I started seminary classes today (for the third year).  Preaching Lab and chapel in the morning, and Ordination Prep in the afternoon.

Ordination Prep is meant to prepare us for the process of pastoral ordination, especially in terms of Bible knowledge.  Ordination, especially at Grace Community Church, is rigorous, comprehensive, and intimidating.  And it should be.  The qualifications for being a leader in God’s church are stringent.  The testing ought to be nothing less.  Dr. Mayhue teaches the class, and with his Navy background and ministry experience, he likes a good challenge and is willing to challenge his students.  I like that.

Today at the beginning of class (on “syllabus day,” no less), he gave us a pop quiz.  We had four minutes to write down all sixty-six books of the Bible in the right order and with correct spelling.  This was to test our general Bible knowledge, to test how ingrained that knowledge is (with only four minutes, there’s no time for deliberation–either you know it cold or you don’t), and to test it under pressure.

At the end of the quiz, we reviewed our work.  Out of about sixty guys, only two wrote down all sixty-six books in the right order with the correct spelling in the allotted time (I wasn’t one of them).  This doesn’t mean that fifty-eight guys didn’t know their books of the Bible.  But it does mean that fifty-eight of us mispelled one book or more or didn’t get some books in the right order or left some books out or wrote too slowly or thought too slowly or wrote quickly enough but got stuck in a few places and ran out of time.

I wrote down sixty-two out of the sixty-six books in the allotted time and in the correct order.  I don’t have problems with spelling, so I didn’t misspell anything.  I do write a bit slow, but that wasn’t my ultimate problem.  My problem was that I had to leave a blank between the first four Minor Prophets and the last four (where Jonah, Micah, Nahum, and Habukkuk go).  I knew that I would need a bit of time for those four books to come back to me, so I skipped to the New Testament.  Time was racing.  I ended up running out of time before I could decide conclusively what books I was missing.  Right after time was up, it came to me.  But it wasn’t ingrained enough in my mind that I could do it on the fly under pressure.  And it should have been.  It absolutely should have been.

One of the most precipitous dangers of education today is that we do not often face these kinds of real-life (or classroom) challenges.  We are rarely (if ever) forced to actually prove that we have the knowledge that we think we have, and to prove it under fire.  It is so easy to be deceived about how much I know and especially how well I know it.  Testing is the only true way to be approved.  The problem is that we’ve lowered the idea of testing to the concept of a written exam or a paper, with the only immediate consequence being a grade.  But for most people, getting a perfect grade isn’t that important.  Therefore, learning the material isn’t that important (because we naturally equate the consequences for not doing something with the value of doing it).  And if the material isn’t learned, it won’t be practiced.  Moreover, if the material isn’t practiced, we’re all hypocrites.

Quite frankly, most students I know cram for exams and do their papers the night before they’re due.  I’ve done more than my fair share of this in the past, and continue to wrestle against the temptation in the present.  But when you do these rush jobs, there is no permeation, no saturation, and no meditation.  And therefore, there is no life change.  It’s like swallowing raw steak for lunch and dinner everyday and not exercising.  The mental and spiritual effects are disastrous.  We actually do more harm than good.  And because we avoid the exposing challenge of being truly tested, we also exempt ourselves from those necessary and staggering realizations that we’re not as smart or as godly or as prepared for life as we think we are.

So, a word of encouragement to myself and to you:  If you don’t find yourself being challenged and exposed and truly educated in the classroom, challenge yourself.  And in life as a whole, do at least one thing every day that challenges you.  No matter how great or how small, pursue something that frightens you.  Get out of your comfort zone at least once a day.  Challenge your inhibitions and your fears.  Take yourself to your limit and a bit beyond.

Run another quarter mile.  Run your normal distance but do it faster.  Begin to read two more chapters of Scripture than usual.  Ask someone you respect to read your research paper and critique it before you turn it in.  Have the needed conversation with the person that you’re intimidated by.  Sign up for that class whose workload you’re afraid of but that you know will be really profitable.  Push yourself.  Challenge yourself.  Expose yourself to your weaknesses, resolve to strengthen them, and push forward.

Today, I was challenged.  And I’m glad I was.  I’m inspired to lean on the Lord more, to work harder, and to never be complacent.  I want to pursue true education and true testing.  Because if I didn’t know the books of the Bible cold and under pressure, what else don’t I know?  What else don’t I do?  Now, let me go find a good spiritual hill to run.  I need a test…

Joining FoolishBlog

August 27, 2005

I’ve been asked to join FoolishBlog as a writer there, and I’ve accepted the invitation.  FoolishBlog is maintained by Eric and Heather Zeller (husband and wife) and Eric’s younger brother Scott.  I went to school with all three of them, and consider them to be like-minded friends.

I still plan on writing regularly here, but am grateful for the opportunity to join FB as well.  May the Lord be pleased and praised by our lives and our words.

My first FB post is here.

Returning TMC students come back to campus and move into their dorm rooms today.  There’s an interesting situation in Hotchkiss Hall.  Hotchkiss Hall is a dorm that’s two stories tall and built in the shape of an “H.”  There are four wings for girls on one side of the H, and four wings of guys on the other side.  In the middle is a lounge.

This summer, Hotchkiss was remodeled.  But due to finances, only half of the rooms could be done.  It was decided that out of the eight Hotchkiss wings, two girls’ wings and two guys’ wings would be remodeled.  What makes this interesting is that now, on both sides of Hotchkiss, there are two brand new wings and two old wings.  And as is always the case, new things always make old things look older.

So who gets to live in the new rooms and who “gets stuck” in the old rooms?  This is a bit of a dilemma (although the size of the dilemma depends on what your values are).  I’m the Resident Director of another dorm, and I deal with housing issues and requests and preferences all the time.  There will be a few difficult conversations with students who are assigned to the old rooms but want to live in the new rooms.  This desire isn’t inherently wrong.  The overall situation, though, reminds me of a few biblical principles that are very important.

1. God is a good giver of good gifts (James 1:17).  A room to live in, whether it be old or new, is one of these gifts.  God has provided.  And if you get to live in one of the new rooms, He’s made it more efficient and shiny and nice than the ones you lived in before.  He is an over-and-above kind of giver.

2. The Son of Man had nowhere to lay His head (Matthew 8:20).  Jesus didn’t have a room, even an old one.  He left His eternally happy home above to sludge His way through a sin-saturated world so that His enemies might have life, a family, and an eternal home in which to enjoy God.  And while He was here, He spent a lot of time traveling around preaching a hard message to hard and hurting people.  He had nowhere to lay His head.  For His followers, then, a dorm room or an apartment or a house or a mansion is not part of the deal.  It’s a bonus.  It’s an extra.  This has massive ramifications for our views of dorm rooms and houses and real estate.

3. We are called to rejoice with those who rejoice (Romans 12:15).  Those who live on the old wings ought to rejoice with those who get to live on the new wings.  This is simple Christianity, even though it can be very hard to do.  Our envy, jealousy, and self-seeking often stifle the joy that the Spirit wants to produce in us over the benefits that others enjoy.  But we must fight this, and fight it with tenacity.  And we must exhort those who are giving in to envy, jealousy, and selfish frustration to be happy for those who are happy.  This is what a family does, especially God’s family.

4. Consider others’ interests above your own (Philippians 2:1-11).  I’m certain that there are students who have requested to live in the old rooms because they know that others will want to live in the new rooms.  This is a reflection of Christ.  Others will not have the spiritual wherewithal to even consider for a moment that other people exist, much less that they have interests, too.  But for all of us who profess to follow Jesus, this radical call applies.  You must die every day to follow Christ in this way, but it is the most beautiful and Christ-reflecting way to live.  As Jesus Himself said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).

5. Life is short, eternity is long, God is real, heaven is glorious, hell is horrifying, the world is lost, the laborers are few, and the Lord deserves His glory.  If these realities do not compel us to put aside peripheral issues like who gets the “new” room and who gets the “old” room, we may be spiritually uncompellable.

Conversations about housing are necessary, they can be good, and like everything else that we do in life, they are worship (of something).  Just yesterday I had multiple conversations about dorms and roommates and housing exceptions—it’s part of my ministry.  But it’s a very small part, because it’s of very small value.  So here’s to all of you who live in Hotchkiss, that God might grant grace for you to maintain perspective in the midst of something small that Satan would love to make big.  Fight on.  We’re with you.

As I mentioned a few days ago, I took a week-long class called “Hospital Chaplaincy” this summer.  We spent five unforgettable days at a major hospital complex in Los Angeles.  During this time, I wrestled a lot with the issue of sharing the hard parts of the Gospel with those who are already hurting.  Since all of us are called at many times throughout life to minister the Gospel to unbelievers who are hurting, this is important to think about.  I decided to write a paper on it to help me think hard and clearly and biblically.  The title was: ”Hospital Gospel: Preaching a Wounding Message to Wounded People.”  Here’s the first part of that paper.  If you have ideas, please pass them along.

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THE GOSPEL PARADOX

The Gospel of Jesus Christ heals.  It has a therapeutic power that rises above social, familial, emotional, mental, and physical levels.  It restores people spiritually—washing their sins away, reconciling them to God, transforming them from being dead to sin to being alive in Jesus Christ, purifying them in the truth, and giving them the undying hope of eternal life.  This is eternally better than even a successful skin graft, a smooth kidney transplant, or hitting the five-year cancer-free mark.  This is a restoration above all restorations.

Because of this, the Gospel message is perfect for the hospital.  People are hurting all over the world, but there is a concentration of pain in the hospitals.  Just walk into your local hospital and you will be exposed to all the jagged contours of physical suffering.  This is where healing is most obviously needed.

But there’s a problem.  The Gospel of Jesus Christ heals, but it does not only heal.  Most transformations are painful, especially radical transformations.  This particular one can be devastatingly so.  When God heals someone of the deathly disease called sin, surgery is required.  He makes incisions, pulls back flaps of skin, pokes and prods, cuts off and removes harmful inhabitants, pushes organs back into place, cleans out the system, and sews it all back up.  And He doesn’t use anesthesia.  It hurts.

There are some “evangelists” who dole out painless medicine to people who don’t even believe they’re sick.  But all these Gospel-peddlers are doing is handing out spiritual placebos.  Those who take them may feel better for a while, especially if they have good imaginations and a sense of spiritual gullibility.  But they are by no means healed.  They have never recognized their deep and abiding wickedness, been born again, or made a radical and full commitment to follow Christ.  Before, they were blind and didn’t know it.  Now, they’re blind and think they see.  The only difference between their spiritual “before-and-after” pictures is an assumption called “false assurance.”  They were never wounded, and so could not be healed.

Jesus Christ is not like this.  He often confronts before He encourages.  This is because he is not in the business of temporary comfort.  Jeremiah would not have grouped Him with the godless prophets and priests of whom he said, “They have healed the wound of my people lightly, saying, ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace” (Jer 6:14).

Every man must have a piercing sense of his own sinfulness before he can genuinely cry out to God for the mercy of Jesus Christ.  Every sinner must despair over sin and self before he can be saved.  The criminal must comprehend his crime before he can celebrate his pardon.  And every person who preaches the Gospel must be unmistakably sure that his hearers understand the unmet demands of God’s law before they run to embrace the free gift of God’s grace.  The Gospel wounds before it heals.

WOUNDING THE WOUNDED?

The hard thing about this is that everyone in the hospital is already wounded.  They are already experiencing trauma, stress, discouragement, pain, anguish, and inconvenience.  The last thing they need is another wound.  Or is it?  How do you share a wounding message with wounded people?