hands.   Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life, but whoever rejects the Son will not see life, for God’s wrath remains on them. (John 3:31b-36)

Thus, the Pharisee isn’t bad because he’s a Pharisee, nor because he’s male.  And the Samaritan woman isn’t good because she’s a woman, or a Gentile, or a sinner.  It is merely because he did not believe.  And she did.

Belief in Jesus Christ is the pivotal catalyst for eternal life. 

Without it, we are dead. 

  Enjoying this study?  Here's a link to other articles in this series: The Women Who Knew Jesus

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[1]Craig S. Keener, “One New Temple in Christ (Ephesians 2:11-22; Acts 21:27-29; Mark 11:17; John 4:20-24),” Asian Journal of Pentecostal Studies 12 (2009): 82.

[2] Craig Blomberg, “Literary Criticism, Introduction to Mark and Matthew,” Lecture, Gospels and Acts class, Denver Seminary, Denver, CO, September 27, 2011.

[3] Keener, “One New Temple,” 82.

[4]Brenda Salter McNeil, “A More Excellent Way: Race and Gender Reconciliation Through Christ,” Priscilla Papers, 14, (2000):  1-5.

[5] Keener, “One New Temple,” 82.

[6] McNeil, “A More Excellent Way.”

[7] Leonard Swidler, “Jesus in His Encounter with Women,” AFER, 13, (1971):  297-298.