Just came back from Thanksgiving Communion & Potluck. I’m in a particularly grateful mood. Thankful for:
1) My wife. She’s beautiful, serving, humble, kind, gentle, prayerful, gracious, and absolutely remarkable. Everything I’m not.
2) Berean Community Church. A church family in the truest sense. A place of instruction, encouragement, fellowship, laughter, food, and sharpening. Not perfect but wholly beneficial to me.
3) Pastor Peter & the Elders of BCC. Pastor Peter has been a father to me in bringing me up in the fear and admonition of the Lord, a mother to me in his patient nurture of my growth as a pastor and more importantly, as a Christian man. The elders are exemplary in their faithfulness to the church and to their own homes. They are concrete examples of godly leadership.
4) College Ministry. They allow me to extend my adolescence and not feel bad about it. They’re enthusiastic, teachable, and continually maturing; all qualities that a disciple should never outgrow.
5) Jesus. He saved me when I was dead in my trespasses, hopelessly lost, and a child of wrath. He humbled Himself to the point of death, even death on a Cross. He ransomed me and gladly welcomed me as a fellow brother in the house of God. He was raised for my justification. He is supremely worthy of worship, all-sufficient in His saving work, and gracious in His continuing intercession. I’m grateful He sent His Spirit to illuminate both heart and mind to learn more about who He is. I’m thankful that He is patient with me in the ongoing struggle to become more like Him. I love Him.
“The gospel is therefore not just the ABC’s of the Christian life, but the A to Z of the Christian life. Our problems arise largely because we don’t continually return to the gospel to work it in and live it out. That is why Martin Luther wrote, ‘The truth of the Gospel is the principle article of all Christian doctrine…Most necessary is it that we know this article well, teach it to others, and beat it into their heads continually’” (Tim Keller, Prodigal God)
I recently finished reading through Evening in the Palace of Reason (J.R. Gaines), a portrayal of an 18th-century encounter between Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, and Johann Sebastian Bach, the composer of the Baroque era. Apart from their individual greatness and their love for musical ingenuity, these men couldn’t have been farther apart.
Bach was a product of his theological upbringing. He believed that he was created to communicate the glory of God and that music was his divinely-suited means of doing so. In fact, he inscribed all his works with the acronym, S.D.G. (Soli Deo Gloria). He knew of very few other expressive mediums that could adequately convey celestial majesty.
Frederick, on the other hand, was a son of the Enlightenment. He was representative of an age ordered by cold logic and reason. There was no room for mystical sensibility in his world. All of nature’s supposed enigmas were easily decipherable by the categorically trustworthy lens of reason.
These conflicting ideologies made for differing musical tastes. As much as he considered himself a musician, Frederick was of the persuasion that music was only meant to entertain–to sound pleasing to the ears. Bach had higher goals in mind. As Gaines explains:
Bach’s Musical Offering leaves us, among other things, a compelling case for the following proposition: that a world without a sense of the transcendent and mysterious, a universe ultimately discoverable through reason alone, can only be a barren place; and that the music sounding forth from such a world might be very pretty, but it can never be beautiful.
There is an analogy to be drawn here for students of the theological enterprise (i.e., Christians). When we engage in theology, we examine Scripture and analyze its propositions. We classify our biblical observations into defined categories and attempt to draw discernible lines of continuity through comprehensive examination of God’s Word. And we ought to. God gave us the Scriptures to disclose truth about Himself and to illuminate our minds to a greater understanding of the universe and our place within it.
But there’s an important lesson to be learned from Bach. Bach was hardly a slouch rationally. His prolific compositions of the contrapuntal technique (think the musical equivalent of quantum-physics) demonstrated his unprecedented logical genius. But through it all, he knew he could never fully capture God’s transcendent glory.
Christian believers today are as much products of our culture as Bach and Frederick were of theirs. Today is an age where empirical observation and the scientific method reign. We naturally apply those same scientific methodologies to Scripture in our attempts to make sense of God. Just a cursory glance at commentaries and dogmatic volumes alone yields amazing proof to how far our God-given intellectual capacities have taken us in the realms of biblical and systematic theology. But the sheer utility of our rationality can breed a baseless confidence in reason. If we’re not careful, we will cease from struggling to articulate the nature and beauty of God, and capitulate to an unhealthy scholasticism. We will ignore that there always be mystery involved in our study of God and attempt to force God through our unbending paradigms of reason and logic.
The Reformers traditionally talked about the clear distinction between Creator and creation. And theologians today speak of the doctrine of God’s incomprehensibility: Though God can be understood in part, He will never be understood exhaustively. Knowing our natural limits places appropriate parameters in our theological endeavors. And as Christians, we would be well-served to remember the example of Bach: there is beauty in mystery.
Can you find out the deep things of God? Can you find out the limit of the Almighty? It is higher than heaven—what can you do? Deeper than Sheol—what can you know? Its measure is longer than the earth and broader than the sea. (Job 11:7-9)
Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure. (Psalm 147:5)
As far as the Gaines book is concerned, it reads a bit like pop-history, which is not a demeaning description of its literary worthiness. It’s only my way of saying that the writer makes history stimulating and interesting to read. I wholeheartedly recommend the book for those who love music and for anyone else intrigued by the book’s premise.
A silly but hopefully, practically helpful post.
Music used to be as much of a delight to obtain as to listen. Buying an actual disc (or tape, depending on your era) came with the accompanying cover art, a liner with lyrics, and necessitated a physical space for your musical library. It also required thoughtful deliberation: Is this a worthwhile investment to make? Can I justify purchasing an entire album for only a few songs that I will actually listen to? Etc.
Now with the digital age, mp3s are just a click away. But with the added ease of acquiring the latest tracks and records from various musicians has also come the proliferation of piracy and dishonest distribution.
I still find myself easily facing the temptation to “sample” tracks by downloading them off a file-sharing app. I remember the first time mp3s were available for download, I’d go for them one at a time and it still required some effort, thoughtfully appraising which songs would be worth the precious limitations of bandwidth available from my dial-up modem. Now it’s way too easy. Within minutes, you can have entire albums in storage on your hard-drive. On a side note, there’s got to be some correspondence between music piracy and the ridiculously large hard-drive capacities available on new computers these days.
Anyways, my point in writing is to echo a principle that’s been said a million times before but figuring that more than half of my regular readership (consisting of a total of about 8 people, including my sister and my wife) are collegians, who love music, who have the bandwidth, and whose lack of a discretionary income that once was a stipulation in owning music makes them more susceptible to piracy: BUY MUSIC.
Sure, you can embrace the anonymity of the internet in feeding your auditory desires but what else does that cloak of privacy lead you to through your laptop portal? Moreover, purchasing music is a financially-concrete way of showing gratitude to musicians that use their creativity to produce the kind of stuff you enjoy listening to. Expressing thankfulness is a good habit to get into, socially speaking. Side note #2: Is there any correlation between our generation’s chronic failure to express thanks for simple gestures of kindness (e.g., cooking/purchasing a meal for someone, giving them a ride, writing them an email) and the current convenience of effortlessly acquiring a daily staple like music that you didn’t work for? That can be the subject of another social commentary.
Generally speaking, making a financial investment towards something tends to heighten one’s level of appreciation for it. And clearly, purchasing music (as opposed to its more dubious, but culturally acceptable alternatives) is in greatest consistency to our Christian identity. E.g., Ephesians 4:28
Finally, the act of purchasing music naturally produces the prudence and responsibility required of all disciples of Christ: Does the lyrical content rob my affections for Jesus? Does this demonstrate wise financial stewardship? As Jack Johnson wistfully muses, “On and on it goes…”
So the lesson of the day (brought to you by the letter M and the number 4) is stop ripping off records.
Okay, I’ll step down now. People are beginning to stare.
Filed under: Miscellaneous
I’d like to date myself.
…No, not in that way.
“Date” in the sense of stamping myself in a particular time period, when Rob Van Winkle was still Vanilla Ice, and when the arrival of new volumes of The Boxcar Children and Encyclopedia Brown were anticipated as heavily as the next “Harry Potter” or “Twilight” book is today.
Most of the collegians I regularly interact with will have no clue what to make of the following. The last 2 digits on their DOB begin with 9. Others will know exactly what to make of the following and won’t mind hopping on the nostalgia train.
Garbage Pail Kids: This extended my infantile humor well beyond the point of acceptability.
Pogs: To this day, I’m still not sure what this was all about. What I do know is that my saved lunch money budget, previously allocated for Marvel Cards, was temporarily allocated to these Hawaiian imports in junior high school. SLAMMER!
Super Lemon: Unnecessarily sour. Unreasonably expensive. Unexplainably delightful. $1 Sunday offering was typically reserved for this. I’ve since repented.
Slap Bracelets: So dumb, yet so cool. I still remember closing my eyes right before the moment of impact, knowing the stinging sensation of the recoil around my wrist was only a split-second away.
Trapper Keepers: These just screamed: “Too cool for school.” They also wouldn’t last a month before peeling on the edges. Mead needed to offer at least a 1-year warranty.
Hypercolor T-shirts: With applied heat, they’d changed colors. Legit. NOTE: both before and after colors were usually of the neon, pukish variety.
Filed under: Musings
I’m a snob. I hate pop music. Why? For the very fact it’s “popular”. The Backstreet Boys are the bane of my existence. Turn on the mute button when Seacrest starts counting down the Top 40. For all 40 of them. Mainstream is an adjective to describe the world of the banal, the pre-packaged, the soundtrack for Corporate America and all its mindless consumers. Let me listen to the organic rhythms of Wilco, Bill Frisell, and Ryan Adams. And if they ever sell-out and morph into something more audibly palatable, then mute them too.
I’m a snob. I yawn in the face of “major” motion pictures. How many “Saw” movies can they milk the movie-going public for? Catch me at the indie joint instead, breathing the rarefied air of foreign flicks like Tokyo Sonata and Rashomon. Heck, I’m willing to settle for Lost in Translation (at least it’s set in Japan). But I won’t be caught dead watching Fireproof or Facing the Giants. No sir, not me.
I’m a snob. I look down my nose at those whose faith resembles the ceramic and porcelain trinkets on display at the local Christian “bookstore”. Those lesser mortals might settle for their Thomas Kinkade Jesus but I’m determined that my gaze won’t capitulate to the kitsch garbage that these nitwits feast on. Let me indulge in snooty disdain against the Chicken Soup for the Soul volumes lining your bookshelf. I need tomes and monographs penned by Medieval and Reformation divines. Shoot, I even read through all the footnotes. Give me something scholastic, academic, cerebral. It doesn’t matter if I don’t understand a word of it. As long as I can use my higher learning and refined palate to feed my conceit.
I’m a snob. And I need forgiveness.
I need to see beauty in the simplistic. I need to wonder again at the mundane. I need to love the sound of stumbling words in prayer and of tone-deaf singing that can at least be heard. I need to be sharpened by steady and faithful service. I need to be captivated by 45-minute sermons and broken by the Word behind the words. I need to enjoy lame games and icebreakers. I need to be humbled by the sight of well-worn Bible covers with fluffy doves and crocheted hearts. I need to swallow pride. I need to mortify sin. I need to love Jesus and to remember my vapid, stale condition prior to meeting Him. After all, was the Savior Himself admissible by my own snobby standards?
Is. 53:2 For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. 3 He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. 4 Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. 5 But he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed.
These days I’ve been neglecting this blog like it’s my sister. Things have gotten slightly busier as of late with the school year in full swing. In addition to heightened ministry responsibilities and an increased schedule of meetings, I’ve been preparing messages for CCM (on “The Wrath of God”; don’t ask me how I get assigned topics like this) and Berean. As a result, I haven’t had a ton of time for leisure reading or for blogging but I hope to return to it when things settle down a bit next month.
My hair is disgustingly long. I lost a game of Scrabble to James Lee and so I won’t be cutting it for another couple of months. Not even for a trim. I seriously fear what it’s going to look like. Thankfully, I’m able to cover it up by wearing my Angels cap and concealing the Chia Pet-style mane that’s beginning to grow. As long as they don’t get knocked out of the playoffs, I can go on using my handy red hat as a means of shielding and protecting others from seeing the abomination that is my hair.
College group is growing. Fast. Lots of people. Lots of souls to care for. Please pray that God would grant me wisdom by His Spirit and a growing grasp of His Word to minister adequately to all of them, and to any others that are entrusted to my care. I’m very blessed with the privilege of helping to lead this group.
Courtyard Study Lounge. Wednesday, October 7. 10:26 am.
Me: “Man. It’s so cold in here. This place is like an igloo.”
Justin Noh: “Aren’t igloos supposed to be warm?”
Me: ……
Filed under: Musings
So let’s say you’re married but you spend all of your time with your spouse’s friends, and end up neglecting him/her…would that be okay?
So let’s say you’re married but you hardly show up when he/she is doing something that is important to him/her…would that be okay?
So let’s say you’re married and you notice some flaws with your spouse, but rather than praying for him/her, you choose instead to only complain and grumble…would that be okay?
So let’s say you’re married and you observe areas of weakness in your spouse and are in a perfectly good position to help him/her, but never bother to lift a finger…would that be okay?
So let’s say you’re married and you wax eloquent about your commitment to the institution of marriage but never go beyond your minimal duty to the spouse that’s sitting right in front of you…would that be okay?
So if it’s NOT okay that we treat our spouse this way, when did it become okay to do it to the bride of Christ?
To borrow a metaphor from the Bible (2Cor. 11:2; Eph. 5:25-27; Rev. 19:7-9; 21:1-2): LOVE THE CHURCH and remain faithfully committed to the bride of Christ.
Allow me to clarify that this isn’t a rant against parachurches, campus ministries, starting your own prayer meeting, or the like. I benefited tremendously during my time in college in a campus ministry that God used to help me mature in faith and to this day, encourage others to take advantage of similar ministries available to them. Neither is this post intended to produce local church myopia that doesn’t give a rip about what other churches and ministries are doing for the Lord. I admit that as a local church pastor that it’s easier to have tunnel-vision and only care about what’s going on in my own church, at the expense of healthy, mutual cooperation with other ministries.
Rather, I intend for what’s written above to be a simple plea that the first place we ought to practically start in building God’s Kingdom remains the local churches that He has graciously given us to.
By the way, this post was inspired by Ray Ortlund. Random fact: my wife is going to meet with his mom, Anne Ortlund, later this month. Pretty cool.
NOTE: This post is not directed to anyone in particular! Seriously! 
Filed under: Musings
Though completely undeserving, Jesus loves me.
Because He is all-deserving, I love Jesus.
