I'm Like a ... Statue?

For the Institute of Contemporary and Emerging Worship Studies, St. Stephen's University, Essentials Blue Online Worship Theology Course with Dan Wilt.

I always knew we were created in the image of God. Genesis 1 makes that pretty clear, I think. But I never thought any further than what that meant for us as people. But this week I was challenged to take that view and make it more outward focused.

In a video Dan Wilt recorded for the aforementioned class, he brought this statement of us being God's image-bearers to a whole different degree.

He used the context of the passage, the way people centuries before us would have understood it. To paraphrase, he stated that when a king held a piece of land distant from his kingdom, to make the residents of this land recognize him, he would place an image of himself (a statue, a portrait, something).

Dan then stated something that I listened to several times; something that basically changed my worldview: "When people would look at that . . . image-bearing icon . . . as they looked at that they would recognize, in seeing this image we remember that we are under the rulership, the reign, the Kingship (or queenship) under the royal covering, under the protection of, under the strength of the ruller who has conquered us--the ruler who oversees as, as distant as they are."

Knowing, then, that we are image-bearers of God, thinking of that as some sort of declaration of our identity pales in comparison to the practical lifestyle for which this perspective calls.

When a person of the world (the "distant" land) sees me (the image), they are reminded of a King they quite possibly have never met.

While some people would see this as some strange pressure to live up to some unknown impossible standard, it excites me and encourages me that just by the simple fact that I acknowledge His rule and reign in my life, I already am that image.

As a girl who was homeschooled and entered a public community college, I didn't quite know what to make of this. I don't wear low-cut tops, but do the boys notice? I gave a speech on a "silent siege" I was a part of, but no one spoke to me or looked at me different. I missed a couple of Spanish classes for a Mexico mission trip and told my classmates, but all they said was, "I used to go to church." I always wondered how much of a difference my presence actually made. But this new perspective gives me so much more hope that just living and breathing in His power and in His love, I already am a witness.

I, for once, actually feel excited to go back to school in the fall.

Like a Sloppy Wet Kiss

For the Institute of Contemporary and Emerging Worship Studies, St. Stephen's University, Essentials Blue Online Worship Theology Course with Dan Wilt.

Recently some of our worship leaders (mostly in the high school age group) started playing a song titled How He Loves by John Mark McMillan. Oh, how the controversy swept over. I started playing it and ended up deciding it didn't fit into my definition of worship and, thus, should not be played during a worship set. But the reasons behind that have little to do with this topic. My recent reading in a book called Simply Christian by N.T. Wright provoked the thought of the most controversial line: "Heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss."

Now, obviously this image is too much for some people right off the bat. However, I'm not entirely sure I actually agree with the theology. While I love the imagery of heaven meeting earth, I think it's far too incomplete a picture (not that our worship songs are ever able to give a complete picture of anything in so few words, but I think this phrase falls far short of describing heaven and earth and their relationship).

In N.T. Wright's book, he writes about how heaven "overlaps and interlocks" earth. Now, to me, anyway, this brings a lot of different possibilities. The song doesn't actually give much context, but what does "meeting" earth actually mean. In the context of the conferences and such where this song is used commonly, one could extrapolate that it means a powerful manifestation of the Holy Spirit. But does overlapping and interlocking mean that is the only or even most often way heaven meets earth? Perhaps heaven was there all along waiting for us to search for it. But that brings up another question: then are there certain "portals" (for lack of a better word) where heaven meets earth that are there for a time and then sort of disappear similar to openings to Narnia (such as the Wardrobe in the first book). Perhaps heaven kind of creeps up in an inconspicuous type of way.

I like to refer to something Mike Pilavachi, pastor of Soul Survivor in the UK, said when he visited my church worship leaders' song writers' meeting. He said the Holy Spirit exists in three ways: the omnipresent Spirit, the Indwelling Spirit, and the manifesting Spirit. Perhaps these three ways correlate with heaven meeting earth (how could they not?).

Perhaps heaven is always touching earth (not hard to believe, but hard to support). Perhaps a touch of heaven exists in every believer (the indwelling spirit). And perhaps there is the "heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss" manifestation of heaven meeting earth.

And perhaps it is all three.

What do you think?

Justice, huh? (ICEWS, eb 08)

For the Institute of Contemporary and Emerging Worship Studies, St. Stephen's University, Essentials Blue Online Worship Theology Course with Dan Wilt.

Justice is one of my core values. No matter what the punishment, everyone should get what they deserve. (I am well aware that this means we would all deserve death because we've all sinned, but I like to ignore that for the sake of someone who has done wrong to someone else getting punished.)

What I've never been able to reconcile is God's just nature with his heart of mercy. "How is that even possible?" I would ask myself.

It would seem my view of the heart behind mercy was thoroughly wrong. I thought mercy meant everyone not getting the punishment they deserve (note my pessimism).  Mercy, on the flipside, is "unmerited favor." Very miniscule distinctions, but it changes one's world view nonetheless.

The latter view is more a proactive action. Whereas  the former is a retroactive non-action. The view of "unmerited favor" is something doable. It's nearly tangible.

How does this relate to justice?

Fighting injustice (in a Godly manner) ends up looking like the active view of mercy. Fighting for the underdog; feeding the hungry; valiantly battling on behalf of the oppressed; all of these seemed like compassion to me. So while fighting for justice, it seems mercy creeps in somehow. Fighting for someone you've never met is not only justice, it's mercy as well.

Never had I noted how they went hand-in-hand. And how useless justice is without mercy as its guide. Justice for the sake of justice is not God's heart. But with justice inspiring mercy to act, God's will can be fulfilled.

(Inspird by the first chapter in N.T. Wright's book, Simply Christian.)