Faith and Trust

Last week we put our oldest child on a big yellow bus and waved goodbye as she rode to her first day of Kindergarten. Our little girl gone for eight hours, under the care of strangers. Would she be okay? What if she lost her way in the maze of school hallways? I imagined her wandering the halls for hours, crying and feeling all alone. It was a bit difficult to bear.

Faith is not easy for me. Trust does not come naturally. And that makes sense, since faith and trust are the same. The popular concept of faith often shows a blindfolded man, standing in the dark, preparing to leap from a cliff into the darkened depths. We often talk about "blind faith." But that is not how I understand my faith.

Sending my first-born to school was an indeed an act of trust. Much of it was blind. I did not know where she was and what she was doing every minute. I couldn't be sure that she made it to her class or onto bus 21 at the end of the day. Blindness, indeed. But I was informed. We toured the school on Monday night and discovered the gymnasium, the cafeteria, and Olivia’s classroom. She found her name tag taped to the table. We met her teacher and reviewed her daily classroom schedule. We double-checked her bus number. We asked, and learned that if she does not make it to class, the school would notify us early in the morning. I know that the school follows strict policies regarding teacher qualifications, credentials, and background checks. Finally, I have heard from the experiences of others that the school has a good reputation for caring for our kids. While I cannot know the future, I do believe that the best indicator of future behavior is past performance. I feel like I have enough information to form a solid foundation for trust.

And for me, that is faith. Faith in schools and teachers. Faith in others. Faith in God. Faith is rarely a blind leap. But neither is it a crystal-clear path. I don't have all the answers. But I have done some research. I have information. I have informed faith.

At 4:30 that afternoon, the doors opened and Olivia climbed down the giant bus stairs with a giant smile on her face, ready to tell us about her day.

Monet and the Bible

Yesterday afternoon Erica and I visited the Nelson-Atkins Art Museum here in Kansas City. The museum owns one large panel of Monet's famed water lillies paintings. The panel, however, is only one third of the complete paintings, with the other 2 panels owned and displayed at other museums around the country. This summer, the museum arranged for all 3 panels to be displayed together in one gigantic forty-two foot wide painting.

Like so many other people in Kansas City, I waited until the second-to-last weekend of the exhibit to visit. So, of course, there were tons of people. We stood in a long line waiting to enter the special exhibit. I stood back for a moment and gazed at the entire painting, but I saw more hairlines than brush strokes. We took a moment to look up close. I didn't want to stand in front of too many other art-admirers, so I made t quick. I stared at the brightest part of the painting- the red and yellow flowering Lillies at the bottom of the painting.

It was neat. I felt like I was able to get close to a piece of significant history. But there wasn't much detail, at least that I noticed. And the drab purples and greens looked very similar to the flowers my five year old daughter creates with her eight-color Crayola watercolor set. I didn't really get it. Honestly, not much wonder and not very inspiring to me. But I bet a friend of mine, the art history doctoral student, would have a different opinion.

I wonder if that is how it is for many people who open a Bible for the first time, looking for some great inspiration, having heard from friends, relatives and television preachers that God speaks through the Bible. So they crack it open and wait for the angels to sing. Or maybe they are long-time churchgoers who wonder how it is that their pastor gets so much out of a simple Bible story. They try it for themselves and are confused, bored and uninspired.

When it comes to art, I am ignorant. I really have no education or experience in art appreciation. I satisfied my fine arts credit requirements in college by singing in the choir for three semesters. But I know one thing. I didn't look at that forty-two foot painting very long. Maybe only five minutes. (That comes out to only seven seconds per linear foot). Had I sat on the couch in the back of the gallery and gazed at it for an hour I would have seen so much more. Had I crawled as close as the guard allowed and sat for 10 minutes, I might have been inspired.

After viewing the triptych, we walked through the accompanying display and learned about cross-section analysis and x-ray analysis. I discovered that Monet originally painted a detailed leafy lillie in one corner, and then covered it over with those mixed up purples and greens. Later in the day I learned about the history and theory of impressionist art. With this knowledge and background, a second look at the painting would yield more insight and appreciation. Of course, the ultimate would be to travel back in time and talk with Claude himself as he painted.

I think it is the same with the Bible. It is not easy for the first-time reader. There is a lot there and much of it is very confusing, even for theology doctoral students. You can't crack it open, read it for a few minutes and expect complete understanding, appreciation and grand inspiration (at least not every time). Some passages need to be gazed at for minutes and even hours. Education, training and tutoring will go a long way. The preacher who sees so much in one little story most likely has spent years reading, studying and talking with the author. If you really want to "get it" you will have to give your time, attention and your entire self to the Bible and, more importantly, to the God who inspired it.

Blue's Clues Handy Dandy Notebook

This is a rather random post. It has nothing to do with church, theology, the Bible, or anything of interest in my life other than my kids. And my desire to help others like me. So Easton is into Blue's Clues. I know, it is a 10 year old show that is no longer on television. But somehow he found one of our vhs tapes (we call them our DVR tapes just to make ourselves feel cool) and he discovered Blues Clues. His second birthday is coming up and we are doing a Blues Clues theme. By the way, put your leftover Wonder Pets cups, napkins and party favors in a big box, and write on it, "sell on ebay in 2021." Seriously, some crazy parent of an about-to-be-two year old will pay big money for it. No, seriously . . . I know they will. (At least I don't think I am that weird).

So anyways, my contribution to the Blues Clues themed birthday party is to buy or create the Handy Dandy notebooks for each partygoer. Since I am not into paying $10 each on ebay, I figured I would create my own. The cover is the hardest part. Image searches on Google produced nothing much, so I had to create one the hard way. So I figured I would share them. And this is the only way I know how to do it.

So if you are a dad who does not own photoshop and you find Microsoft Paint incredibly difficult to use, join the club! And enjoy. (And if you feel like it, send a few dollars via paypal to jmatters@juno.com) No just kidding, unless you really want to, in which case I am not kidding at all.

A Ridiculously Good Life

I tend to complain. Usually not about big things, but just little things. Lights not turned off. Slow drivers in front of me. Early mornings. But I have never complained about not having arms or legs. And now that I have read his story, I am not sure Nick Vujicic has either. By the way, his name is pronounced Voy-a-chich. Nick has reason to complain- he has no arms or legs. Yet he has surfed in the ocean, scuba dived a reef, beat up the school bully, and toured South Africa. I haven't even tried.

Nick's story and encouragement is found in his book, Life Without Limits: Inspiration For a Ridiculously Good Life. Nick was born without arms or legs, yet worked hard to keep up with his friends. He is an entrepreneur, motivational speaker, and evangelist. And motivational he is. He mixes his thoughts and inspiration with his life story.

I really enjoyed his chapter on fear. He describes Chucky, the biggest bully in his grade school, and tells about the day he took on Chucky on the schoolyard during lunch. He describes the fight, including his post-fight apology, and then talks about fear. Nick relates the acronym, False Evidence Appearing Real, and talks about how when we focus on our fears, they become real and then control us. His solution: rather than denying or discounting fears, we should let them motivate us. This is good stuff.

I tend to be a complainer. I think I need to read one chapter of this book every day. I could read it twice in one month. And I would be better for it.

Required Disclaimer: I received this book for free from WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group for this review.

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The Boy Who Cried Wolf, (The remix)

So I have been thinking about my post from the other day. We usually hear that fable from the perspective of the other shepherds. But how about it from this angle:

Once there was a young boy who was watching his father's sheep. The long and lonely days became too much for the boy, and on one particularly-long Monday, he decided to have some fun. The boy began to shout, "Wolf, wolf, wolf!" The sheep heard the call and began to run, hide, and try to escape the impending doom. After all, their short legs could only run so fast.

Other shepherds came running to help chase the wolf, but found the shepherd laughing hysterically. The scattered sheep were gathered, and the other shepherds returned to their own flocks, muttering something under their breath.

On Tuesday, the sheep again heard their shepherd shouting, "Wolf, wolf, wolf!" And again, wanting to protect themselves, tried to gain a head-start and protect themselves. But alas, no wolf.

On Wednesday, they heard the call, turned, scanned the horizon, peered into the bushes watching for movement, saw nothing and returned to eating, appointing one of the flock to serve as watch-guard.

On Thursday, the "wolf" call came while the sheep were napping in the valley. They heard the call, looked at each other, rolled their eyes, and went back to sleep.

On Friday, somewhere the call was sounded, but no one remembers hearing it. And then it was too late. A hungry wolf devoured the flock.

"Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come. But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him." (Matthew 24:42-44)

The Boy Who Cried Wolf (translated, "The World Is Ending"

According to broadcaster/preacher Harold Camping, yesterday was supposed to feature an earthquake and the rapture, leading up to a fireball finale this October. 24 hours later, I have yet to hear of a massive earthquake. Neither Billy Graham nor Pope Benedict disappeared. I think it is safe to say Mr. Camping was wrong.

I wonder how many preachers talked about Mr. Camping's prediction today? I wonder how many preachers cracked jokes and poked fun at the predictions. (Yes, I was one who participated in the latter.)

I think it was foolish of Mr. Camping to make the prediction. Unfortunately, too many people were fooled by him and are wondering how they will replenish their savings accounts. Too many people now feel justified in their distaste for Christians and organized religion in general. But here is what I am concerned about: too many people, Christians included, will scoff at any mention of the return of Christ, judgment, and all things apocalyptic.

You have undoubtedly heard the story of the shepherd boy who cried wolf? He became bored and lonely and cried out, "Wolf!!!!" Neighboring shepherds abandoned their flocks and ran to the rescue, only to discover they had been tricked. The boy laughed and enjoyed the prank. The next day the boy pulled the prank again, the shepherds again fell for it, and the boy laughed even harder. On the third day, when the shepherds heard the cry, they ignored it and refused to play the fool. Unfortunately, there really was a wolf this time. I don't think any storybook illustrator ever illustrated the final illustration: wool and sheep bones everywhere, a wolf licking his chops with an enlarged belly (and the shepherd boy probably didn't make it either).

I wonder how many people, refusing to be fooled again, will now listen to nothing about the return of Christ and the day of judgment. In the book of Matthew, chapters 24-25, Jesus speaks about his return. His essential message: KEEP WATCH and BE READY! (Matthew 24:42 & 44) Concerning the servant who is wicked and not ready, Jesus says that his master, "will cut him to pieces and assign him a place with the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." (Matthew 24:51 (NIV)) Ouch, Jesus! But that is the reality of the return of Christ.

Read all of Jesus' words and you will find that the return of Christ is not something to be taken lightly! We cannot discount the day just because we do not know the date!

Some preacher cried wolf. He was either innocently misinformed or pulling a mean prank. We are still here: no earthquakes, no apparent rapture. But just like the fable, the return of Christ is real, and will occur some day. (But Jesus probably won't gobble up the sheep and shepherd boy.) Don't let some preacher cause you to discount the words of Jesus: keep watch and be ready.

Make Your Choice . . . but choose wisely

I am still thinking about values. If someone said, "Jason, do you value physical health?" I would say, "yes!" But how would I defend myself? Well, I don't smoke; I am not overweight; I don't eat too much junk food nor drink too much pop; I am not experiencing any pain or other symptoms of disease. Isn't that an interesting way of defending my supposed value? The evidence of what I value is found in what I don't do. You know why? Because when I look at what I do, I am not sure I truly value physical health. I think that if I truly valued physical health I would exercise or do something active. Mowing the lawn is the only extended physical activity in which I engage. And that is once per week for 7 months- not exactly an exercise regimen.

You know, I regularly think to myself, "I should go downstairs and exercise." I have a great exercise machine in the basement, and it sits in front of a big television. But I don't. In the moment, instead of choosing exercise, I choose rest, vegging out, or, to be really honest, comfort!

So here is what I am learning about values: I can make a list a mile long of my values. But then comes the hard part: putting that list in order. Every decision is a choice between two (or more) values. One will win. How often does that value beat out the other values? I have to be honest; I value comfort more than I value exercise. Ouch. Saying it out loud and typing it for the whole world to see is not easy. But it is true. So for every value I claim to live by, I have to ask myself if there is something I value more than that.

So what do you really value? Which values are at the top of the list? Stop talking about what you value. Talk about what you value more.

Your life is the result of your choices, which are values-choices; so your life is the result of your values.